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IN THE BRIAR PATCH
I walked out of the Flagpole office last Thursday into the hot
afternoon, and a chemical smell from the nearby construction
mixed with the heat took me back to the summer woods of Greene
County. I guess it reminded me of the Roundup or something simi
lar that we painted onto the stumps of the small trees we cleared.
That summer in high school I worked in the woods with E.H.
Armor, cleaning up some land owned by a local man made good in
California. E.H. paid me by the hour, and I welcomed the money
as much as the exercise to stay in shape for football. As usual, I
ended the summer worn
out and skinny, instead
of gaining a few pounds
to provide some heft for
. running into opposing
tacklers.
The best part of it,
aside from the heat,
mosquitoes, ticks, yellow
jackets, snakes and scorpi
ons, was the opportunity
to hang out with Edgar
Harvey Armor. He has
shown up in these pages before and will again. He was a Greene
County original, though come to think of it, that could apply to
just about everybody over there.
E.H. was as Greene County as you can get—descended from
pioneer stock, born, raised and died there—and at the same time
a colorful character even among everyday eccentricity. Though
nearer my parents' age than mine and despite a couple of degrees
from UGA and a stint as a geologist, "H" refused to grow up and
lived at home with his mama. Aunt Berta, in their family home on
South Main Street. He loved young people and was an enjoyable
friend to several generations, remaining young himself as we grew
up and serving as an ever present reminder that growing older
doesn't have to eradicate youthfulness.
H would pick me up every morning in his Ford station wagon
with the cow bell mounted under the hood and connected to the
wire he pulled whenever he wanted to ring it in greeting or to ac
knowledge the sighting of a pretty girl along the way.
After picking up a block of ice at the ice plant—where H usu
ally kept a few watermelons in cold storage—we would chip some
ice into our quart White House vinegar jars and pour in a Pepsi.
(Now, I know that in later years H became an advocate of Mello
Yello, but in those days, he swore by Pepsi and would not hear the
name Coca-Cola.) By the time
we reached the woods, the
morning was already hot.
We were clearing under
growth with machetes and
axes, and I had more energy
than ability. From Jime to
time, I missed the whole tree
and broke the handle off the
a* ®, burying the head in the
ground. H was fond of telling
the boys back in town that we spent more time looking for axe
heads than we did cutring. Back then. H was a big eater, and he
always looked forward to lunch to see what my mama had packed
for me—which was usually a Spam sandwich with homegrown to
matoes and a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich and sometimes a
sliced-pineapple sandwich. H always had to help me with it.
After we had enjoyed Mama's lunch and rested in the shade and
hit a few more licks, H would frequently suggest that we knock
off and go to the river. That was long before Lake Oconee took
the name and the river. The usual dest ; nation was the mouth of
the creek, where Richland Creek ran into the Oconee (now a golf
course). If we had H's boat along, after cooling off, we'd take a
quick trip upriver, keeping an eye out for fish baskets. You put
some cornmeal pressed into a cake in an oblong wire basket with a
tapered hole in one end. so that the catfish could swim in but not
out. You tied a line to it and dropped it into the river, anchoring
the line on a tree root or something and trying to camouflage it so
that it couldn't be spotted from the water.
H had a sharp eye. We usually collected a few baskets, kept the
fish, re-baited the baskets and set them out in different locations,
attempting to hide them from other eyes. It was, of course, theft,
but H made it seem like a game, and it was better than working.
The work we did do was hard, but because of H it was enjoy
able. He had tried enough of the workaday world to know that he
preferred the woods, and he put together enough odd jobs to make
a living without sacrificing his life. Those of us who enjoyed his
company may not have succeeded as well as E.H. did. but we at
least qot the idea that work ought to be fun.
Pele McComtnons Ld f Qr i t it. ;+-.\editor*•* ie;/.r
He was a Greene County
original, though come
to think of it, that could
apply to just about
everybody over there.
The best part of it, aside
from the heat, mosquitoes,
ticks, yellow jackets, snakes
and scorpions, was the
opportunity to hang out
with Edgar Harvey Armor.
THIS WEEK’S ISSUE:
NEWS & FEATURES
Two Weeks On The Oconee 8
No Matter if There’s Water in It
Notes from a trip down the lower part of Athens’ hometown river.
I Study Arabic 11
A Vocabulary Lesson
Many English words—new and old—have their origins in the Arabic language.
ARTS & EVENTS
Off Night Athens 15
Home-Grown Sketch Comedy
Local comedians gather for the first installment in a local comedy series.
[MUSIC
Rising Above A Karaoke Ghetto 24
The Selmanaires Live For Music, Success And Not Moving Too Quickly
Blending influences as disparate as the Kinks and Gang of Four, the Atlanta
band’s debut album Here Come the Selmanaires displays pop savvy.
Laying Down The Hand 25
Daniel Aaron Talks About Timber, His Ace In The Hole
The local alt-country band has gone through lineup shifts recently in
addition to releasing the album Dark Heart... Lucky Hand.
Hot Nights, Hot Shows 26
A Great Time To Catch Big Conceits—Music Photographer Chris McKay
Recounts His 7 Favorite Shows of the Season
LETTERS
4
SELMANAIRES
...24
CITY PAGES
6
TIMBER
...25
OCONEE RIVER TRIP
8
SUMMER CONCERT COUNTDOWN..
...26
LEARNING ARABIC
11
RECORD REVIEWS
.28
OUT THERE'
12
TIIRFATS & PROMISES
..29
OFF NIGHT ATHENS
15
COMICS
..30
MOVIE DOPE
16
REALITY CHECK
31
ABC
19
CLASSIFIEDS
.32
COVER DESIGN by Kelly Ruberto
featuring a photo by Jesstyn Shields
(see Oconee river story on page 8)
EDITOR I PUBLISHER Pete McCommons
ADVERTISING OIRECTOR l PUBLISHER Alicia Nickles
PRODUCTION DIRECTOR Larry Tenner
MANAGING E0IT0R Margaret Moore
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MUSIC E0IT0R Chris Hassiotis
CITY EDITOR Ben Emanuel
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AO OPT ME Special Agent Cindy Jerreli
ABC Chris Hassiotis, Ben Emanuel
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Adrian Pritchett. Michael Ramirez. Robert Rhudy, Jesstyn Shields, lee Valentine Smith. Andy Stokes Michael
iVrhunt, Drew Wheeler
CIRCULATION Charles Greenleat, Clayton Au< ion toko Glidewell Anstey Greene 2ack Haas
WEB DESIGNER tan Rickert
ADVERTISING INTERN Stefa Witt
CONTACT US:
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VOLUME 20
ISSUE NUMBER 29.
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NEWS & FEATURES