Memo to Rick Bragg: Let’s sit down, reminisce and laugh (blog version)

 

Note: This story appears in slightly different version on AL.com here

Dear Rick

Great seeing you last night at your book signing.

If I forgot to say it: Congratulations on your cookbook/memoir ‘The Best Cook in the World: Tales from My Momma’s Table.’

How many were there at the Alabama Booksmith in Homewood to get a book signed? Looked to be about 200. Amazing.

Sorry I couldn’t stay. Greg Garrison, his son Wes, and I were on the way to a debate sponsored by AL.com, and we would have slowed your two-hour signing process way down.

You and me made note of not seeing each other in a long time. Last I remember was lunch at Niki’s West, your favorite Birmingham dining spot. But that was a few years ago.

We talked about getting together and having a sit-down talk to catch up. I joked we could spend two hours alone talking about our ailments. And, hell, we’re only 58.

This writing thing, or more specifically, the living thing, hasn’t always been easy but I want to compare your memories to mine over a cup of something, probably coffee.

The goal: Find lots of stuff to laugh about.

I want to reminisce about when we went on tour of West Jefferson Correctional Institution and had lunch with the inmates. Yeast rolls and butterbeans. There was Juicy and the Captain.

Walking out in the yard, the inmates shouted at us: “And the walls came tumbling down.” This was in the wake of the St. Clair prison riot in 1985 and the reason you and I went on this tour of West Jefferson. It led to a story on how the riot went down and prison conditions, which alas, haven’t changed much.

By the way, that Biblical quote (and John Cougar-Mellencamp song) shouted by the prisoners: You turned that into the opening of the story – another Rick Bragg special.

I remember when we got in some pretty big trouble for publishing the inmate’s list of demands.

I remember when we wrote together you’d tap something on the keyboards of our old VDT’s, look at me with a smile, stand up and say: I’ve got to walk that one off.

We can reminisce about the series of stories on foster children lost in the system which won some awards and a big luncheon thank-you from the National Social Workers Association.

We can talk about going to see Tom Petty in Atlanta. Road trip with several other Birmingham News folks, Dennis Love maybe? We’ll remember it.

We can talk about the big party after your first book signing for “All Over But the Shoutin’.” It was Atlanta and several of us ended up crashing on your floor. Or maybe it was you crashing on the floor. We’ll remember it. Luckily you lived right across the street from one of the oldest if not THE oldest Krispy Kreme establishment in America.

I remember you, me and Howard joining up and navigating the streets of San Francisco. We  were looking for fine dining and wound up in a burger joint. It was a good burger joint though.

I can remind you of how my wife, Catherine, pointed out with semi-feigned indignation because my name was in the “Shoutin”’ book (page 158)  but NOT her name.

You grabbed a book and wrote on the title page: ‘Dear Catherine, You’re in the book now, Sunshine.’

She loved it.

We got plenty to talk about, my time in California, your wedding in Memphis, Randy, families and friends. I mainly just want to follow up and make sure we do make a plan.

So, Niki’s?

I’ll tell Greg. (I’ll need a ride).