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an unorthodox journey


Tiger eats child

Received an e-mail regarding this

There is an abandoned house just west of Nashville. I had occasion to go onto the property - work related - and the site acquisitions guy (named Nigel) told me the story.

Apparently, this man, last name Savage, kept wild animals.  Yes, friend, you're right - the carnivorous kind. The tiger killed his little daughter.

This is the point where the tale meanders like the backroads of Tennessee and becomes urban legendish.

Legend has it that he lost his mind and has become a driveling Ijit ' and to this day nobody know where he is. And oh, the tiger actually ate his daughter - didn't only kill her.

Somebody else who knew of this story had a different angle on it. 

The man had allegedly continued to defend his decision to keep the wild beast in his house and he really left Nashville because the citizens of good sense were placing him under continued pressure and public disgust. He then up and left the state of Tennessee and ended up who knows where and continues his rock and roll lifestyle.

Is this fact or fiction? Do you know details of this story. Contact us.

Little stories:


Tale of the Tiger

Tale of the Airconditioner Man

Tale of the western couple

Tale of the cat and the strawberries

 Walking Tall







Southern style terminology

Ijit:( eejeet): in other English speaking zones of the world is actually 'idiot' - or half-wit, he who is bereft of intelligence

The incident of the cat and the strawberries

Fresh, ripe strawberries waiting just for me on the counter. Not liking cold stuff, I had left them out to become a tad warmer. When I returned I saw my cat running off with a strawberry in her mouth. In fascination I watched her. She then dropped it and jumped back on the counter. She proceeded to pick them up one at a time in her mouth and drop them on the floor.

How could I scold her? I still managed to salvage a few while she nibbled on a really mushy one.


Opinions & Theories




A tiny tale

Lesson of the air conditioner repair man:

He is no spring chicken. His face is care worn.  He looks to be one of those of the noble working class. He looks like a solid rock of tension.  I liked him. His teeth are not in good 'nick' which is a sign that he can't be doing all that well - even though he is a diligent worker.

He had a very heavy tool belt hitched around his one shoulder. His body endeavored to compensate. He looked totally out of whack.  Made me want to run screaming off to the chiropractor.  He mentioned that he had an appointment for an MRI because a doctor had detected some nasty calcification of the vertebrae. "Anything to find the cure for these headaches", he said.

Naturally, I went off at him about the most obvious place to look for causes: years of carrying that awful, heavy tool belt had so distorted his skeletal structure that he has pinched nerves all over the place. Thereupon I lectured him about the meaning of living.

Shame, I felt sorry for the poor guy - he seemed a really good southern sort.  I wish him well.





Old style country and western fans seen lounging in a bar where 'happy hour' halved the price of liquor..

The Western Couple

He: was wearing red and black and had long greasy hair - thinning now. His moustache needed grooming. He was an old last century hotshot now decayed and lonely.

She: wore an ill-fitting blonde wig; her face was lined with booze and disillusionment. A cowboy hat dangled behind her. Her diamante studded denim  skirt, frilly blouse and scuffed knee-high white western boots. Her eyes were glazed 

He: never recovered from being a handsome young stud with the "aw shucks" southern drawl. Now he coughed from too many cigarettes and too much whisky. Time has been unkind to him.

She: was once the cute, southern party girl now the old alcoholic, with a tragic tale of bad men and broken dreams.

They: danced and stumbled, grinning with missing and dirty teeth trying to find companionship in their endless need of the bottle, of a semblance of love. 

They played to the image that they once had.

Part of the rich tapestry of Nashville.

*A wee footnote:

In our travels to other countries we have seen versions of this couple perceiving life through the bottom of a glass.


Sigh! One day we shall be able to scan in our pictures but our accountant, Lynne, says that over her dead body will we pay ten bucks a shot at Kinkos.



Dr. Lipkin is an extremely intelligent bone doctor who works on Tarpon Avenue, Clearwater, Florida.

All travelers - virtual or other - need to have their bones adjusted regularly.














Keep on your journey, Friend. Dreams change. Find joy in something.