Christmas: A Time of Traditions and the Worst Christmas Story Ever Told

This has been a most difficult year for a lot of people.  The holidays haven't been the same without Christmas parties and gatherings of friends.  I have a few Christmas traditions that I usually do at gatherings.  I do my impersonation of Elvis singing "Blue Christmas" and I tell the following story.  I've told it many, many times over the years but have never written it down. I have painted it though.  It's not a proud moment in my life, but the following events actually occurred just as I am telling them.  Ladies and Gentlemen I present to you... Night of the Mole Titty, the Worst Christmas Story Ever Told.

It was Christmas 2008.  I had recently gotten divorced at the end of October after being married for 7 1/2 years.  A week later, my brother's girlfriend introduced me to one of her friends.  We dated briefly, which is another story of it's own, but it ended with her kicking me out of the house buck ass naked for telling her that her butt stank. 

When Christmas came around I was lonely.  A friend of mine had told me about an online dating site that he used, so I said what the heck and signed up.  I found this girl on there that lived nearby and we started talking.  She invited me over to her house for dinner, so being poor, broke and hungry, I accepted.  I go knock on the door and the woman who answered the door looked nothing like her profile photo.  I'm talking U-G-L-Y!!!! I didn't know what to do, but I could smell the dinner she'd cooked and I was hungry.  I go in and eat and we watch some movie on TV and talk a little and I get out of there.  We talked about art some and she showed me some of her daughter's art.  She seemed to have a real appreciation for art.  

Being the gentleman that I am, and being appreciative of the nice meal.  I decide that I would take her out to dinner the following night and tell her that it wasn't going to work out.  I took her out to Chili's and ran into 95% of the people I know that didn't know that I'd gotten divorced and thought I was running around with this ugly ass woman.  Afterwards she asks if we can go back to my house so she can see some of my art.  I said ok, since it was on the way back to taking her home.  

We get to my house and I show her around and she wants to watch a movie or something.  While we're sitting on the couch, she jumps on top of me and starts trying to kiss on me.  I'm like what the hell and get up and go to the bathroom.  When I come out, she's no longer on the couch and I hear her in the bedroom.  The lights were out.  

I've made some poor decisions in my lifetime.  I'm not going to lie about it.  As I was standing there in the doorway trying to figure out what I was going to do with this ugly woman laying naked in my bed,  I began to feel sorry for her.  In my mind, I reasoned that it was Christmas... and this poor woman may never have an opportunity like this again.  I hesistantly laid on the bed.  It get's kind of graphic from this point, but there is no better way to tell it, so bear with me.  I started sucking on one of her breasts.  In the dark, I was having a difficult time navigating around there and I finally found something to latch onto.  It felt awkward and in a weird location, and as my eyes started to adjust to the darkness, I realized that I was sucking on a big hairy mole.  I lost my shit.  I felt so violated and dirty. I was completely grossed out. I began to panic, but then I  remembered my shoulder and the ability to throw it out of socket at will.  It was the result of a weight lifting injury in high school.   As I began screaming in pain, she asked what was wrong.  I told her that my shoulder was out and that I was going outside to smoke a cigarette and try to get it back in place.  

Five hours later, it was 3:00 in the morning, I had been trying to come up with a plan but I was just too disturbed.  I think I smoked two packs of cigarettes.   I finally go back in hoping that she was asleep and hadn't stolen a bunch of my shit.  I crawl in bed quietly, completely clothed.  I even had my coat on.  Every time she got near me, I'd scream like I was in pain.  I woke up early the next morning, told her that I had to go.  I took her home and never saw or talked to her again.  

So there it is people... The Worst Christmas Story Ever Told.  I told you that it was going to be.  

That night haunted me for a while.  Christmas had been ruined. After the two dating experiences I'd gone through after my divorce, I said that I was going to give up dating for a while, but then I met this really cute little midget lady at the Waffle House on New Year's Eve.  That's another less exciting story for another day.  

I try to have a moral to the story when I write one of these things... but I'm gonna let you figure the lesson you need from this one on your own.  

Merry Christmas from SamG!!!!  

A Junkman Looks at 50

 I guess you could say that I'm more of an artist now, but forever in my heart, I will always be a junkman.  Eight days from now I will be turning 50.  The Perfect TV hair is thinning a little.  It's also turned much grayer. I've got some artificial replacement parts now in my right knee and my heart. Somedays I feel old.

I went back and read a blog post on here about turning 40.  My goal then was, "Ain't much happiness left in the world, and I got to do something about it!!!"  I know that I've tried to help fix that. Forty seems like a long time ago.  I actually went to my 40th Birthday Party, even though I showed up 2 1/2 hours late.  It's one of the rare ones that I showed up for.  We had talked about a big 50th Birthday Party with a bunch of friends at The Clermont Lounge.  I told my friends that with the Covid restrictions, if I couldn't get a lap dance from a 70 year old stripper, I didn't even want to go.  My plans are much more subtle now, but will still be fun.  Hopefully I will get to meet an artist that I admire.  

Anyways, it's time to start the reminiscing I suppose.  I've made changes in the past ten years, I left my hometown of Pike County Georgia for the Northeast Georgia Mountains.  My first house here was in Reggie Meaders old home.  I enjoyed my time there.  It was really cool getting to see history as it was happening.  I became friends with David Meaders, who passed away earlier this year.  I always looked forward to kiln firings, those were fun times.  Those years in the old Meaders place were hard on me financially though.  I remember telling people that I'd leave and go back home, if I wasn't too broke to.  I had some good times in that old house though too.  

I lived in Dahlonega for a while too, I really grew fond of the "Steak 'n Shake."  Then I moved to Hollywood, GA into what is now referred to as "World Famous SamG Land."  Lorri and I had been dating a while and I had lived here briefly before moving to Dahlonega.  I told her that I needed my own space here, so I purchased a studio building.  She told me  that I could do whatever I wanted to here.  I don't think she thought I'd do this.  

One of the favorite things about the last 10 years has been the people that I've met.  There are so many that I won't try to name them all.  Just know that I love you.  

A lot changed on March 13, 2017 when I damn near died on the shitter.  That's documented in one of the past blog posts, if you aren't familiar with that story.  I had to give up smoking, drinking, fried foods, and collard greens, broccoli, and cabbage.  With all the things I had to give up, I gained a few things too.  The foremost being appreciation.  I've learned to appreciate every day and every one (unless they piss me off).  I see other artists talking about setting goals and planning for the future.  I tried doing that at one time.  Now my daily goal is to have as much fun as I can.  That's all I hope to accomplish, having fun.  I recently told someone, "I see all these artists talking about working, if art is work, then you're doing something wrong."  Art to me has always been "happy fun time!"  

Now looking back at the past year.  It's been amazing. I'd planned on doing more shows this year and had actually signed up for a couple. I miss seeing everyone and can't wait to hug people and hunch on some legs. But then Covid hit and everything was cancelled. But that was ok, things kept happening for me.  I feel like I've been on this magic ride since October of last year. It didn't slow down thru the winter and when Covid hit, it seems like it picked up even more.  2020 has been a tough year on a lot of people, but I can honestly say that even without doing one single show, it's been the best year that I've ever had as an artist, by far!  I wanted to make people come to me, and damn if it didn't work!  I got a couple of breaks that really helped me too.  For those I am very grateful.  

As for the future, I will be here in SamG Land making my own world, trying to spread as much love as I can, and being as oblivious to the outside world as possible.  I'm just going to try to be happy and have fun until the world explodes. 

To anyone who wants to throw me a 50th Birthday Party, go ahead and do it.  Cut the cake and have a good time.  Play some music and dance.  Break out the karaoke machine!!!  I probably wouldn't have shown up anyway.  I just have this thing about hating birthdays.

SamG

Be Good to Everybody.... my visit to a snake handling church

 I went to church this morning.  It's not something I regularly do anymore.  The last time I was in one was almost 2 years ago down in Plains, Ga.  Lorri and I along with our friends Jack and Ginger went to see Jimmy Carter teach Sunday School.  Today I went to the Edwina Church of God in Jesus Christ's Name in Newport, TN.  It is led by Pastor Jimmy Morrow.  It's a small church.  They believe in the handling of serpents.  Jimmy is also a folk artist.  The only people present were myself and Lorri, Pastor Morrow and his wife Pam, and the assistant pastor and his family, for a total of about 10 people.  Jimmy let me know though that National Geographic was there 3 weeks ago and the Smithsonian Institute had visited recently.  

I heard about Jimmy Morrow through Fred Scruton.   Fred is a well known photographer of art environments and folk artists.  I was intrigued by his photographs and wanted to learn more, and I wanted one of those dolls for my collection.   I've heard tales of snake handling churches most of my life, mostly in a negative or derogatory sense.  I will say first that I was drawn to his art first, and the idea of a cultural experience seemed intriguing.  Then I got to speak with him over the phone.  He has a strong country accent with a distinct twang in his voice.  We talked 15 or 20 minutes about religion and art and he told me that he'd cancelled church for a while because of the coronavirus, but was starting back up on August 16th.  I told him I'd see him then. 

We got there today and met his wife first.  He was over at the building next door where he has some of his artwork on display.  He saw us and hollered for us to come over.  We talked and looked thru all of his paintings in there while he worked on hanging pictures of him and his wife.  Then we walked over to the church and looked at his artwork in there.  Then up the mountain to the cemetery where his great, great, great grandfather is buried.  He lived to be 115.  Jimmy told a story about when he died, his beard was 6 feet long, they stole his wife's rolling pin to roll his beard up and buried it with him.  He also told us that he won a greased pig catching contest when he was 90.  Jimmy also showed us a rock that had some carvings in it that he went to to pray before service every Sunday.  Then we go back in for the service.

He starts his service at 1:00 pm.  He told me the reason why, but I can't remember what it was.  The service started out with a prayer and some singing.  I didn't know most of the hymns they sang.  There were a few standards like "I'll Fly Away" and "Amazing Grace" mixed in.  There was no piano.  Just people singing and some kids playing tambourines.  Then they asked if anybody wanted to sing anything.  One lady picked a few and sang them from her seat.  Jimmy got up and sang a few, followed by his wife Pam.  Pam has a beautiful voice that sounds more like it would be more at home in a blues club in Memphis than in a country church on the other side of the state.  The message was done by the assistant pastor today and was followed up by Pastor Morrow giving a talk.  

After the service, we stood and talked to the members in attendance.  When they all left, we did the business of purchasing a couple pieces of art.  Jimmy Morrow is a man of stories and a great conversationalist.  I read somewhere that he only has a 5th grade education, yet he is a highly intelligent man.  The one thing that I heard him say over and over today was, "Be good to everybody."  Maybe if all the churches would start preaching that message more often.  Maybe if everybody would stop arguing and just do the simple act of being good to everybody.  But instead of doing that, people would rather argue over his belief of handling snakes and point out their discrepancies with his doctrines.  I read something the other day that read, "Hate is not a Christian value."  I don't see a lot of love coming from Church folks anymore.  People I grew up respecting have changed. 

So anyway, to get back on topic, I plan on going back up to visit Jimmy Morrow in a couple of months when it gets cooler to see more of his art and just shoot the bull.  I could listen to his stories for hours, and hope to!  

Tonight as I sit here and reminisce about the day, I just think about all the trouble the world is in, and how one country preacher reminded me today of the answer to fix it. 

Be Good to Everybody.

Be Good to Everybody.

Sending love to everyone of you....

SamG