Chamblee54

With the aid of Georgia’s secret sauce, Travis Clinton Hittson is scheduled to meet his maker Wednesday, February 17. Mr. Hittson was convicted of killing Conway Utterbeck on April 4, 1992. Mr. Hittson is white, while the most recent guest of the death chamber, Brandon Jones, was black. Mr. Utterbeck , buried in Stockton, MO, is presumed to be white, although this reporter has been unable to verify that. Here is the crime story, from the Georgia Attorney General. Additional information, as noted by links, is from the UNITED STATES DISTRICT COURT.
In the spring of 1992, Travis Hittson, Edward Vollmer, and Conway Utterbeck were stationed aboard the USS Forrestal, an aircraft carrier that was based in Pensacola, Florida, at the time. They were all assigned to the electrical division of the engineering department. Vollmer and Hittson were on the same work detail, and Vollmer was Hittson’s Leading Petty Officer. Utterbeck had a different assignment but worked in a similar capacity in the same area of the ship.
On Friday, April 3, 1992, Vollmer invited Hittson and Utterbeck to come with him to his parents’ house in Warner Robins, Georgia, for the weekend. His parents were out of town. Apparently neither Hittson nor Utterbeck was aware that the other had also been invited until shortly before they left Pensacola. The three men arrived at Vollmer’s parents’ house late Friday evening, but they did not have a key, so they spent the night in a storage shed behind the house. On Saturday, April 4, a friend of Vollmer’s parents came by to check on the house; finding Vollmer and the two others there, he gave them a key. The three sailors spent most of the day on Saturday hanging around the house, but sometime Saturday evening, Hittson and Vollmer went out drinking. They left Utterbeck at the house.
Early in the morning of Sunday, April 5, after several hours of drinking, Hittson and Vollmer headed back to the Vollmer residence. According to the statement later given by Hittson to law enforcement, he was very drunk by that time. On the drive back, Vollmer worked Hittson up by telling him that Utterbeck was “going to get us”—that Utterbeck was plotting to kill the two of them—so “we’ve got to get him” by killing him first. At some point—though it is not clear when—Vollmer told Hittson that Utterbeck had a hit list with Hittson’s and Vollmer’s names on it. When they pulled into the driveway, Vollmer put on a bulletproof vest and a long trench coat and grabbed a sawed-off shotgun and a .22 caliber handgun from his car. He gave Hittson an aluminum bat that was also in the car and told Hittson that Utterbeck was waiting for them inside the house and was planning to shoot them. Vollmer instructed Hittson to go in first and “get him” and then “get him in the kitchen”—so they would not make a mess on the carpet. When Hittson entered the house, he found Utterbeck asleep in a recliner in the living room. Hittson sneaked up on him and hit him in the head with the bat. Utterbeck woke up and jumped up out of the chair. Hittson hit him in the head again, knocking him to the floor. Utterbeck raised a hand to defend himself, so Hittson hit his hand with the bat and then hit him in the head a third time. The third hit was apparently enough to subdue Utterbeck. Hittson dragged him by his hands into the kitchen, where Vollmer was waiting. Utterbeck was still conscious and asked Hittson, “what did I ever do to you?” Vollmer gave Hittson the .22 pistol and stood on Utterbeck’s hand to keep him from struggling. Utterbeck screamed “no, no,” and begged for his life, but Hittson shot him point blank in the forehead. In his own words, “I had no emotion or nothing on my face. I know I didn’t. I was cold and Vollmer steps on his hand and . . . handed me the gun, I shot him.”
Hittson and Vollmer stripped Utterbeck’s body, taking the $62 they found in his pockets. They left the body in the kitchen and went to a nearby Waffle House to get something to eat. Upon their return, Vollmer told Hittson that they had to dismember the body and clean up the house to conceal the crime. They initially tried to cut up the body with a serrated steak knife from the kitchen, but then switched to a hacksaw from the tool shed out back. They also found a piece of slate in the shed, which they placed under the body to avoid scratching up the kitchen floor. Following Vollmer’s directions, Hittson sawed off one of Utterbeck’s hands and began working on sawing off his head, but got sick and had to stop. Vollmer finished sawing off the head, the other hand, and both feet. Vollmer also skinned part of Utterbeck’s arm and chest with a knife and a pair of pliers. The autopsy later showed that Utterbeck’s [genitalia was mutilated]. Hittson denied performing the sexual mutilation and stated that he had not seen Vollmer do it either. (Hittson stated that Vollmer acted alone in removing the victim’s genitals and carving out his rectum.)
After finishing their grisly task, Hittson and Vollmer wrapped Utterbeck’s torso and severed body parts in plastic bags and left them in the kitchen while they drove to a nearby wooded area to dig a shallow grave. As they were returning to Vollmer’s parents’ house—around 10:30 on Sunday morning—they happened to pull onto the highway in front of a local woman who was traveling in the same direction. The woman took notice of Vollmer’s car, which had an out-of-state license plate and was pulling off of a lightly traveled dirt road that led to an undeveloped tract of land owned by a friend. Suspicious, she wrote down the license plate number and a description of the car, which she later turned over to the Houston County Sheriff’s Office after Utterbeck’s torso was discovered on the property two months later. ( Louise Davidson observed a black Thunderbird with Florida license plates emerging from a seldom used dirt road in Houston County. Two people were in the car. Suspicions were aroused, and she noted the license number. When the victim’s torso was discovered two months later by loggers in an area off the same dirt road, police determined that the car previously observed by Davidson belonged to Edward Vollmer.)
Hittson and Vollmer returned to Vollmer’s parents’ house and began cleaning the blood off the kitchen floor and the living room carpet. Vollmer’s sister-in-law (who lived nearby) came by around noon on Sunday, while they were still cleaning. Vollmer left with her to go grab a bite to eat, without ever letting her inside the house. While they were gone, Hittson kept cleaning. When Vollmer returned, he and Hittson drove back out to the grave to bury Utterbeck’s torso and then went back to the house to finish cleaning. The family friend who had given them the key came by Sunday evening to check on the house again. Hittson had to quickly hide Utterbeck’s clothes and throw a blanket over a lingering blood spot in the living room. When the family friend asked where the third guy was, Vollmer told him that Utterbeck was asleep in the back room.
Hittson and Vollmer finally finished cleaning up the house sometime Sunday evening, and so they packed up and set out for Pensacola. They put Utterbeck’s severed hands, head, and feet in the trunk of Vollmer’s car, along with a few other pieces of evidence, including Utterbeck’s clothing, his identification card, and the .22 shell casing. They threw Utterbeck’s clothing and ID card in a dumpster close to Vollmer’s parents’ house. Before leaving Warner Robins, they stopped at Vollmer’s sister-in-law’s for about an hour to say goodbye. As they drove back to Pensacola, Vollmer tried to find a good place to dump the remaining body parts, but apparently did not find a spot to his liking.
They made it back to Pensacola around 6 a.m. on Monday, April 6. With Utterbeck’s body parts still in Vollmer’s trunk, they drove onto the Navy base and reported for duty aboard the Forrestal. When they got off work that day, they drove to a wooded area outside of Pensacola and buried the body parts in several shallow holes. On their drive back into town, they scattered some remaining pieces of evidence in a few dumpsters. …
When Utterbeck failed to report for roll call on Monday, April 6, the Navy took note of his unauthorized absence but did not further investigate until later that month, when Utterbeck’s mother called his division commander to tell him that she had not heard from her son since the first weekend in April—when he had traveled to Warner Robins with two shipmates. Inquiries aboard the Forrestal led Navy personnel to Hittson and Vollmer. When questioned about Utterbeck’s whereabouts, they confirmed that they had gone to Vollmer’s parents’ house over the April 3 weekend with Utterbeck, but they claimed that they dropped him off at a bar in Pensacola sometime in early morning hours of Monday, April 6. On April 27, 1992, the Naval Investigative Service issued a missing persons alert for Utterbeck, and on May 5 he was declared a Navy deserter.
On June 16, 1992, Utterbeck’s torso was discovered by loggers who were clearing the wooded property near Vollmer’s parents’ house. The loggers called the Houston County Sheriff’s Office, who unearthed the torso and sent it to the state crime lab in Atlanta. The autopsy did not reveal the victim’s identity. Upon hearing about the dead body, the local woman, who had months earlier written down Vollmer’s license plate, called the sheriff’s office. The plate number she had written down was off by one digit, so officials were not able to immediately trace the car to Vollmer.
On June 23, 1992, after receiving no new leads on Utterbeck’s whereabouts, Navy investigators broadcast a request to other law enforcement agencies for information regarding any unidentified bodies matching Utterbeck’s general description. The Houston County Sheriff’s Office responded the same day, informing the Navy that they had unearthed the remains of a white male matching Utterbeck’s characteristics approximately two miles from Vollmer’s parents’ house, with a time of death estimated sometime in early April.
Investigators from Houston County and the Navy interviewed Hittson on June 25, 1992. Hittson initially stuck to his story—that he and Vollmer had dropped Utterbeck off at a bar sometime early Monday morning—but after being confronted with the investigators’ suspicions that they had found Utterbeck’s dismembered body, Hittson confessed that he and Vollmer had murdered Utterbeck and buried him there. In a taped statement given to the investigators—which was later played for the jury—Hittson described the murder, dismemberment, and disposal of the body parts in detail. After confessing, Hittson led investigators to the spot outside Pensacola where the remaining body parts were buried. He also told the investigators where to find the baseball bat, which he and Vollmer had stashed in the rafters of the shed at Vollmer’s parents’ house. Hittson was then taken into custody by the Houston County Sheriff’s Office. That same day, Vollmer was arrested at his parents’ house.
The next day, investigators executed search warrants for Vollmer’s car and his parents’ house. They found traces of blood and .22 caliber ammunition in the trunk of Vollmer’s car. They recovered the .22 pistol, the aluminum bat, the hacksaw, the piece of slate Hittson and Vollmer used during the dismembering, and other various pieces of evidence from the house, and they found traces of blood on the kitchen floor and baseboard.
On February 27, 1993, following a jury trial, Hittson was convicted of murder, theft by taking as a lesser included offense of armed robbery, aggravated assault, and possession of a firearm during the commission of a crime. The death sentence was returned on March 2, 1993.
There is reason to believe that Mr. Vollmer, who was the Superior Officer of Mr. Hittson, was much more involved in the murder. “Travis Hittson was tried, convicted and sentenced to death for his participation in the murder. In October of that year, Vollmer entered a plea of guilty to murder and was sentenced to life imprisonment. Although he received the “lesser” sentence, it is evident from the information received in the investigation that Vollmer was the instigator in the murder, that he convinced Hittson to do it, that the manner of disposing of the body was Vollmer’s idea, and that Vollmer is, in a word, EVIL!”
The Forgiveness Foundation adds: “Travis was deprived of affection growing up and rarely received affirmation from others, leading to depression and the belief that no one could love him. Travis was enlisted in the US Navy. Many shipmates testified that he was good-natured, although dim-witted. He worked hard and was eager to please. He was also known to drink frequently and do stupid things when drunk. He did not have a prior criminal record.”
Pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”. UPDATE Travis Hittson died at 8:14 pm, Wednesday February 17, 2016. He did not request a special last meal. Mr. Hittson had the standard prison meal of meatloaf patties, brown gravy, mashed potatoes, peas and carrots, red beans, bread pudding.

February 5, 1914, was the birth day of William Seward Burroughs Jr. For the rest of this piece he will be known as WSB. This is both a handy abbreviation, as well as a touch of irony for Atlanta readers. WSB radio is a 50k watt clear channell am station, owned by the same media oligarchs that own the fishwrapper and channel two. The radio tv clusterfuck has long been the symbol of Peachtree Street white column respectability. Just to be clear/queer, from here on out in this feature WSB will mean a certain junkie writer, not welcome south brother.
This is a good day for birthdays. Hank Aaron in 1934. Adlai Stevenson in 1900. Peg Entwhistle in 1908. The last one lived until 1932, when she jumped off the Hollywoodland sign.
A well thought of radio institution called “This American Life” has a show this week, Burroughs101. Actually, there is a class by that name, and there will be an exam at the end of the semester. The show is narrated by Iggy Pop. It begins with a warning. “A warning. The following program contains references to homosexuality, drug use, sex with aliens, violence, and kitty cats. What did you expect?” The show was originally cobbled together by the BBC, which might explain things a bit.
Iggy Pop did a show at the 688 club. PG was in the audience. A man named Ivan Kral was in the band. When Mr. Kral came on stage, he blew his nose, and a white powder booger came out. The performance was not so much a concert as it was an endurance test.
The show has the lazy bloggers friend, the transcript. There are some lovely quotes. This show is not going to candy coat the bastard. This is a man who shot his wife while playing William Tell, and got away with it. As one non admirer says “I don’t just take the Burroughs myth with a pinch of salt. I view it as a unpleasant slug crawling across the lawn of literature. And I like to pour salt on it.”
Or this one. “Having used heroin yourself– I think used is a bit of an understatement. I was a heroin addict on and off for pushing a quarter of a century. For myself, I find the whole Burroughs myth pretty repulsive, actually. Because I understand what happened to me. I was an addict in waiting. I got my form prize or my English prize at The Naked Lunch. And a year and a half later, I was sticking needles in my arm. … You could be lying in some pestilential piss-soaked squat in the bowels of the city listening to some moron totaled on drugs drooling on and talking about Burroughs, because Burroughs was their Leon Trotsky. He was their Archbishop of Canterbury. He was the Pope. “
One of the questions of the early eighties was whether or not WSB was shooting up. Forget the nonsense about there not being any old junkies. Supposedly Ray Charles never really quit using heroin. So, in 1981, WSB was living somewhere in Manhattan, and it was a right of passage to go to the bunker and take heroin to him. Since he was the star, he used the needle first, which was an important distinction in those days … hiv did not have a name but was running wild through the junkie veins and queer buttholes of Reaganite America. We don’t know if WSB got hiv or not. He made it until August 2, 1997, when a heart attack sent him to meet his maker. Contemporary Allen Ginsberg cashed in his chips earlier that year. In Washington, silly billy POTUS was getting knob jobs from Monica Lewinsky, who now gives TED talks by calling herself a social activist. WSB was a social activist, at a time when few would publicly admit to such a distinction.
The answer to your question is, yes, WSB was shooting dope in 1981. Somebody saw this as being an unhealthy situation, and arranged for him to move to Lawrence KS. This was his home until WSB went to live with Jesus, who was pissed because WSB didn’t bring him any smack.
So WSB was living the beat life, shooting dope, fucking boys, and just being a general mess. In his spare time he was writing books. Naked Lunch was busted for obscenity, and became his best known work. It is the first thing by WSB that PG tried to read, making it to page twenty six before declaring the endeavor a hopeless waste of brain cells.
It is not known how much of Naked Lunch Dorothy Kilgallen read. She was called as a witness during an obscenity trial for Lenny Bruce. ” …There’s another book called The Naked Lunch which I couldn’t even finish reading, but it’s published, and I think the author should be in jail and he used– Q. Unfortunately we can’t do everything at once, Miss Kilgallen. Are you judging the non-obscene quality and the artistic quality of Bruce by the fact that The Naked Lunch is a book which, as of this date, is sold in the community? A. No, I’m not. I just mentioned it because you asked me for some books. Q. And The Naked Lunch is a book you found impossible to read, is that correct? A. Yes, I found it revolting. Q. What was revolting about it? A. Just the way it was written.”
Another expert witness to testify … to a BBC reporter, not a New York courtroom … is Marcus Ewert. A Dunwoody native, Mr. Ewert took literary groupiedom to ridiculous lengths with Allen Ginsberg and WSB. “We’re getting into bed, and I’m sticking my legs down under the covers. There’s this bump that my legs feel. And I’m like, “Oh, what’s this hard thing my legs are bumping against, William?” And he said, “Oh, that’s the gun.” I said, “Is it a loaded gun?” He said, “Of course it’s loaded.” You’d sleep with a lover with a loaded gun in your bed. That’s kind of a metaphor waiting to happen.”
Mr. Marcus is now a children’s book author. An Amazon reader says this about 10,000 Dresses. “I returned mine today and was appalled as I read the story to my son before reading it to myself. Kids need to feel safe at home, especially when dealing with gender non-conformity. I wish the author would have reconcilled the reactions of the family members. It is great to have stories out there addressing gender non-conformity in kids, but we have a huge responsibility to make sure they are sending the right message.”
The death of Joan Vollmer is discussed. This is the lady who was playing William Tell one night, with fatal consequences. Some say accident, some say intentional. The word uxoricide is used, meaning the act of killing one’s wife.
The cut up technique is discussed. The show goes on to talk about how much WSB liked cats. He died, and people said nice things about him. Pictures tonight are from The Library of Congress. This is a repost. Last year, PG found an audiobook of Junky, read by Mr. Burroughs. A two part post, Junky, and Junky Part Two, was the result.

An English language expression for caring goes give a _____. An unverified internet source tells one story: “(don’t) give a damn -The above phrase was originally I don’t give a dam (yes, the n is missing on purpose) and seems to have been brought back to England by military men traveling to India in the mid 18th century. A dam was an Indian coin of little value. After spreading to civilian usage, the phrase changed to I don’t give a damn and was first recorded in America in the 1890’s”
DGA__ went in two directions. Less offensive words like hoot, toss, and rip were inserted into the blank space. Others chose use more offensive items, like shit and fuck, in the formula.
No one seems to know what a damn is. It is hard to say what exactly is meant by not giving a shit, or a fuck. Fuck refers to a highly prized animal activity. Shit is a vile, smelly substance that is used for fertilizer. When you give a shit, do you gift wrap it?
A link to The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck recently turned up on facebook. Out of 2496 words, 113 are fuck, or incorporate fuck. The f-word is used as a noun, verb, adverb, adjective, preposition, and interjection. The f-word is not used as a conjunction. This is a curious omission. The literal meaning of the f-word refers to the act of conjunction.
It may seem judgmental to say so, but this attitude is selfish, arrogant, and irresponsible. If you stick around for the fine print, you see that it is not enough to merely not give a hoot. According to “Author. Thinker. Life Enthusiast.” Mark Manson, it is a matter of deciding what you want to hoot about. (The period is used at the end of a complete sentence. You should use one period per sentence.)
Here is a brief biography. “Mark Manson is from Austin, Texas, USA and graduated from Boston University in 2007. He began coaching men informally that same year, taking them out to local bars and helping them approach attractive women. Mark founded Practical Pick Up in 2008 and has since worked with hundreds of men in 12 different countries and four different continents. He’s given over 40 public presentations worldwide and has been interviewed for news shows and magazines. In 2011, he changed his business to PostMasculine.com to change his focus away from simply meeting and attracting women and to help with life’s issues at large.”
In other words, he got started coaching men on how to get women to give them a fuck. Mr. Manson has “evolved” into coaching everyone on fuck-not-giving. What a guy. This repost has pictures from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.

The wordpress homepage had an eyecatching story about “Sex and Bristol Palin“. It seems as though the young lady has taken a vow of chastity until marriage. This is a bit like locking the barn door after the horses run off…and Levi is long gone anyway. It was the comments to this that got PG’s attention. Someone has named their blog “Tallulah Bankhead“. The concept of using a famous dead person as an online identity is not original, but Tallulah Bankhead has a big personality to live up/down to. UPDATE: Bristol Palin has another baby. As for Tallulah Bankhead.WordPress, “This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below.” This is a repost, with pictures from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
Miss Bankhead was born January 31, 1902 in Huntsville AL. She had a year-older sister, Eugenia. Their mother died February 23, 1902. Legend has it her last words were “Take care of baby Eugenia. Tallulah can take care of herself.”
The father of the actor was Will Bankhead. He was a prominent politician, who served as Speaker of the House of Representatives in Washington. Mr. Bankhead was on the short list of Vice Presidential candidates for Franklin Roosevelt, but was passed over. The Bankhead national forest and the Bankhead Highway are both named for Will Bankhead.
Tallulah Bankhead was an actress, radio show hostess, and personality. She went to London in the early twenties and became a stage sensation. Returning home, she became a Broadway star with “The Little Foxes.” She made movies, but saved her best public performances for the stage.
Miss Bankhead was known for being sexually active, with both men and women. Hattie McDaniel, who played Mammie in Gone With The Wind, was rumored to be one of her “friends”. Her introduction to Chico Marx went like this “Miss Bankhead.” “Mr. Marx.” “You know, I really want to fuck you.”. “And so you shall, you old-fashioned boy.”
One legend has Miss Bankhead at a dinner party with Dorothy Parker and Montgomery Clift. As might have been expected, the cocktail hour went on most of the evening. At one point, Mister Clift had his head in Miss Parker’s lap. “oh you sweet man, it’s too bad that you’re a cocksucker. He is a cocksucker, isn’t he?” Miss Bankhead replied “I don’t know, he never sucked my cock.”
Her most famous movie role was in “Lifeboat”, directed by Alfred Hitchcock. Her co stars complained that she was not wearing panties under her dress. Mr. Hitchcock posed the question, is this a matter for wardrobe or for hairdressing?
In the fading days of radio, Tallulah was the host of “The Big Show”. She became known for her deep voice, and for saying “Dah-ling”. More than one guest got big laughs by calling her Mister Bankhead. After “The Big Show” ended, Miss Bankhead remained active on stage and television. She died December 12, 1968.
Miss Bankhead was a staunch Democrat, as is fitting for the political family she was raised in. During the McCarthy era, an actress friend of hers was accused of being a communist. Miss Bankhead made a statement of support for the actress on the radio, and then asked her, are you a communist? The actress said that her daddy was a republican, and so she guessed that was what she was. Miss Bankhead was horrified. “A republican! That’s worse than being a G-ddamn communist.”

Andrew Sullivan had an uplifting feature, the other day, about obituaries. As is his custom, he found an article at another site, threw out a juicy quote, and moved on. It is up to Chamblee54 to provide more detail, and put up pictures for the text averse. These pictures today are from the Pleasant Hill Baptist Church cemetery. This is a repost.
It is a common practice to look at the obituaries (aka “Irish sports page”) first thing in the morning. If the reader is not included, then the day can proceed as normal. This custom does not take into account the possibility that you have died, and your family it too cheap to purchase a notice.
The article in question is Ten things you don’t know about the obit biz It starts off by saying that the family members are usually happy to help the obit scribe. They have stories about the recently deceased, like ” Eddie “Bozo” Miller boasted of regularly drinking a dozen martinis before lunch, yet he lived to age eighty-nine.”
Newspapers take different approaches to obituaries. Some assign rookies, or use the death beat as punishment for troublemakers. Others give the job to their best writer. The paid notices are usually written by family members, with the help of the undertaker.
Of course, there is the occasional oddball. Alana Baranick, obituary writer for Cleveland’s The Plain Dealer and lead author of Life on the Death Beat: A Handbook for Obituary Writers , likes to visit every municipality in the United States named Cleveland.
One oft repeated saying is that obituaries are about life, not death. As the source puts it: “The British “quality” newspapers — The Times, The Daily Telegraph, The Guardian, and The Independent, substantiate the old chestnut about obituaries being about life, not death. These papers rarely mention the cause of death, focusing instead on presenting a vivid account of a lived life. American papers have an unhealthy fixation on death. It’s common for “complications of chronic pulmonary disease” or “bile duct cancer” to show up in the story’s lede, never to resurface.”
Only one obituary has won a Pulitzer prize. ” Leonard Warren, a Metropolitan Opera baritone, dropped dead mid-performance in 1960. Sanche de Gramont (who changed his name to Ted Morgan), a young rewrite man at the New York Herald Tribune, banged out the obit in under an hour and won a 1961 Pulitzer in the Local Reporting, Edition Time, category.”
There is an The International Association of Obituarists The headquarters is in Dallas TX, presumably near a grassy knoll. They have an annual convention, which is said to be a lively affair. The 2005 conference was in Bath, England. The 2007 conference was in Alfred NY. There is also the Society of Professional Obituary Writers.
IAO was founded by Carolyn Gilbert, the lady who puts the bitch in obituary. Ms. Gilbert collaborates on a page, Remembering The Passed. RTP has a series of podcasts. They require an apple app to listen, which is too much work for PG.
Death is a part of life. Every language has a word for it, and English has a number of slang expressions. An incomplete list would include : ““passed on”, “are no more”, “have ceased to be”, “expired and gone to meet their Maker”, “are bereft of life”, “have ceased to be”, “rest in peace”, “push up daisies”, “whose metabolic processes are now history”, “are off the twig”, “have kicked the bucket”, “shuffled off their mortal coil”, “run down the curtain” or “joined the Choir Invisible”
Columbia Journalism Review (Motto: Strong Press, Strong Democracy) has a feature about Obit. “Krishna Andavolu is the managing editor of Obit an online magazine intended for those interested in obituaries, epitaphs, elegies, postludes, retrospectives, grave rubbings, widow’s weeds, and other such memorabilia of expiration. Part eulogistic clearinghouse, part cultural review, Obit purports to examine life through the prism of death. Founded in 2007 by a wealthy New Jersey architect who sensed an exploitable niche after seeing a middle-aged woman distraught over the death of Captain Kangaroo, the site is a locus for enlightened morbidity.”
OM is worth a visit. The top story features a picture of Betty Ford, who survived Breast Cancer, Alcoholism, and The White House, to die at 93. The site has an ad from Newlymaid.com, with the creative suggestion to Trade In Your Old Bridesmaid Dress & Get a New Little Black Dress.
OM has a popular feature called Died on the same day. Grim reaper recruits on January 20 include Pope Fabian (250), Johnny Weissmuller (1984), Audrey Hepburn (1993), Etta James (2012).
No google search is complete without someone trying to make money. Obituaries Professionally Written says ” … we believe in honoring a life with respect, dignity and integrity. When needed, euphemism is used liberally. “
OPW content provider Larken Bradley says “”Obituary writing is an honor, a privilege, and great fun … I can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing.”… After she dies she expects her obit headline will read, “Obituary Writer, Six Feet Under.”

PG was going to repost an old favorite, Obituary Mambo. When you recycle something this often, it is a good idea to check the links. For OM, many do not work.
The story begins with a story at the digital home of Andrew Sullivan. This fine facility is now in paywall purgatory. When you click on the old link, you see a cartoon of a French borderguard, and the message “THIS CONNECTION IS UNTRUSTED You have asked Firefox to connect securely to andrewsullivan.thedailybeast.com, but we can’t confirm that your connection is secure. …” The browser has this reaction to several of the links in the original story.
Monetization of obituaries seems to have run aground. Links to Obit Magazine give you a page of fine print HTML. The International Association of Obituarists is not on the internet. The NPR interview with Carolyn Gilbert, founder of the IAO, is still up. Presumably, she is still putting the bitch back in obituary. Maybe the 2005 convention in Bath, England was too much.
Another link gave this result: “Welcome to http://www.obituarywriters.com ! Our new web site, powered by EarthLink Web Hosting, is currently under construction.” In its place is The Society of Professional Obituary Writers, “Proudly powered by Weebly.”
SPOW hosted a contest in 2011 and 2012. “Each year, The Society of Professional Obituary Writers holds a competition to honor excellence in obituary writing. Obituaries are submitted by reporters and editors from all over the world, and blind-judged by a panel of our members. Winners receive trophies, known as the Grimmies, and are feted at the annual conference.” Grimmies were given for Best Obit, and Best Body of Work.

The sixties were a great time to be a kid. As long as you were too young for a Vietnam Vacation, there were kicks to be had.
One of the more enduring legends was the dirty lyrics to “Louie Louie”. Recorded by an obscure band called the Kingsmen, the song was a massive hit in 1963 (It never was Number One). When WQXI put out lists of the greatest songs of all time, “Louie Louie” was at the top of the list. This is despite, or because of, the raucous sound. The song was recorded in one take, when the band thought they were playing a rehearsal. The vocals are difficult to make sense of, and rumored to be obscene. No one was ever quite sure why. With the garbled sound on the record, the listener could hear almost anything they wanted to.
The Governor of Indiana, Matthew Welsh, banned radio stations from playing the song in that state. On February 7, 1964, Attorney General Robert Kennedy got a letter from an outraged parent about the lyrics to “Louie Louie”. An F.B.I. investigation followed. After thirty months of investigation, the Bureau concluded that they could not make sense of the lyrics.
PG had a neighbor named Carol. A tomboy who could whip most of the boys, she had a pet skunk named Napoleon. Carol claimed to have heard a band at Lenox Square play “Louie Louie”. “He said the words real slow so you could understand them. I can’t repeat what he said, but it was dirty”.
Louie, Louie Oh no, me gotta go.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, said, ah
Louie, Louie Oh, baby, me gotta go
A fine little girl she waits for me Me
catch a ship for cross the sea.
Me sail that ship all alone Me never think how I make it home.
Ah, Louie, Louie No, no, no, no, me gotta go.
Oh, no. Said, Louie, Louie Oh, baby, said we gotta go.
Three nights and days I sail the sea Think of girl, oh, constantly.
Ah, on that ship I dream she there
I smell the rose, ah, in her hair.
Ah, Louie, Louie Oh, no, sayin’ we gotta go.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,
but, ah, Louie, Louie Oh, baby, said, we gotta go.
[Yelled] Okay, let’s give it to ‘em right now! [instrumental]
Me see Jamaica, ah, moon above.
It won’t be long, me see me love.
Take her in my arms again, I got her; I’ll never leave again.
Ah, Louie, Louie Oh, no, sayin’ me gotta go.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
But, ah, Louie, Louie Oh, baby, said, ah, we gotta go.
I said we gotta go now, Let’s get on outta here.
[Yelled] Let’s go.
Transcribed by David Spector Sept. 2000 Public Domain. If anyone reading this can explain what was so dirty about this song, please leave a comment. Thank you Wikipedia for your help in assembling this. This is a repost. Pictures by The Library of Congress

At 8:29 pm, Monday night, PG was staring at the computer monitor, trying to find life. The phone rang. PG picked it up. After a pause, a lady identified herself as Chris Jensen. Would you mind taking part in a survey? This may be monitored, or recorded, for quality assurance purposes.
Are you registered to vote? What is your zip code? What is the year of your birth? Do you consider yourself Democrat, Republican, or Something Else? PG is a card carrying Something Else.
What primary do you vote in? Georgia has open primaries. This means you can vote either Democrat or Republican. The only rule is when the inevitable runoff comes, you must vote with the same party as the first primary. PG usually finds Democrats to be slightly less obnoxious than Republicans. However, there is frequently more action on the Republican side. You can make a strategic vote against someone you do not like.
A list of names was read. Do you have a favorable, or unfavorable, view of each? Jack Kingston, Brian Kemp, Johnny Isakson, Nathan Deal, Casey Cagle, Lynn Westmoreland, and David Ralston. PG was split between not liking them, and not knowing enough to have an opinion.
The next few questions were about the Governor’s race in 2018. There will not be an incumbent in this election. If the race was between Jack Kingston, Brian Kemp, Casey Cagle, or Lynn Westmoreland, who would you vote for? What if the race was between these four men, a successful business owner who has never run for public office? This is way too hypothetical for an election in 2018.
Do you approve of Nathan Deal? (not as bad as expected, but not great either) What do you think of Casey Cagle and Brian Kemp? (lets hope they don’t get married) Who is paying for this survey?
Casey Cagle has been Lieutenant Governor for a while. This is a tradition in Georgia, where Zig Zag Zell Miller was Lieutenant Governor for sixteen years, before moving into the big house on West Paces Ferry Road. (Not the big house in Tattnall County) Getting back to Mr. Cagle, there was an unfortunate incident a few years ago. A capitol employee walked into his office, and found a lady with her head under Mr. Cagle’s desk. She was helping to tie his shoes.
As for Brian Kemp, the best thing that PG could say was that he was not Karen Handel. (The interview lady had no idea what PG was talking about.) The Secretary of State’s office is looking bad these days. “Two Georgia women have filed a class action lawsuit alleging a massive data breach by Secretary of State Brian Kemp involving the Social Security numbers and other private information of more than six million voters statewide. … including personal identifying information to the media, political parties and other paying subscribers who legally buy voter information from the state.”
The interview lady said there were just a few more questions. How often do you agree with the Tea Party? Is this the correct phone number? So my supervisor can verify this interview, can I have a name? The interview was over at 8:42 pm. Pictures today are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.

@SHARON_NEEDLES Of corpse it’s great to have people love your work.. But it’s also great to have people hate it !! ~ Is creating ugly graphics part of the gay stereotype? ~ we’re all God’s childr…. ~ I was a bit sarcastic. Many gay men have a bit of aesthetic awareness, and would not have created something that ugly. However, it is possible for a gay man to create something ugly. I might be mistaken. ~ @WernerTwertzog Dear Secret Santas, Your gifts are appreciated, but please no more teddy bears of all sorts, or Edvard Munch merchandise. Yours, Werner @WernerTwertzog No, cashier, I did not “find everything I am looking for.” But I suspect you did not mean it as an existential question. I absolve you. ~ I have listened to the show. I would suggest skipping ahead to the 22 minute mark, when Gus makes his appearance. Dr. Joyce is tough to listen to. As for what Gus said… I have a few opinions. I feel like there is a taboo about white men admitting they are being abused. On the other hand, you made the retreats you do with Franklin sound more appealing than the impression that I had about them. ~ when someone says “not a match” I say “you are not a butane lighter” ~ Sweet as Sugar, Rude as Hell, My Lost Interview with Truman Capote’s Aunt. ~ Aunt Tiny ~ puffho ~ Truman Capote: The Story of His Bizarre and Exotic Boyhood by an Aunt Who Helped Raise Him ~ 2girls1cup ~ war names ~ Philosophy Of 2Girls1Cup Philosophy Of 2Girls1Cup ~ 2 girls 1 cup scam ~ Georgia was going Republican before Slick Willie. Demoze are seen as being the party of black people and liberals. ~ o quote the fruitcake lady, may she rest in peace, “you are gonna ask someone who lives in FLORIDA how to vote?” I was going to link to the video, but NBC blocked it on copyright grounds. ~ “It’s a victory for the Clintons, and for the money machines that both political parties have now become.” This is from the quote that appears when you post a link to a story. The story is in Huffington Post, which does not pay writers. The link was posted on facebook, another “money machine” that depends on free content. ~ @nihilist_arbys It’s almost time to drunkenly cram your shitty kids’ stockings full of Arbys sandwiches & pass out in the snow Merry Christmas, from arbys ~ the evil twin wetlanta is coming back ~ pg paused the interview with erica jong to get a snack the last thing he heard was the hostess saying that ej was sick to death of writing honestly about women and sex ~ That is the second worst. Most people don’t listen at all. They are looking for an opportunity to interrupt. ~ Too Many Opinions Too Little Trust ~ pictures today are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”. ~ selah