10 June 2017

[TPC] - A write-up from contributing writer Ellis Millsaps: "Observations of a Deranged Mind."

* Ed. note: Ellis, AKA, "Da," actually gave me this write-up about three months ago. The first installment actually talks about New Year's. So...you can kind of get an idea of both Ellis's & mine's attention to time detail. FTR - Ellis is about to start writing a regular piece once again, and starting tomorrow, you can also read a piece from the 2nd ever contributor to The Chronicles - Mr. Donnie Hamlin. We always appreciate your readership, friends. Till we meet again. - MBM 

Greetings from your erstwhile Porterdale Correspondent, this week reporting of the second annual New Year's Eve ball drop at The Speakeasy, downtown.

The place, when you're alone and life is making you lonely, you can always go...and everybody does know your name!

In the interest of full disclosure, I didn't actually attend the ball drop - it was pouring rain - but I did read an account of it...somewhere, so I'm confidant what follows is at least alternative fact.

At 11:35PM New Year's Eve, Speakeasy owner Tim Savage got out his ladder and climbed to the roof of the establishment's two story building. The crowd, which included at least a dozen people under the balcony, and maybe a dog, as well as five intrepid souls who'd stood in the rain beneath the ball drop, began the countdown at ten seconds till midnight and then watched as, at the stroke of midnight, Savage proceeded to drop the traditional baseball. 

None of the five, though all wearing fielder's gloves, were able to catch the ball. Four claimed to have lost the ball in the lights, of which there were a few; the other of the five claimed the ball was camouflaged by all of the white shirts in the stands, of which there were none. So, then, the ball, autographed by no one, rolled into a puddle and was last seen being nosed up the sidewalk by an armadillo which we assume mistook it for an armadillo egg. Armadillos, of course, do not lay eggs, but they are remarkably stupid - "Hey, I ain't scared of no automobiles - I got body armor."

The episode was pretty much forgotten until the the president-elect tweeted that he thought the whole thing was rigged, and that he'd said so last year, though Politifact was unable to confirm any such statement... 


In Porterdale, Mansfield, Covington, and I assume everywhere else, the tornado alarm is always tested at 12PM every Wednesday.

What happens if the killer twister bearing down on us is sighted at 11:59AM on Wednesday? 


Seven feet outside the edge of my place, tennis shoes dangle from a utility line. I hear from reading that this is a gang sign marking a "hood."

One question I have is this: is this the center, or a boundary? If a boundary, am I on  the inside or out?

Judging from the quality of the shoes (Wal-Mart), I'm wondering how good our gang (Sparky & Alfalfa) really is.

Do they still exist? Or are they like a losing political candidate who won't take down his signs?

I think they should have a float in next year's 4th of July parade here in Porterdale.

Maybe set up a booth at the old gym. Perhaps conduct a seminar on crack pipe construction. Answer some of these questions for us... 


J. Ellis Millsaps 

Ellis is an attorney by trade but has worn many hats over the years: father, bus boy, stand-up comedian, novelist, wiffle ball player, rock'n'roll band manager, and at one time wrote a popular and funny column for The Covington News. A Fannin Co. mountain boy originally, Mr. Millsaps now stays at the mill village of Porterdale by way of 20 years in Mansfield. Usually funny and at times irreverent and subversive, he leans left in his political philosophy but can always be counted on for a pretty darn good write-up. The Chronicles are proud to have him involved...