Today my "little" brother Jon turns 38 years old. It was a cold & snowy winter day in Union City, TN, when he came into the world fighting for life & breath. The hospital in Union City was not equipped with the type of equipment which is now standard for birth, & there was no certainty that he would make it through the first day of his life. Dr. Hill worked on him furiously in the back of an ambulance over icy roads all the way to Memphis, keeping him alive. Upon arrival, he was immediately rushed into surgery. My parents consented over the phone & my father headed to the Memphis hospital, leaving my mother in Union City recovering. My grandmother, Momo, had come to stay with us, & very overprotective, did not want us to play outside in the snow. She busied us with baking Christmas cookies & candies, glancing at the clock & telephone every few minutes. My mother was not home for Christmas, nor was Jon. Santa still came & we enjoyed our presents without their presence. Although mother came home within a week, she spent most of her time with Jon in the hospital. It was another 6 weeks before he would come home to stay & I marveled at the deep scar on his ankle where the surgeons had taken a vein used to save his life. He had a thick head of dark brown hair & deep big blue eyes. I had wanted a sister, but immediately bonded with him, feeling like a little momma, watching over him curiously as he healed & began to grow. He was a beautiful baby & toddler with long curly ringlets, & a big, sweet smile, who called me, "Criti." We played together very well as children, enjoying basketball & imaginary dress up games like "Little Rascals." Together we've experienced many joys & life's hardest moments. I know I can always count on him to be there for me when things get tough. So Happy Birthday, Jon. I'm so glad you survived those early challenging days & that you are still part of my journey today. I love you!

Doggie Overboard

(Note: I am preaching to the choir here...myself...pondering how this came about!)

Whatever happened to feeding dogs table scraps? When did the transition to store bought doggie food & chef prepared organic food begin? Growing up my grandparents always had outdoor dogs that roamed on their property & lived the lives of dogs, playing in the creek, catching rabbits, & running in the fields. I don’t remember them ever buying dog food…every night we would scrape the plates after supper & put them in an old cooking pot & take them outside to the dogs. (For years it was Mac, a beautiful big black mutt, & later it was Rainbow, an even larger, red coated mutt.) The dogs were thrilled with the scraps! They both lived good long lives on table scraps, an occasional rabbit, or squirrel. They played freely & were never leashed. These were very happy & contented animals.

Somehow we’ve transitioned into a world where dogs have semi-human status & an entire marketing model aimed at pet owners in general, who spend hundreds of millions, possibly billions on pet products, including gourmet treats, & organic meats. A survey from the Petfood Industry revealed that the total US market for pet food grew some 34% from 2002-2007. One of the reasons cited was, “The shifting perception of the family pet, from companion to reflection of oneself, continues unabated. Pet owners are increasingly interested in products and services on the higher end of the pet care spectrum.”

We’ve domesticated many animals and dogs are the most obvious. Fetching a stick in the yard is no longer acceptable. We must purchase special “fetch” toys that run $15-$20 apiece or a special “can” of tennis balls with the price greatly inflated from the pet store.

As the owner of two adopted dogs, (adopted in 2005, 2006), I’ve been amazed at the mass marketing of products for pets meant to appeal more to their owners. It is easy to buy into the hype & I have to watch myself since I do not have children or I can easily go overboard buying treats & chew toys.

I wonder, if this new “humane” (perhaps, human!) treatment of dogs & making them more & more domesticated, is creating happy animals or humans with an illusion of being happy or meeting a more human need of some sort? Since dogs no longer run free or live in the country, but in the city, we now must make time to exercise them (on a leash of course), give them chew toys to keep them from chewing furniture & shoes, dress them in clothes we like, & feed them human grade food…and all for what? We tell ourselves it is to give the dogs a good life & to make them feel better. But are we really just placating ourselves?

Remember, the pet industry itself told its professionals sales were up due to the shifting perception of a pet from a companion to a reflection of oneself! Who generated this shift? I have a feeling we were nudged a bit by marketing & message & we fell for it. Dogs even have their own social networking site, Dogster. (I wonder if anyone has told them about it!)

Guess what? The recession hasn’t even slowed down growth rates for the pet industry. From www.petfoodindustry.com, “According to the latest data from Mintel, sales of petfood and supplies continue to rise in spite of the recession. Sales will hit US$27.5 billion in 2009, an increase of 2.9% over 2008.” I suspect our pets are eating better than us, these days!

I love my dogs & treat them well. Unlike the dogs of my youth, they are inside dogs & they sit on the couch & sleep in my bed. They eat high quality food & have options for toys & treats. They keep me company. They bark to warn off intruders. We have a bond. And yet, sometimes I can’t help but wonder if they would not be happier roaming open fields in the country, catching rabbits, & eating table scraps.

http://www.petfoodindustry.com/0711PETboom.aspx
http://www.petfoodindustry.com/ViewArticle.aspx?id=25980

The Queen of Country Music Turns 90

Kitty Wells celebrated her 90th birthday this week in Nashville. (August 31st)

The first time I remember meeting Kitty Wells I was around 5 or 6, and my grandparents took me over to meet her after an evening service at Madison Church of Christ where they were longtime members, as were Kitty Wells and her husband, Johnnie Wright. I grew up hearing about the Queen of Country Music and had heard, "It Wasn't God Who Made Honky Tonk Angels," at least hundreds of times and of course knew Johnnie and Jack's biggest hit, "Ashes of Love." Madison was home to quite a few celebrities back then, including Jordanaires member Ray Walker, who would often lead singing when he wasn't out on the road with Elvis Presley. During church I had a hard time taking my eyes off Kitty Wells, who usually tried to make it back for Sunday night services to take communion after being on the road over the weekend. Kitty and Johnny traveled and performed well into their 80s. She was a rather quiet and shy person with a beautiful smile and to hear her famous voice speak my name was absolutely thrilling. It was always hard to reconcile seeing her in regular church dresses after seeing her perform on television and the Grand Ole Opry in the grandeur of rhinestones and glitter.

My grandparents didn't just know Kitty and Johnnie because they attended church together. My grandfather and Johnnie Wright were second cousins both through their maternal lines. Their mothers were cousins and they grew up in the same area near the Davidson/Wilson county line, so they had a long friendship that included phone calls to compare notes about relatives in common and updates on one another's lives. So as long as I can remember, I knew about Kitty and Johnnie and their music, and it fascinated me to think we were related, even distantly. After all, this WAS the reigning Queen of Country Music, and a true living legend.

In the late 1980s, I was working as a radio personality for WBVR and was contacted by Miss Norma Jean (yes, THAT Norma Jean of The Porter Wagoner Show) and Georgie Riddle about cohosting a Reunion of Professional Entertainers (ROPE) concert at the Grand Ole Opry House. I never knew exactly why I was asked because I was still pretty wet behind the ears in my radio career, and the other cohosts except myself and former channel 4 weatherman Dan McDaniel, were all members of the Disc Jockey Hall of Fame and included Ralph Emery, the popular host of TNN's "Nashville Now," at the time. But the posters were printed with my name just underneath Ralph's and I made plans to host my segment of the show which was to include introducing among others, Opry member Jack Greene, of "There Goes My Everything," fame. (As a side note here, this was synchronicity because Greene's song won Song of the Year in 1967, the year I was born.)

As you can imagine, the entire evening was pretty surreal. When I arrived backstage the Opry folks took me to my dressing room, big star on the door with my name (Christi Ray) and The Browns. (Jim Ed Brown's sisters.) I will always regret I did not take a camera that night or allow my parents to bring one either. I was young and trying to be cool, wanting to leave the impression hosting a show at the Opry was nothing to get overly excited about. Right!

Even better than hosting was the time backstage visiting with legendary performers of the Opry. They were all so warm and engaging. I was even kissed on the lips by legendary Bluegrass father, Bill Monroe, before I even knew what was happening. (I had been warned he liked younger women, particularly redheads.) Completely true, by the way. I met Patsy Cline's widowed husband Charlie Dick, Little Jimmie Dickens, and so many more great artists. However, I happened to look over to a darkened corner and saw Kitty Wells standing back from the conversation, so I went over to say, "hello," and reintroduce myself. I had not seen her in quite a few years and knew she would not know me. She was a bit reserved, expecting a normal fan conversation, but when I started to explain who I was, she suddenly grabbed me to her, hugging me tight, and said, "Oh honey, you're KIN." She then called her husband Johnny over and soon a crowd had gathered around us, Kitty Wells opening up and enthusiastically letting everyone know I was her relative. Norma Jean & Georgie Riddle pulled me aside later and said, "You never said you were related to Kitty Wells." No, I had not. How do you explain you are Johnnie Wright's third cousin? It sounds a little reaching to my ears.

In the late 90s, I spent two hours with Kitty, Johnnie, & Congressman Bob Clement when I interviewed them live on air for my "Buried Treasure" radio show on WANT-FM. I invited them and they graciously accepted. It was an incredible evening of laughter and recalling political and country music history. The Lebanon, TN, newspaper thought it was such a big deal to have Kitty Wells there, they came out and took photos of us for the newspaper. But it was more personal for me and felt like an important moment in my own history, to honor the generation that came before me, and learn more about their contributions and lives. I have audio tapes of the interview, as well as photos, which I will forever cherish.

Kitty Wells was the first female country singer in U.S. history to make it to the top of the charts and she lead the way for women to have big careers as solo artists in country music, influencing the first generation of major female solo artists like Tammy Wynette, Dolly Parton, Loretta Lynn, and many others. She was only paid $125 by Decca Records to record the song which initially sold over 800,000 copies. Incidentally, it was the very first record ever produced by legendary producer (Patsy Cline) Owen Bradley.

Besides the immortal "Honky Tonk Angels," Kitty had a long career and a number of hits, including, "Release Me," (please release me let me go...), Making Believe, Amigo's Guitar which she co-wrote, and popular duets with Red Foley (One by One) and Webb Pierce. Oddly enough her biggest song was considered risque and was banned from radio stations and the Opry for a time. Tennessee Governor Frank Clement even went to Washington, DC to testify at a hearing defending her song at the now infamous "indecency hearings." That seems impossible to believe with the music we hear on the radio and even on video channels today. It is even stranger, considering Kitty Wells was a young mother and faithful church member with an excellent reputation and the song was in response to Hank Thompson's, "The Wild Side of Life," and in defense of women on many levels.

Kitty Wells and Johnnie Wright celebrated their 70th wedding anniversary in 2007, which has been labeled by some as, "possibly the longest celebrity marriage in history."

Happy Birthday Queen Kitty. Thank you for your graciousness, kindness, and for sharing your music over the years.

M &P, not S &T just might make you healthy

To my surprise, my recent yearly physical exam revealed positive results, including a 27 pound weight loss & overall low cholesterol. Several friends have asked what I did to achieve these results since I was not actively dieting, (at least not in the traditional sense) & these tend to be problematic in my family.

One reason may be that this last year has been much less stressful than recent years, but in late December '08, I began exploring options for becoming healthier, which included reading about & researching numerous diets. At some point I felt discouraged knowing my own dietary needs to feel well & knowing none of the popular diets felt quite right to me. So, I started thinking, “What type of food do I like? What food do I eat that makes me feel good immediately after eating it?” I came up with a short list: rice (white & brown), couscous, fish, lean beef, spinach, dark breads, olive oil, almonds, apples, grapes, dark chocolate. Then I Googled & saw that many of the components of my list were found in the Mediterranean diet. Not a regular “diet” but the every day diet of people in that region.

My next step was checking out several books on Mediterranean Diet from the library. The book I renewed over & over was, “The MediterrAsian Way,” by Ric Watson & Trudy Thelander. (Note that this is just what seems to be working for me & that all individuals have different needs & varying body chemistry.) It is about lifestyle change, not dieting. With the help of the information in this book, I was finally able to remember the differences between the “fat” types for when I am shopping. I recite them in alphabetical order: M, P, S, T. Good fat=Mono & Poly. Bad fat=Saturated & Trans. Now I can quickly scan a box for M,P, or S, T. I try to completely avoid Trans Fat & only purchase products with very low saturated fat if it is something I like to eat.

On the M&P fat, I use olive oil instead of butter, snack on almond slivers, pretzels, baked chips, hummus, etc. My brother Jon said to me, “But what do you do about cheese?” (We are both cheese-aholics) “Easy,” I said. “I just quit eating orange cheese & only eat yellow cheeses which are lower in bad fat.” So I eat low milk fat string cheese, deli sliced muenster, mozzarella, swiss, provolone or pepper-jack, and for flavor I often sprinkle small amounts of flavorful cheeses such as feta, parmesan, gorgonzola, asiago, on salads, pasta, soup, or chili.

I also eat lots more brown rice. It makes me feel grounded & centered. My proteins are eggs-usually boiled, sunflower butter, legumes/beans, fish about twice a week, & lean beef. (I have to eat beef because my iron levels have been low my entire life & that helps keep me above the danger point.)

My biggest challenges have been implementing enough veggies & fruit into my daily diet, although I am eating more leafy things, & keeping frozen unsweetened fruit on hand to encourage healthier snacking. The dark chocolate bar has less sugar & I always keep it in my house for any type of craving emergency. Sometimes it sits on my top shelf for several months without being eaten. (really!)

As far as the cost is concerned, I find most of what I need at Aldi for decent prices & good quality. Trader Joe's is one of the best places to find healthier snacks, like frozen mango or freeze dried unsweetened fruit, although I hate driving there. Kroger helps supplement with Laura's Lean Beef products & Sunflower Butter. And I do not feel deprived in the least...I still enjoy what I eat & get lots of flavor. Overall, I have implemented these changes slowly, & with time the results are showing. I did not focus on weight loss but on overall balance & health. Since I only weigh at my doctor's office, the weight loss was a nice added surprise, but the lower cholesterol levels truly confirmed I am on the right path.

(While writing this I just learned of a website associated with the book I learned so much from. It is: www.mediterrasian.com.)

Blackberry Picking Time

Blackberry picking time always reminds me of my grandmother’s cobblers & jam. Every July my grandfather would trek up to the country around Smithville and spend the day picking wild blackberries. He started out while it was still dark, dressed in his coveralls & boots, carrying huge silver tubs for the berries. The bag slung over his shoulder carried his necessities for the day—a sandwich, a thermos of sweet tea, thick heavy gloves, handkerchiefs to wipe away the sweat, & a snake bite kit. Before his brothers died they would often accompany him & we heard him recount his adventures in the woods many, many times, including heroics like wrangling ten foot rattlers or scaring off rabbits & other animals also vying for the bounty.

My grandmother spent the day in preparation for his arrival, organizing the kitchen & her utensils, huge pots for boiling the glass jars & lids, sure gel to preserve the jam, plenty of flour to make the doughy crust for the pies, & several wooden rolling pins, among other items. Without cell phones there was no checking in & no reports of the days events until he finally made it home mid-afternoon. He handed off the tubs of berries to her with precision & immediately went to get out of his dirty clothes & bathe in their huge clawfoot bathtub, attending to the briars & cuts he had culminated while picking.

Meanwhile my grandmother began her arduous work. Berries filled the sinks & as the water ran over them the porous white porcelain began to turn a strange purplish blue. (Later my grandmother would scrub them with bleach & you would never suspect they had turned so purple in the interim.) In the second sink the ripe beautiful berries would drain & the process of pouring them into smaller metal pans would begin, as groups of us crowded around her small kitchen table to sort through them & of course, “test” a few in our mouths. Once our sorting was done, removing the berries not suitable for use, whether too ripe or too bitter, she ran most folks out of the kitchen to continue her multitasking: making jam, preserves, cobblers, & little freezer bags full of the wild blackberries.

I have to laugh now at HGTV type shows where families mock what they deem to be unsuitable kitchens. My grandmother had a tiny, tiny kitchen without double ovens, stainless steel, or granite countertops, & she was able to successfully cook, can, bake, & freeze thousands of blackberries in there and all at one time, no worse for the wear, barely able to turn without running into something. People today hardly cook & Lord knows they rarely can fruit or vegetables or whip up blackberry cobblers from scratch. It is hard, hot work, & it takes patience & skill.

Amazingly, by 8 or 9 p.m. she had finished her work, including a now immaculate kitchen, and would join us on the porch for ice cream and a few fresh blackberries or settle down in her favorite chair to watch “Marcus Welby, MD,” or “Quincy,” depending on which decade it happened to be. The next day was always a frenzy of phone calls, making arrangements to deliver cobblers & jams & freezer prepared berries to friends & neighbors.

This repeated in various seasons, when peaches were ready, or apples, or strawberries. But my favorite time was always blackberry picking time, the musky sweet aroma filling her house on Berry Street in Old Hickory, as we celebrated our bounty with family & friends, & the strong satisfaction of a job well done.

The Quest for Context

The longer I exist, the more I crave context for the life I’m living & the shared journey of humanity. Not a day goes by that I don’t learn something new which sheds further light on the path. Although I tend to feel suspect of those who would offer certitudes & certainties, ultimatums & neatly wrapped finalities; I personally have become more convinced with age that without context— perception, thought, & logic are at the least, a bit impaired.

“Just the facts, ma’am,” said Sgt. Joe Friday on “Dragnet.” Wait, or did he? What he actually said in that episode was, “All we want are the facts.” Yet millions of people have adopted the first phrase and would swear that is what he said. Even the so-called facts when filtered through our human brains can be incorrect. Words we are certain we have heard, events we are sure we saw with our own eyes can be mangled and distorted by our own minds, somehow. How do our “facts” at the scene of an accident, for example, vary from eyewitness to eyewitness?

I believe our own sense of context or as the Merriam Webster dictionary says, “the interrelated conditions in which something exists or occurs,” (aka the environment or setting or the discourse), filters the view. At times this filtering may enhance our recollection, at other times it may subdue it with a thin veil of difference between reality and what we recall. We may alter the memory by just a smidgeon. Yet, it is forever altered. Problems and misunderstandings often arise from lack of context.

Maybe this is why all of the major world religions in some form speak to & admonish us to be non-judgmental. Jesus Christ in Matthew 7:1 (NIV), says, “Do not judge or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.” After all, our context is bound to be off base & lacking at times. The Native Americans are believed to have given us the aphorism (paraphrasing here), “Before you criticize someone, walk a mile in his/her moccasins.”

Let’s face it. We don’t always know what we *think* we know.

One of my favorite songs comes from the late Rich Mullins. His music & lyrics continue to inspire me more than ten years after his untimely death. From Brother’s Keeper:

I will be my brother’s keeper. Not the one who judges him.

I won’t despise him for his weakness. I won’t regard him for his strength.

I won’t take away his freedom. I will help him learn to stand.

And I, I will be my brother’s keeper.

At the times we do have a deeper perspective on a friend’s struggles or tragedies, don’t we have a tendency to go softer with them, particularly around sensitive issues? Context can provide a cushion of kindness, of understanding, of love.

What's in a Name?

Do you ever find yourself thinking about your name? Christi Pugh. It rolls off the tongue of others & I respond to it often without even thinking, a bit like Pavlov's dog. Sometimes, it feels a bit strange. You grow into your name & eventually it fits if you are lucky.

In my family, I am the only one without a "J" name. J.R., Judy, Jay, Jon, & Christi. This might explain why I have never really been too much LIKE my family. When I was about five, my mother told me my father had wanted to name me, "Jill," which she stringently (thankfully!) opposed. (This was before Jon, so there were only three "J" names at the time.) J.R., Judy, Jay, Jill, & Jon. For purposes of listing the family that sort of flows...but for my purposes "Jill" does not fit at all. Jill Pugh. I don't think so. At the time I was horrified of the idea, my young mind conjuring up images of Jill's unfortunate tumbling accident in the "Jack & Jill" nursery
rhyme.

I only remember knowing two other "Christi's," growing up & neither spelled it the same way I did. There was Christie from church whose mother gave my mother the most itchy frilly purple polka dotted pageant type dress for me to wear one Easter Sunday. "Isn't that cute," they said, "two little Christi's have worn this dress." My mother curled my long red hair in ringlets & scheduled an appointment at Olan Mills to capture the moment. I spent a painful night in curlers & a hair bonnet prior to that shoot. Plus I was required to wear even itchier tights & white patent leather shoes acquired from Buster Brown (Red Goose) shoes in downtown Union City. The only upside was the ride on the in-store merry go round & the golden egg with prize I received for my purchase. God how I hated that dress. Thus my association with Christie from church had a somewhat negative connotation. I was always afraid her mother would send over more "cute" hand me downs.

The other "Christy" (whose last name I will leave out to protect) was a year or so ahead of me in junior high & high school. In 7th grade, I came upon she & some other girls smoking in the bathroom. I was there to pee & did not care that they were smoking. I've always had a small
bladder. I am not dumb. I know when to look the other way. But this "Christy" & her friends ganged up on me & pushed me against the wall threatening to beat me up if I told on them. I was wearing a brand new outfit that day that I was so proud of...it was early Spring circa 1979 or 80 & those cute matching shirts & pants were in style. The pants were blue checked to match the shirt which was white cotton with a blue checked collar. I thought it was so great. They said it looked like pajamas. I don't believe I ever wore that outfit to school again.

There are lots of ways to spell Christi: Christie, Christy, Cristy, Criste, Kristi, Kristie, Kristy, Kriste, Kris-t, Chris-t...you get the idea.

I grew up in the era that many girls were named Lisa & Tammy. One time I asked my mother why I knew so many girls named, "Tammy." She said it was because their moms had grown up watching Debbie Reynolds in movies like "Tammy & the Doctor." (Come to think of it,
there were also a lot of little girls named Debbie growing up!) There was also a Tammy doll that came out around the same time as the Barbie doll. Funny, I never knew many girls named Barbie. (Barbie Benton was a Hee Haw honey at some point I think!) Kim was also pretty
common. Was this because of Kim Novak, sixties movie star? She was pretty big for awhile. ("Vertigo" anyone?)

There were some names I really liked as a child. I knew a girl my brother's age named Candy. Delicious! What a cool name, I thought back then. Now, not so much. Now, I associate it with the idea of phone sex operators or porn stars...

I liked people with different names than were common in the South. For instance my friend Lanita Meadows Bowman. What a cool name! She had a sister named Janie & a brother named Mark (among other siblings) but she was Lanita. So awesome. Ah, and I attended church
camp with Suze & Sam Swift. Names just don't get any better than that!

My grandmother Cassie was one of seventeen children all born at the turn of the century well through the 1910s. Some of her brothers & sisters included: Palmer, Alton, Aubrey, Toy, Carrie, Nettie, Margie, Morris, Emma, Elizabeth (Lizzie). Her parents were really good at naming their
brood. Their names by the way were J.T. & Sara. Old fashioned names like these have come back in style. There is an ebb & flow to names it seems.

I like having a President named Barack Obama. It makes me giddy! It reflects the melting pot that is America. It is a little crazy! It is different. Hey, I think it is even cool. Right after the election I would wake up & chuckle to myself, "I have a President named Barack Obama. Barack Obama."

Ah, I would be remiss if I did not mention the fun that has been had with my last name, "Pugh," over the years. I quickly learned in grade school to laugh along with it or to poke fun at it first, which pretty much stopped the jokes before they started. My friends in high school called me "Pepe Le Pew" like the Bugs Bunny amorous skunk character. I can handle that tag, I suppose. Better than the alternatives, no doubt! Honestly, I didn't feel as bad about my last name once I met a family named "Pigg" & another named "Butt." Surely it must be worse for them!

What's in a name?