I Hugged Morgan Freeman!

And he gave me a Super Squeeze! My heartbeat has returned to normal since this happened yesterday, so maybe I can tell the story in a comprehensible manner.

OK. Everyone knows that Morgan Freeman is an amazing actor with a velvet voice I could listen to all day. Mike and I have also always respected his character and the stands he takes. He’s just always seemed to be one of the really good guys. So for about a year, Mike and I have talked about, once settled back here, going to Ground Zero.

As part of his down-to-earth nature, Morgan (I can call him that now) maintains a home in the small town of Charleston, MS and co-owns a blues club – Ground Zero – in nearby Clarksdale. C’dale IS ground zero for the Delta blues. It is the location of the legendary (mythical?) crossroads. I’ll tell you about the crossroads in another blog. Rumor had it that when Morgan was in town, he’d drop into Ground Zero just like regular folks and have a good time, visit with folks and dance with all the ladies.

Our plan was to drive down one day for lunch, make sure we knew how to get there for a subsequent evening visit, and inquire about when anyone might expect Mr. Freeman to be in town. We arrived later than we’d planned and had a great lunch. I had a catfish sandwich with a side of fried green tomatoes. Ahh, the South. As Mike was paying the bill, he asked if Morgan might be coming down. Completely casual, the waitress said he’d probably be there about 5:30. Omigod. It was already 4 p.m. We were going to get to see him!

We went next door and visited the Delta Blues Museum to kill some time, then went back to the club, ordered beers, and Mike kept checking out the door. When he said, “there’s Morgan,” I thought he was teasing, but then I heard the unmistakable voice.

We meandered closer to where he was chatting with people and stood next to the bar. And then he walked straight over to us and stopped in front of me. Never at a loss for something witty and intelligent to say, I blurted out “It’s really you!!” To which he replied with a chuckle, “No, it’s really YOU.” And Mike chimed in, “gee, you never thought you’d run into Diane here, did you?” I introduced us to him. We chatted a minute, and Mike asked if he could take a photo. That’s when Morgan put his arms around me. I can die a happy woman, and my understanding husband’s not even mad at me.

Mr. Freeman was absolutely not doing The Star thing. Just a really nice man. When he moved over to the photo shoot he was there to do, he called us by our names – an impressive quality. And he acknowledged us (okay, he rubbed my shoulder) as he later moved to another photo location they’d set up in the club. So tomorrow night, we’re picking up a couple of his movies that we haven’t seen and we’re having a Morgan Freeman film fest.

AND – if you come to visit us, we’ll put Ground Zero on the tour schedule. Check it out at their web site.
http://www.groundzerobluesclub.com/home.php

p.s. I should explain why Morgan maintains a home and businesses down there. He was born in Memphis and spent many of his early years in Charleston.

Charlotte & Buddy in the Spotlight

What a wonderful weekend for our friends Charlotte and Buddy. Over the years, Buddy has been an ardent supporter and contributor to his alma mater, Auburn’s engineering school. Well, Buddy and Charlotte made The Really Big Gift, and Auburn reciprocated by honoring Buddy’s career in aerospace and the gift by naming the aerospace engineering building in his honor.

We were tickled to be among the friends and family invited to join them for an entire weekend of activities. Glinda, another Charlotte friend, flew into Memphis and drove down with us. There was a Friday night cocktail party, Saturday morning dedication ceremony and lunch, afternoon tours of Davis Hall and other campus sites, Saturday night black-tie dinner dance, and farewell brunch on Sunday morning. I got to meet Karen, the record-holder for long-term Charlotte friendship, and hope to see her and husband John again.

Buddy was rightfully proud of the building and many activities. Charlotte absolutely glowed with graciousness and beauty as she maneuvered her crew through the hectic weekend. The three Davis sons – Steve, Brian and Neil – were front and center as were beautiful wives Melissa (Steve) and Kelli (Brian). The four grandkids handled the busy schedule really well.

See the full story on Auburn’s website:
http://wireeagle.auburn.edu/news/135

Trip Notes

* We drove past a town named Brilliant, Alabama. I’ll say nothing more on that.
* On the way to Auburn, we saw a sign advertising Wesley’s Booby Trap. Truly. I presumed that it was a bra factory. On the return trip, Mike spotted a sign at the same spot that was seeking applicants for topless dancing. Glinda begged us to stop, but we refused.
* We also declined to stop for lunch at Bubba’s Pizza. Must be the Italian branch of Bubba's family.
* And finally, although the drive through Alabama – particularly north AL – was absolutely beautiful, we’d sure like to encourage the folks in charge of highway signage around Birmingham to stick a couple of more directional signs in the ground. It’s far easier to transition through Dallas. Both going south and then back north, the signs seem to disappear leaving a driver going “huh??” I could have sworn that in the background I could hear the lyrics to Hotel California – “You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.”

Not the Mike You Thought

This is for those of you who think that Mike is a totally sweet, kind, patient man. He is those things, but there’s another Mike, too.

Way back when Mike was playing with Grammy-nominated Ace Cannon, the band frequently traveled in a large van with a trailer for their equipment attached to the back. Mike usually positioned himself as driver; Ace rode shotgun; and the other guys grabbed seats and benches in the back. On this particular night, they had left one gig and had driven through the night toward the next one. Everyone was asleep except Mike, who was a little bored.

Some time after sunrise, he spotted a tow truck ahead of him hauling the disabled cab of a tractor-trailer rig. The “broken” vehicle was hooked up so that the front of the cab was facing the back. Glancing up, one might think that a big rig was staring you down. Oh what an evil thought occurred.

Mike moved over into that lane and closed in as near as he could safely get to the front bumper of that backwards 18-wheeler cab. At the right moment, he tapped his brakes hard and let out a yell for effect. Guys in the back flew awake screaming, and Ace let out a yell and grabbed his chest. Mike – well, he was the guy laughing for the next several miles.

The real miracle of the story is that Ace did not have a heart attack and that Mike continued to work with him for some time to come.

Happy Anniversary!

Time flies when you're having fun, and in this case, it's true. On Tuesday, Mike and I celebrated our third wedding anniversary. He gave me a rustic, rock fountain with waterfalls. I gave him a porch swing for two. Oh no. We're becoming the old Plunks sitting on the porch.

Well, maybe not but we've been doing back yard work. We dug up a flower bed where we planted rose and gardenia bushes, and I planted a magnolia tree -- naturally.

Because the band is playing at the Sheraton casino this week, we did our anniversary dinner on Sunday and then I went to the job with him Tuesday night. He sang a song and dedicated it to me. Awwwww Then we went to breakfast and walked to the casino next door to see some friends of his who are playing there.

Maybe we're not total porch-sitters yet.

All's well that ends???

We experienced two disappointments yesterday. First, Mike and I tried a new Japanese restaurant for our anniversary dinner and were saddened to discover that they had no green tea ice cream for dessert. Darn.

Then we watched the final episode of The Sopranos.

You probably wouldn't have pegged me for a long-time Sopranos fan. I'm not. When Mike and I first married, I left the room when his favorite show came on. I was put off by the almost-laughable excess of foul language, and then there was all that graphic violence. Eventually, I decided to be present for the show to keep Mike company. The "good wife" thing, you know. I ignored the language, couldn't really see the violence, and became interested in the characters and plot lines.

So -- no surprise -- we planned our Sunday around the need to be home with the telephones turned off to view the Sopranos finale.

Most of us are familiar with great series endings such as M*A*S*H and the Mary Tyler Moore Show. We've seen endings that were just okay like Friends. And we've been dumbfounded by horrid endings like Seinfeld. The Sopranos didn't fall into any of these categories. It didn't end. It stopped. This isn't the famous short story "The Lady or the Tiger?". Tony's fans don't want to make up their own ending. They wanted an ending that would knock their socks off.

My socks are firmly in place. I have to agree with the msnbc commentator who said that "last night, it was the viewers who got whacked."

But with the Sopranos furor dying down this evening, maybe we can get back to really important things like whether or not Barbara Walters can smuggled some moisturizer to Paris Hilton.

TV Time

Way, way back in “the day,” Mike played and toured and was band leader for Ace Cannon (Grammy-nominated for the instrumental version of Willie Nelson’s “Blue Eyes Cryin’ in the Rain”). They had been booked to play their latest regional hit on a Memphis early-morning, live (key word – “LIVE”) talk/news show. Apparently, the producers didn’t know that you don’t leave unattended a rock band that’s been up all night, so they seated them in an area adjacent to the weather set to wait their time to lip-sync the new song.

Word of explanation for younger readers: there wasn’t always Doppler radar and 3-D topographical maps to juice-up weather forecasts. At that time, there was a stationary, regional map with magnetic temperature numbers and cute weather symbols affixed thereto. The weather man (yes, it WAS a man in that era) prepared his weather board in advance of show time, and then a curtain was drawn in front of the board just waiting to be opened for his piece of the show.

Except there were these crazy musicians. With nothing else to do and no one watching them. So they went over and peeked behind the weather map curtain. They saw temperature numbers such as 80 in Memphis, 75 in Jonesboro, etc. And they saw an opportunity for mischief. They pulled off numbers, rearranged numbers, and totally destroyed any sensibility to the map. Did I say that the show was LIVE????

So, they did their number. Didn’t even bother to hold the instruments that they actually played, then they lurked on the sidelines for the Big Reveal. Weather segment began. Did I mention that this was live? The weather man dramatically opened the curtains on the weather map and saw that it was a complete disaster. Talk about your global warming! Pro that he was, however, he chuckled, acknowledged the ambush, and marched forward – compensating from memory for the total lack of information on his board.

The guys were doubled up on the sidelines, but this totally cool weather dude just last week celebrated his 30th year on that local station. I guess we know why.