I hauled myself out of the house on a gorgeous, clear Father's Day and drove to the eastern side of Huntsville for an afternoon of photography.

Photos after the cut, so as not to make my entire front page explode. Full set is available on flickr as usual.

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Saturday afternoon. The day's rains were half-completed before we ventured out. Ask anyone who has lived here long enough and they'll tell you it's true: it never rains just once in Alabama summertime. Always twice. First time it comes down as rain, and the second time it comes back up as steam.

Homeowners with sense have all their outdoor projects completed before the onset of June, because the heat and humidity have a persistence and insidiousness that can hand you heat exhaustion before you're done with your work.

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Huntsville street names have a disturbing fluidity that I've never seen in any other town. Roads randomly change names at intersections, as they cross highways, or when the urge struck the builders. How else to explain that University and Pratt are the same roads, just on different sides of Memorial Parkway? Or that Zierdt Road is Shelton Road, and that Madison Boulevard is the old Highway 20, and Rideout Road is now Research Park Boulevard?

Right. Makes my head explode, too, and I live here. No wonder it took me so long to learn how to navigate this town. When street signs change on unpredictable whims, it's hard to know if the road you're currently on turns into the road you want to be on, or if you really did miss the turn entirely.

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Greetings from Huntsville, your latest source of American workplace shootings.

Pass the chicken.

There's nothing quite like waking up one morning to learn that your adopted hometown is the news event of the day. "Four men dead in workplace shooting; police say that the gunman is holed up in some..." ... unnamed apartment building that's apparently over on my side of town.

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You just thought I was teasing you with a subject line such as "eggbeater Jesus." Trust me. I'm not. You know how every town has its share of odd and bizarre landmarks? We've got our share. If you ask most residents about the most memorable landmark in Huntsville, anyone who has been here for five minutes will tell you that the full-sized rockets standing upright by the Space & Rocket Center are the most memorable sights in Huntsville. Read the rest »

Dear Friends,

On this Election Day I come to you out of sorrow, fear, and this growing urge to register nothing but a protest vote. Geof has reminded me that I can choose to not vote on whichever races I don't feel are worthy of my vote, and suddenly my ballot begins to take on worlds of new sarcastic meaning.

I've given most of the Alabama races approximately 0.25 seconds of conscious thought (the 6.5 seconds of unconscious thought, by law, do not count this year) and have come to the conclusion that absolutely none of them matter a damn to me. Most of them are thoroughly unoriginal. Issues like… capital-city bloat. Making sure Jenny and Johnnie Doe get their state-funded educations without actually requiring their parents to pay taxes. Lotteries. State constitutions. Zoning laws. All the nonexistent tax money for OUR district and none for anyone else!

I've got three words for you: blah, blah, blah. (Second place went to "who frickin' cares," - must've been that pesky protest vote showing up again)

I want to know about real issues. The ones that really matter, not this money/taxation/education crap.

I want to know which of the candidates supports my constitutionally-guaranteed right to eat babies.

Not only that, I want to sleep well tonight knowing that the representative I vote for will uphold Alabama's constitutional ban on the import and sale of cantaloupe.

Why cantaloupe? Cantaloupe are nasty, evil, dastardly fruits. They must be stopped! I cannot understand why people continue to prattle on about such unimportant crap as education and taxes when the very root of all evil can be found in every grocery store in northeast Alabama! How are we supposed to protect our beautiful, innocent*, God-fearing† children from the vile, corrupting evil that is cantaloupe?

The fact that the politicians gunning‡ for my vote are obsessed with such minutiae depresses me greatly. Consider the vast sea of four-color, full-bleed flyers I have had to rescue my actual mail from during the past two weeks:

1. Protect Alabama Conservative Values [or die like the heathen scum you are]
2. The Republican Party of Alabama, a non-profit organization [thankfully mud-slinging isn't a for-profit occupation] thinks that Don Siegelman, the current governor, sucks. Parts one and two of a seemingly endless series.
3. Mr. Fargerson made the assumption that I'm all about those conservative Alabama values [he obviously forgot to check with me]

However, in the grand Bush tradition of leaving no children, adults, pets, or idiot slogans behind, I present what is, quite possibly, the dumbest and most irritating ad I've received in my mail this year. This was the ad that got me started saving the ads for today's rant.

I present to you a letter written by Mrs. Sandra Fargerson. "Hand-written," in the best tradition of "hand-written" postscripts on Publishers' Clearing House sweepstakes entries. You may see the letter in its entirety here: page 1 page 2

In the interest of responding in kind, I present my response.

You will now have to excuse me. It's time for me to go vote. Must remember to put my steel-toeds on first. It's awful deep out there.

* Innocence guaranteed until onset of public-school sex education. After that, the little heathens are on their own.

† Fear™ to be made mandatory when the new Alabama constitution takes effect.

‡ Void and prohibited if you are not allowed to own or carry a gun. (this prohibition no longer legal in Alabama as of 1885)