2. Please tell me you saw Chipper’s walk-off homer Wednesday night. I swear to God I almost cried.

Also, I’m on the fence now about who I hate more: the Philadelphia Phillies or the Florida Gators. Ask me again in November.

3. Speaking of the Braves, I wonder how many times I say, scream, or mutter the word “fuck” during each telecast (especially the losses, though there are still plenty of reasons to let ‘em fly throughout the course of a win). I kept a rough tally yesterday and counted 25 from just the fifth inning on during our eventual loss to the Phillies. Extrapolating this into a full nine-inning contest, I’m averaging in the neighborhood of 45 f-bombs per loss. This means that even if by some act of God this year’s Braves were to match the winningest season in modern MLB history — 116 wins, by the 2001 Seattle Mariners — I could still expect to drop 2,070 “fuck!”s during the 46 losses. What’s more realistic, though, is that we’ll finish with about 90 wins, which means around 72 losses, which should make for at least 3,240 “fuck!”s that I’ll yell or whisper at no one in particular this season. This can’t be healthy.

If there’s a point here, it’s this: it’s not much fun to watch Atlanta Braves baseball with me. Also, sorry Mom and Dad.

4. I saw a t-shirt the other night that had the following words arranged just so across the back:

SCRATCH
and
SNIFF
ME

It’d be one thing, I guess, if the text had been stretched across the front but instead it sat right there on the back with the “ME” holding steady just above the ass, which just so happened to be showing a little whale tail. Kinda grossed me out, honestly.

5. Yesterday, two employees told me I’d be more attractive if I smiled more. I didn’t have the heart to tell them they’d be more attractive if they kept their damn traps shut. I should probably fire them.

What gives? I smile sometimes, don’t I? Sure I do. Pretty sure I do, at least. Sometimes. 

6. If someone who didn’t know me happened to read #s 2-5 of this post, I bet they’d think I was a real jerk.

7. I think I’d make a good undercover narcotics officer (among other things, as you know).

8. I don’t appreciate all these Vandy and Belmont kids rubbing their upcoming graduations in my face. You don’t hear me talking shit to them about the two spelling bees I won, do you? Of course you don’t. And yes, it IS the exact same thing.

9. You know how you learn of a new word or phrase (or new meaning of a word or phrase) and then it seems like you hear it five times a day for the next two weeks? During a recent weekend in Athens, Georgia, I heard Josh use the phrase “in a minute” which I learned meant “a long time” (I think his exact words were “It’s been ‘a minute’ since I’ve seen her, she looks great.”). Now I hear it around here almost daily (“I haven’t eaten in a minute, you wanna grab a bite?”, “Where’ve you been, I’ve been waiting for a minute,” etc.). Is this some new thing people say? If so, should I assume it’s been lifted from one of the more popular television shows of today, like Cheers or Newhart?

10. I just realized I didn’t call my niece Madeline during her birthday party last week. I’m worse than Uncle Buck; even he turned out to be pretty good in the end. I’m so sorry, Sweetpea, that your Uncle Nate is such a deadbeat. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.

11. If someone who didn’t know me happened to read #s 7-10 of this post, I bet they’d think I was a real asshole.

This has to be my surliest and most cynical post to date. Don’t worry, I promise I (and my posts) will be better next week.

Have a great weekend,

-Nate

Me: A Fat Tire, please.

Bartender: Man, I should’ve known. Sure thing, will do. (passes me a beer) Hey, did you and Jess ever manage to patch things up?

Me: Actually, she and I decided to go our separate ways, but thanks for asking, seriously.

Bartender. Oh man, so sorry to hear that. Well, if it makes you feel any better, my girlfriend and I finally got engaged, can you believe it?

Me: Congratulations, that’s really great. Tell you what, I’ll go ahead and take the check whenever you’re ready.

Bartender: Sure thing, will do.

-nb

When I asked her how her day had been, she said “any day above dirt is a good day.”

Indeed, Granny.

-Nate

2. It’s been nearly a month since my last blog, which means my New Year’s resolution is now shot to hell. I apologize to my 14 readers (yes, readership has miraculously expanded during my hiatus) for leaving you hanging for so long. I could explain what I’ve been up to but it would be ungentlemanly for me to elaborate.

3. A funny conversation I had last week with a total stranger:

Woman: Any one ever tell you you look like a smaller, underdeveloped Clark Kent?

Me: That’s pretty funny. Anyone ever tell YOU you look like an inflated, overdeveloped Wonder Woman? Who are you, anyway?

Woman: I’m Julia.

Me: Hi Julia, I’m Nate. Nice to meet you, I guess.

Woman: Yeah, you too.

(end scene)

4. I think it’s cruel to have double-doors and keep only one of them operational, unless there’s a hidden camera on them, in which case it’s hilarious.

5. Yesterday afternoon I saw some guy walking his dog with a surgeon’s mask over his face (the guy, not the dog). I get it, of course — the pollen and whatnot — but c’mon man, you look ridiculous.

6. Whenever I walk by someone (or them by me) in relatively close quarters, I always hold my breath until he or she and the air they drag along with them have passed so I don’t have to smell them. Is that weird?

7. Last week while at work I had to remove a bird’s nest from the underside of the patio roof, as all kinds of debris from the nest (including but not limited to poop) had been falling on guests’ tables. I carefully pulled it down and relocated it to a nearby tree. The next day, I had to remove another nest from the exact same place, surely built by the same persistent bird. Whereas most folks would have been annoyed, I couldn’t help but be impressed as there’s no way in hell I could ever build something so delicate, so intricate, and so necessary for sustaining life, all with my face. And certainly not in one day.

8. I wonder if my last name will ever be converted into a wildly popular act, a la “Tebowing.” What would “Beavering” look like? This may be the only time I invite y’all to make jokes sure to be at my expense, so make ‘em good.

9. For forever I thought the first line of Kenny Loggins’s “Footloose” was “Been working so hard/I’m punching my car.” Having heard it again just yesterday, I realize now that the speaker is punching his “card,” not his “car.” Obviously this makes more sense, but I’m disappointed to have to dissolve the mental picture I’ve had for over twenty years of some guy denting the hell out of his driver’s side door with his fist after a long day of work.

10.  A couple of weeks ago this girl at the bar accused me of having a fake British accent, non-prescription glasses, and vampire teeth. Then she asked for my number. I don’t think she understands how all that is supposed to work.

11. This marks the first of my Friday “Thoughts Headed Into the Weekend” posts to begin with a quote (a non NB quote, rather, David Wilcox in this case). I think I kinda like the idea. This way, if the post gets off to a slow start, for once I’m not accountable.

Seriously, thank y’all for your patience while I was in outer space. I’ve not quite touched down yet but have finally reentered the atmosphere after orbiting for nearly a month.

More to come…

Have a great weekend,

-Nate

See you on the other side,

-nb

Hi friends.

I gave this show a brief mention in last Friday’s blog but I wanted to talk a little more in depth about it today.

My new friends The Bitteroots have recently released their newest record “Central of Georgia” (go HERE for a great review) and have invited Mike Killeen and me to each perform opening sets for their CD release show this Saturday night at The Five Spot in Atlanta.

I’ll start off the night with a short set of my solo acoustic bullshit. Immediately following that, I’ll join Mike Killeen and the Dregs (Mike’s kick-ass backing band) for guitar and backing vocals. Mike says he’ll be pulling heavily from his recently released “Poverty is Real” and and that we may be able to work in a full-band NB tune as well. Time will tell.

After Mike’s set, the Bitteroots will join the stage to close out the night, which unfortunately will be an early one from me since I have to be back to work in Nashville by 4pm Sunday. Boo, I know.

I’ve played the Five Spot a couple of times, once with the now defunct Brilliant Inventions and another time opening for Angie Aparo. Or maybe that was the same show– it’s been so long I don’t really remember, but I’ve been anxious to get back there ever since. Love that part of town (my old neighborhood, in fact), and love that venue.

Anyway, I hope to see some of you there. It may be summer time before I play in Atlanta again, and since I’m sure all of your brackets are busted all to hell anyway, you might as well join us at the Five Spot on Saturday night.

See you then.

-nb

Go HERE for advanced tickets ($15). Tickets at the door will be $20, and the first 150 folks through the door will receive three CDs: The Bitteroots’ “Central of Georgia,” Mike Killeen’s “Poverty is Real,” and NB’s “Everybody’s Out Tonight” EP.

2. Why even bother going to the YMCA if you’re going to take the elevator to the second floor treadmills? That’s like bringing a flask to an AA meeting.

3. I knew this day would come but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. And I think I can honestly say without hyperbole that I’ve never wanted something as badly for someone (someone I didn’t know personally, I mean) as I want a World Series for Chipper in his final year. He’s never been my favorite Brave, but there’s something about the patriarchal role he’s taken on in the last couple of years that has really endeared him to me (go HERE for another great article).

Also, I can’t believe I’m already this emotionally involved with still more than two weeks before opening day. It looks like I’m gonna be a wreck for the next six (and hopefully seven) months.

4. Of the two expressions “it’s all downhill from here” and its converse, “it’s all uphill from here,” which one are we supposed to use to convey that “the worst is over and our situation will begin to improve”? I seem to hear the two used interchangeably and they can’t BOTH be correct. I could make an argument for either, however: the former is practical, saying “we’ve worked hard to get over the hump, now gravity will take over and things will be easier,” while the latter is emotional, employing the word “up” and its inherent optimism (‘up’ward, ‘up’lifting, building ‘up’, moving ‘up’, etc.) to elicit feelings of hope and relief (as opposed to the negative associations of “down”: feeling ‘down,” ‘down’ in the dumps, ‘down’ward spiral, etc.).

Like I said: they can’t both be correct, can they? So, which one should I be using? Please advise.

Which reminds me, did you know “biweekly” can mean both twice a week AND every two weeks? And that “cleave” is its own antonym? And that “regardless” and “irregardless” mean the exact same damn thing?

5. I heard that Deathcab for Cutie song “I Will Follow You Into the Dark” yesterday for the first time in years. Up until now, I thought the last verse said “You and me have seen everything to see/ from Bangkok to Calvary,” which I always thought was a nice, subtle tie-in with the religious undertones of the rest of the song, particularly the second verse. Hearing that line again yesterday, I know now that its “Calgary,” not “Calvary,” which makes me an idiot.

Irregardless, it’s a great song, one of the many out there that I wish I had written.

6. I thought my dad was going to go into conniptions after seeing the language I used in yesterday’s post about my dust-up on the golf course. Instead, he sent me a text that read “Well to be honest, I thought it was pretty relevant and well done. I’m afraid I might have forced him to eat a 7 iron.”

7. What the fuck kind of band name is Deathcab for Cutie, anyway? Again, sorry Dad.

8. If I hear one more person say “that’s my jam” I’m gonna freak out.

9. Much to my chagrin, Wisconsin went down last night. Still, maybe now Ryan Evans will reconsider bringing back the box haircut, a la Mr. Ewing.

10. Sometimes I need an ear and just an ear, not an ear and lips.

11. I just saw some girl walking her dog. The pants she was wearing had the word “PINK” stretched across the ass in huge capital letters. The pants were green. I don’t understand.

12. Speaking of capital letters, when texting with all-caps to emphasize a particular word or phrase, why does my phone’s auto-correct function switch off? My thumbs need help, even when they’re shouting.

13. Don’t forget about next weekend’s show in Atlanta! Saturday, March 31, at the Five Spot in Little Five Points. The whole night is a celebration of The Bitteroots new CD, “Central of Georgia.” I’ll play a short solo set before joining Mike Killeen and the Dregs as a one-night-only band member. The Bitteroots will follow and close out the evening.

Have a great weekend,

-nb

I had been playing solo but quickly caught up with a gentleman at hole #4. Adhering to proper etiquette he had offered to let me play through, but instead we ended up just playing together as we were more or less at the same skill level. It worked out beautifully, too –no one playing in front to hold us up, and no one in sight behind us.

The guy — we’ll call him “preacher” — turned out to be one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met (especially for Shelby, where nice guys are few and far between). We had great conversation, mostly about the church he recently founded somewhere off of Nolensville Rd. 

The preacher got a call as we came down the hill to the #7 tee box. He explained to me that it was a work call he’d been waiting on and asked if I’d be willing to wait as it wouldn’t take but 2-3 minutes. I said “I don’t mind waiting at all, I know how work calls go. It’s a beautiful day anyway, I’m just happy to be out here.” He thanked me, answered his phone, and took a few steps away to talk privately.

Suddenly, and totally out of nowhere, this guy — we’ll call him “shit head” — comes flying over the hill and down the hill in his cart straight towards us. He almost loses control, then slams his brakes and comes to a screeching halt only inches away from the preacher’s cart. The preacher, tied up on the phone, doesn’t notice, but I do.

I had a few beers in me, so I spoke up.

Me: Whoa, hey man, that was really unnecessary. Is there a problem?

Shit Head: (about my age, wearing sunglasses and Yankees hat) You tell me, man. Are you guys playing golf, or is your boy gonna talk on the phone all day?

Me: (surprised by his aggressiveness) Whoa, whoa, whoa… Listen, we ARE in fact playing golf, and as soon as my friend’s off the phone, he’ll hit. How’s that sound?

Shit Head: That’s bullshit, man. He’s gotta hit now or I’m playing through.

Me: (starting to see red) Interesting. I tell you what, you can go ahead and play through (gesturing in a grandly sarcastic “right this way” sweeping half-circle arm motion)… but know that you’re getting your way because I’m letting you, NOT because you deserve it.

Shit Head: (yanking his club from his bag and walking furiously to the tee box) Whatever, man. You’re so full of shit.

He tees up his ball, takes a violent practice swing, then lines up to hit.

Me: You know man, all you had to do was ask nicely. It’s a shame you’re being like this on such an otherwise perfect day.

He picks up his ball and storms towards me, threateningly.

Shit Head: Listen, chief, I don’t know where you’re from, but around here we–

Me: I’m from here, actually.

Shit Head: (unfazed) …’Round here we use proper etiquette. (pointing his finger in my face) When someone wants to play through, you let him. It’s that simple.

Me: How about nearly ramming a golf cart? Is THAT proper etiquette?

Shit Head: (turning to storm back towards the tee box) Fuck you, man.

Me: Correction. Fuck YOU.

He tees up his ball, swings, sprays it into the other fairway, and hops back into his cart.

Me: Probably not the shot you wanted, huh?

He gives me the finger as he speeds away. A few seconds pass, then the preacher walks anxiously back toward me.

Preacher: Nate, what was that? What happened?

Me: I don’t really know, it happened so fast. He just showed up out of nowhere and started being a jerk, so I told him how I felt about it. Poor guy, he’s probably just having a bad day. Either that or he’s lonely.

Preacher: Looks to me like he needs Jesus.

Me: Amen to that.

The preacher and I both par the hole. End scene.

-nb

Nathan Kyle! I had a dream last night that you got in a motorcycle accident right in front of my very eyes. 

I was outside, like working on a movie set or something. And it was raining. And then someone said, ‘oh look at this guy’ and we looked to see a guy on a motorcycle in red and black leather coming in hot. Then the motorcycle lost control, fell over and slid up to where we were (not in a cool way like, ‘nice entrance’ but in a scary way.) Everyone ran over and the driver took the helmet off and it was you! I yelled, “Oh my god NATHAN!” and ran over to you (it was all very dramatic.) You weren’t all that hurt but really shaken up.

Then, we went and had Chinese… at the Chinese restaurant, you just couldn’t shake the accident and the waitress was annoyed about that for some reason. She was like, ‘you eat NOW.’ And you would just sit there with your head leaning against one hand. Then I rustled your hair like a little boy. 

There are many implausible details in this dream but maybe you should stay away from motorcycles, and perhaphs Asian food, for a bit. OK?

What does this mean?

-nb

Maybe I was wrong about not beating my dad someday.

In golf, I mean.

-nb