Tie One On McClendon

I realized this weekend that I am Ole. That's what my Uncle June used to call Old. I was a little kid but I believe he meant that Ole was older than Old. And Ole is what I feel like. I went to a bar with Heather "tie one on" McClendon on Saturday night to drink for disaster relief. She is from Ringgold and a downtown pub pledged to give part of it's proceeds to benefit Ringgold tornado victims. I love to drink for a good cause, you know.

So, Heather was hell-bent to tie one on and she took me down with her. But let me tell you, I now hate bars. I cannot believe I am saying that, but this ole party-girl is just that, Ole. The smoke. The friggin'-A loud music. I have enough loudness in my life with the kids to want to go have my eardrums blow up.

So, I think the next day-Mother's Day-that I am ole, and a tad hungover, that I am okay being ole. I am GLAD to be Ole. I would much rather sit in the yard drinking a Newcastle (which is less than $6 bucks a pop) and be able to watch the offspring and hear my friends rather than wake up with smoky-black boogers the next day.