It begs the question.
How lucky are the Irish?
They certainly have garnered quite a reputation for having red hot tempers and the dietary drinking pyramid that looks like an ABC's store's marked down clearance shelf. Not exactly habits we attribute to those who's luck are on the up-swing.
Never the less, there's something so right about rooting for the underdog (especially if it requires consuming many pint sized glasses of green brew).
In the immortal words of my favorite heart land rocking, Irish wanna-be Tom Petty,
"Even the losers get lucky sometime".
Trust me, even Tom will be listening to Van on Pandora all this week.
I plan on doing the same.
Feeling Lucky?
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Friday, February 15, 2013
Ringling Alumni Show at 80808 This Weekend!
Musical Chairs, Trahern Cook, Copyright 2013
I'm excited to be part of the Ringling Alumni Show, taking place at 80808 here in Columbia,SC.
The show is running from February 14 to February 20. Our reception is on the 15th, from 5:00pm to 9:00pm. This exhibit will display art from those Ringling graduates, working locally here in Columbia, SC. The lovely Lori (my wife) is creating our reception "Circus Fare" so come out and see what those crazy Ringling grads are up to and enjoy the show!
Sunday, January 6, 2013
This Year's Christkindl Market at Studio Campfire
You know it's a Christmas miracle when you've been visited by a North Pole Gnome, A Christmas Ostrich and the Spirit of a "Southern" Jacob Marley. That's what happened this year at Studio Campfire's Christkindl Market. And did I mention the carolers?
This is my Bro. It's no costume. He dresses like this all the time.
He performed a selection from his new book "A Christmas Carolinian".
Lori (my lovely wife) reads from our newly printed book "Gertie, The Christmas Ostrich"
Available on Amazon
He performed a selection from his new book "A Christmas Carolinian".
Available on Amazon
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Come Get your Fill, Of Holiday Cheer! (I know it doesn't rhyme, but it should)
Trahern Cook, copyright 2012
Friday, June 22, 2012
Alice In Wonderland
Trahern Cook, copyright 2012
I read somewhere that the working title for this story was "Alice, what you been smokin'?"
I think Lewis Carroll got it right. Or at least his editor did.
Monday, June 11, 2012
A Tare in the Green Felt Landscape, Part 4.
Only four balls remained on the table. The striped Eleven, two solids and the Eight ball.
High had an open shot at the red and white striped ball in the far corner, but there was a great distance between it and the cue ball he was aiming with.
"That's a lot of green." Low teased in a playful attempt to get into his opponents head.
High continued lining up his shot, giving only the slightest nod of acknowledgment to Low's comment. Then he took the shot with the pool stick following through the ball and like an arrow the cue ball found it's target, gently knocking the Eleven into the corner.
The cue ball then bounced off of the bumper and rolled within a foot of the Eight ball which was protected by the two remaining solids left on the table.
"Good, but now what?" Asked Low.
"Now we sip. I've got to think on this one." High replied, walking over to his half full glass of dark brew. He enjoyed a dark ale because he could drink it slowly and even as it warmed to room temperature the taste did not waiver. Low, on the other hand, would only drink a cold beer, and a light one at that. The end result being that he tended to drink his ale a little faster than his friend, but if there were any effects from the lop sided ratio of alcohol consumed Low never seemed to show it.
"Well, I've got time for one more then." Said Low walking over to an ice bucket holding several unopened bottles of ale. He twisted the cap off and reached over to High, suggesting they tap bottle to glass. High accepted. Then they both took a sip.
"Do you know I've got to pay to have the power hooked back up to my shed?" High asked in frustration. "If the power line had fallen in the road, well then, the electric company will take care it. Limbs included."
"Is it because it's not your actual house?" Low asked.
"Shouldn't matter. It's on my property and I pay the light bill." High stated indignantly.
"Alright. Just asking." Said Low, holding his hands up in retreat.
High took another sip of beer, still stewing. "Of course they came out and turned the power off. You know, So we don't get electrocuted? But now they won't turn it back on until the lines are rehung. Who do you call to do that? I've got a good mind to drag it all out of my yard and push it out into the road. Then they'll deal with it."
Low listened while taking a long gulp from his bottle. "I'm going to tell Anna she can't go. It's my weekend anyway. I'll help you move those lines and the girls can play with the cats. It's my weekend. I might even drive her down to the beach myself. The rates are cheap right now." Low exclaimed.
High picked up his pool cue, returning to the table. "What am I going to do here?" He was blocked. The way in which the balls were resting against the side bumpers did not appear to give High an angle to cleanly hit the Eight.
Low studied the problem as well. "Just jump the Five." He said jokingly.
"I've got a good mind to." High pondered.
"Have you ever tried that shot before?" Low asked.
"I've seen it done." High argued.
"Alright. Show it to me."
High raised the back of his pool cue up, pointing the front end over the top of the cue ball and down into the direction of the surface of the table. He took some practice stabs at the air while staring intently at the Five and the Eight. "Eight in the corner."
High jabbed the cue ball, popping it up into the air clearing the Five ball. His stick rammed down into the green felt. A puff of blue chalk rose up off the table like a lit firecracker had gone off. Both players watched as the cue ball came down hitting the top of the Eight ball and bouncing onto the top of the edge of the table beyond the bumper. High reacted by yanking his cue stick up as if pulling the reigns of a horse, only to hit the billiard lamp over head, knocking it violently back and forth. Then the cue ball bounced off of the table, hitting the hard wood floor, darting in Low's direction. He reached his hand out to try to catch it but in doing so knocked over his bottle of beer. The cue ball flew past his grasp landing again on the hard surface of the floor where it finally rolled underneath a bar stool. High and Low listened as the ball tapped it's last bits of energy.
The light overhead rocked in unison with the ever slowing tapping coming from underneath the chair. Then all was still again.
" Do you want to see it again?" Asked High, slightly embarrassed.
"And you spilled my beer." Low replied, wiping off drops of light ale from his pants leg.
"I did you a favor. Open one of mine." High said leaning underneath the pool table in search of the ball.
"Now that's just insult to injury. Do you see the ball?"
"I've got it." Said High slowly bending up from the floor.
"Is your back bothering you again?" Low asked.
"Just since I've been moving those limbs." High rubbed the cue ball, checking for cracks. Then he placed it back on the far end of the table for Low. "Your shot."
Low walked over and picked up the cue ball, repositioning it to be in line with the two ball that had opened up from the chaos of the previous shot. He slowly took aim and hit the ball. In went the blue Two. The cue ball rolled to the middle of the table and lined up perfectly for the five in the side. Low gently dropped the last solid in. Now it was down to the Eight ball for both players. It was positioned on the edge of a bumper just to the right of a corner pocket.
"I'll have to bank it." Low said pointing to the opposite corner of the table.
"Alright." Said High. "Hey, you know Lynda wants me to drive her out to the farmer's market Saturday morning. Why don't you bring Anna over to stay with Lucy Friday night and we'll take her to meet her mom in Sumter? We'll be out that way anyway. I'll send her off with a bag of peaches."
Low listened as he set up his shot. "Thanks High. Hide a kitten in those peaches for me. I'd love to see Bob's face when one of those rascals jumps out."
"Sure, Low."
Low took the shot and the Eight ball bounced off the bumper down to the other end of the table just shy of the corner pocket. The cue ball came to rest on the far end of the table from the Eight.
"Looks like I set you up." Sighed Low.
"We'll see. That's a lot of green." Said High.
"Hey, since your the one traveling Saturday why don't I bring my truck out and move those limbs for you? I'm getting tired of seeing you hunched over anyway." Low offered. "And I've got a friend who can probably reattach your line since you say the powers turned off. He's a retired electrician. He lives for that kind of thing. I can't promise you your cooler won't be empty when you get back though."
"I'll make sure it's filled with light beer. And thanks." High said studying his shot. "Eight ball, corner pocket."
At once, both men were reminded that they were in fact playing a game of competition and like so many times before they were neck and neck at the finish line.
High struck the cue ball rolling it straight across the table, but just as it almost hit it's target it rolled right over the blue mark left from High's ill fated attempt at a jump shot. A slight tear in the felt tripped the cue ball off course to the left, missing the Eight ball entirely. Then rolled into the corner pocket, scratching.
"Good game." Said High, conceding defeat.
"It's no way to win." Low sighed.
"Best two out of three?" High asked.
"Rack'em."
The billiard player took a sip of light ale from his newly drawn bottle and rubbed some fresh chalk on his cue stick. Taking aim on the tight triangle of assorted colored balls, he shot the white ball across the green felt landscape once more. The collision ensued and the opponents watched as the sixteen balls ricochet off of one another until, at last, the striped orange and white ball rolled to the corner pocket and disappeared.
"I am High." The shooter spoke.
"And I am Low." Said his friend.
High had an open shot at the red and white striped ball in the far corner, but there was a great distance between it and the cue ball he was aiming with.
"That's a lot of green." Low teased in a playful attempt to get into his opponents head.
High continued lining up his shot, giving only the slightest nod of acknowledgment to Low's comment. Then he took the shot with the pool stick following through the ball and like an arrow the cue ball found it's target, gently knocking the Eleven into the corner.
The cue ball then bounced off of the bumper and rolled within a foot of the Eight ball which was protected by the two remaining solids left on the table.
"Good, but now what?" Asked Low.
"Now we sip. I've got to think on this one." High replied, walking over to his half full glass of dark brew. He enjoyed a dark ale because he could drink it slowly and even as it warmed to room temperature the taste did not waiver. Low, on the other hand, would only drink a cold beer, and a light one at that. The end result being that he tended to drink his ale a little faster than his friend, but if there were any effects from the lop sided ratio of alcohol consumed Low never seemed to show it.
"Well, I've got time for one more then." Said Low walking over to an ice bucket holding several unopened bottles of ale. He twisted the cap off and reached over to High, suggesting they tap bottle to glass. High accepted. Then they both took a sip.
"Do you know I've got to pay to have the power hooked back up to my shed?" High asked in frustration. "If the power line had fallen in the road, well then, the electric company will take care it. Limbs included."
"Is it because it's not your actual house?" Low asked.
"Shouldn't matter. It's on my property and I pay the light bill." High stated indignantly.
"Alright. Just asking." Said Low, holding his hands up in retreat.
High took another sip of beer, still stewing. "Of course they came out and turned the power off. You know, So we don't get electrocuted? But now they won't turn it back on until the lines are rehung. Who do you call to do that? I've got a good mind to drag it all out of my yard and push it out into the road. Then they'll deal with it."
Low listened while taking a long gulp from his bottle. "I'm going to tell Anna she can't go. It's my weekend anyway. I'll help you move those lines and the girls can play with the cats. It's my weekend. I might even drive her down to the beach myself. The rates are cheap right now." Low exclaimed.
High picked up his pool cue, returning to the table. "What am I going to do here?" He was blocked. The way in which the balls were resting against the side bumpers did not appear to give High an angle to cleanly hit the Eight.
Low studied the problem as well. "Just jump the Five." He said jokingly.
"I've got a good mind to." High pondered.
"Have you ever tried that shot before?" Low asked.
"I've seen it done." High argued.
"Alright. Show it to me."
High raised the back of his pool cue up, pointing the front end over the top of the cue ball and down into the direction of the surface of the table. He took some practice stabs at the air while staring intently at the Five and the Eight. "Eight in the corner."
High jabbed the cue ball, popping it up into the air clearing the Five ball. His stick rammed down into the green felt. A puff of blue chalk rose up off the table like a lit firecracker had gone off. Both players watched as the cue ball came down hitting the top of the Eight ball and bouncing onto the top of the edge of the table beyond the bumper. High reacted by yanking his cue stick up as if pulling the reigns of a horse, only to hit the billiard lamp over head, knocking it violently back and forth. Then the cue ball bounced off of the table, hitting the hard wood floor, darting in Low's direction. He reached his hand out to try to catch it but in doing so knocked over his bottle of beer. The cue ball flew past his grasp landing again on the hard surface of the floor where it finally rolled underneath a bar stool. High and Low listened as the ball tapped it's last bits of energy.
The light overhead rocked in unison with the ever slowing tapping coming from underneath the chair. Then all was still again.
" Do you want to see it again?" Asked High, slightly embarrassed.
"And you spilled my beer." Low replied, wiping off drops of light ale from his pants leg.
"I did you a favor. Open one of mine." High said leaning underneath the pool table in search of the ball.
"Now that's just insult to injury. Do you see the ball?"
"I've got it." Said High slowly bending up from the floor.
"Is your back bothering you again?" Low asked.
"Just since I've been moving those limbs." High rubbed the cue ball, checking for cracks. Then he placed it back on the far end of the table for Low. "Your shot."
Low walked over and picked up the cue ball, repositioning it to be in line with the two ball that had opened up from the chaos of the previous shot. He slowly took aim and hit the ball. In went the blue Two. The cue ball rolled to the middle of the table and lined up perfectly for the five in the side. Low gently dropped the last solid in. Now it was down to the Eight ball for both players. It was positioned on the edge of a bumper just to the right of a corner pocket.
"I'll have to bank it." Low said pointing to the opposite corner of the table.
"Alright." Said High. "Hey, you know Lynda wants me to drive her out to the farmer's market Saturday morning. Why don't you bring Anna over to stay with Lucy Friday night and we'll take her to meet her mom in Sumter? We'll be out that way anyway. I'll send her off with a bag of peaches."
Low listened as he set up his shot. "Thanks High. Hide a kitten in those peaches for me. I'd love to see Bob's face when one of those rascals jumps out."
"Sure, Low."
Low took the shot and the Eight ball bounced off the bumper down to the other end of the table just shy of the corner pocket. The cue ball came to rest on the far end of the table from the Eight.
"Looks like I set you up." Sighed Low.
"We'll see. That's a lot of green." Said High.
"Hey, since your the one traveling Saturday why don't I bring my truck out and move those limbs for you? I'm getting tired of seeing you hunched over anyway." Low offered. "And I've got a friend who can probably reattach your line since you say the powers turned off. He's a retired electrician. He lives for that kind of thing. I can't promise you your cooler won't be empty when you get back though."
"I'll make sure it's filled with light beer. And thanks." High said studying his shot. "Eight ball, corner pocket."
At once, both men were reminded that they were in fact playing a game of competition and like so many times before they were neck and neck at the finish line.
High struck the cue ball rolling it straight across the table, but just as it almost hit it's target it rolled right over the blue mark left from High's ill fated attempt at a jump shot. A slight tear in the felt tripped the cue ball off course to the left, missing the Eight ball entirely. Then rolled into the corner pocket, scratching.
"Good game." Said High, conceding defeat.
"It's no way to win." Low sighed.
"Best two out of three?" High asked.
"Rack'em."
The billiard player took a sip of light ale from his newly drawn bottle and rubbed some fresh chalk on his cue stick. Taking aim on the tight triangle of assorted colored balls, he shot the white ball across the green felt landscape once more. The collision ensued and the opponents watched as the sixteen balls ricochet off of one another until, at last, the striped orange and white ball rolled to the corner pocket and disappeared.
"I am High." The shooter spoke.
"And I am Low." Said his friend.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
A Tare in The Green Felt Landscape, Part 3.
Low sent the cue ball rolling into the three ball knocking it into the side pocket. The cue ball bounced off of the bank and rolled into the six balls collected around the eight. they slowly spread apart and the striped ten crept towards the side pocket. Then, fell.
"Thanks Low. I need all the help I can get." High quipped.
"Anytime." Low replied. "They needed to be broken up anyway."
Low took his time considering his next shot. The table had opened up more now so he wanted to reexamine he options.
"How's your pick-up?" asked High, awaiting his turn.
"Still chuggin' along. No a/c, but it's paid for."
"Hey, nothing wrong with that. In fact ...."
"Of course you can borrow it" Low interjected. "Seven in the corner."
The seven fell. Then the four. Then the six.
"I told you I might not get another shot." High said, lifting a glass of dark ale he had been sipping on.
"Thanks, by the way. That storm knocked limbs down all over my yard." He said returning to his glass.
Low listened while studying the table. There was no obvious shot, so he walked over to his clear bottle of a lighter shade of ale. Maybe the table would show him something new after a slight break from play he thought. "Yes, that was quite a storm. Anna was with her mom that night and all I could think about was how they were."
"That would be hard. How did they fare?" Asked High.
"Oh, they were fine. Lost power like everyone else, and I guess Anna used Bob's flashlight for a nightlight. She said she covered it with her pink blanket so it wouldn't be too bright." Low said smiling proudly.
"She's a smart one." High said taking another sip.
Low set his bottle down. "Who's shot is it anyway?"
"Still yours."
"Stripes?"
"Solids. How many beers have you had ?" High asked jokingly.
The two friends had played so many games of Eight Ball together that sometimes during a break in the play they had to remind one another who was who.
"That's right, I'm all out of shots." Said Low.
"Bank the one ball into the side." Suggested High.
"Very well. I'll give it a shot."
Low used his cue stick to find the angle of the shot and after a few practice strokes he took the shot. The angle of the shot was precise sending the one into the side.
"Nice shot." Cheered High.
"You saw it first." Said Low.
"Yes, well I didn't think you would make it."
Low went straight to his next shot, feeling confident from his last. He tried another bank shot. This time bouncing the orange five down the length of the table, but it tipped the edge of the thirteen, sending the striped ball into the side pocket. The five lost steam, resting up against a side bumper.
"Thanks again, Low. Your feeling generous today." Said High, setting his glass down and picking up his cue stick.
"Now, will you kindly remove some of your stripes off the table?" Asked Low.
High obliged knocking in the fourteen, the nine, and the twelve.
"That's good, but I'd like another turn." Said Low. "So High, did you have any luck giving away any kittens?"
"You had to bring that up. Is this psychological warfare?" Asked High setting up his next shot.
"So you still have them?"
"Well, we've managed to give away two stripes and one solid." Said High relaxing his shooting form, taking a break from the table. "Hey, why don't you bring Anna out this weekend? Bring the truck, I could use the help and the girls can play with the kittens?"
"Let's see. Bring the truck, Anna falls in love with kittens, help you saw limbs from your yard. That's a tempting offer but I'll have to pass." Joked Low.
"There's also grilling involved, and a cooler."
"I can't. Anna is going to the beach this weekend. Bob's parent's have a house on Pawleys." Low sighed, listening to his own words as if he were checking his voice mail. " I told Jessica I'd meet them in Sumter and drop Anna off."
"Another time then." High said watching Low as he stared into the blinding sunlight shining through the lone window in the room.
"But you can still have the truck. I'll leave the key on the floor board." Low said, blinking his eyes as they adjusted back into the direction of the dark room.
"Thanks Low." High replied, turning his attention back to the game.
"Thanks Low. I need all the help I can get." High quipped.
"Anytime." Low replied. "They needed to be broken up anyway."
Low took his time considering his next shot. The table had opened up more now so he wanted to reexamine he options.
"How's your pick-up?" asked High, awaiting his turn.
"Still chuggin' along. No a/c, but it's paid for."
"Hey, nothing wrong with that. In fact ...."
"Of course you can borrow it" Low interjected. "Seven in the corner."
The seven fell. Then the four. Then the six.
"I told you I might not get another shot." High said, lifting a glass of dark ale he had been sipping on.
"Thanks, by the way. That storm knocked limbs down all over my yard." He said returning to his glass.
Low listened while studying the table. There was no obvious shot, so he walked over to his clear bottle of a lighter shade of ale. Maybe the table would show him something new after a slight break from play he thought. "Yes, that was quite a storm. Anna was with her mom that night and all I could think about was how they were."
"That would be hard. How did they fare?" Asked High.
"Oh, they were fine. Lost power like everyone else, and I guess Anna used Bob's flashlight for a nightlight. She said she covered it with her pink blanket so it wouldn't be too bright." Low said smiling proudly.
"She's a smart one." High said taking another sip.
Low set his bottle down. "Who's shot is it anyway?"
"Still yours."
"Stripes?"
"Solids. How many beers have you had ?" High asked jokingly.
The two friends had played so many games of Eight Ball together that sometimes during a break in the play they had to remind one another who was who.
"That's right, I'm all out of shots." Said Low.
"Bank the one ball into the side." Suggested High.
"Very well. I'll give it a shot."
Low used his cue stick to find the angle of the shot and after a few practice strokes he took the shot. The angle of the shot was precise sending the one into the side.
"Nice shot." Cheered High.
"You saw it first." Said Low.
"Yes, well I didn't think you would make it."
Low went straight to his next shot, feeling confident from his last. He tried another bank shot. This time bouncing the orange five down the length of the table, but it tipped the edge of the thirteen, sending the striped ball into the side pocket. The five lost steam, resting up against a side bumper.
"Thanks again, Low. Your feeling generous today." Said High, setting his glass down and picking up his cue stick.
"Now, will you kindly remove some of your stripes off the table?" Asked Low.
High obliged knocking in the fourteen, the nine, and the twelve.
"That's good, but I'd like another turn." Said Low. "So High, did you have any luck giving away any kittens?"
"You had to bring that up. Is this psychological warfare?" Asked High setting up his next shot.
"So you still have them?"
"Well, we've managed to give away two stripes and one solid." Said High relaxing his shooting form, taking a break from the table. "Hey, why don't you bring Anna out this weekend? Bring the truck, I could use the help and the girls can play with the kittens?"
"Let's see. Bring the truck, Anna falls in love with kittens, help you saw limbs from your yard. That's a tempting offer but I'll have to pass." Joked Low.
"There's also grilling involved, and a cooler."
"I can't. Anna is going to the beach this weekend. Bob's parent's have a house on Pawleys." Low sighed, listening to his own words as if he were checking his voice mail. " I told Jessica I'd meet them in Sumter and drop Anna off."
"Another time then." High said watching Low as he stared into the blinding sunlight shining through the lone window in the room.
"But you can still have the truck. I'll leave the key on the floor board." Low said, blinking his eyes as they adjusted back into the direction of the dark room.
"Thanks Low." High replied, turning his attention back to the game.
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