This is the story of a woman determined to save her hometown by opening a business and the calendar I am helping her create to help support those efforts.
I had the opportunity this week to do another photo shoot with the lovely Savannah, a new model from Alabama. I usually stay away from railroad tracks (too cliche), but the railroad bridge in Gadsden offered an interesting backdrop for a portrait session. As an Alabama model photographer, I’m always looking for great settings and awesome new faces.
There’s a lot going on here in my neck of the woods. If you are a reader of my blog, I hope you’ll consider attending one or more of these events I’m going to try to experience myself…
Last week, my sister Anita and I traveled to our shared Alma Mater, Auburn University, on our way home from Pensacola. Neither of us had visited the campus in almost a decade.
A couple of years ago, I started an online gallery selling my images of Scenic locations. It included lots of photos from Tuscaloosa, but none from the Loveliest Village on the Plains. With these new images, I have remedied that.
Anita and I drove around to take note of the changes. Lots of parking decks that would’ve been nice when she and I walked a mile to Haley Center. We also noticed how the students have tiny backpacks, presumably filled with tablets instead of the 40-pounds of textbooks that we used to lug around.
Auburn’s season opener in college football is this coming weekend, a rematch of the 2010 National Championship Game that we won. Wish I could travel to watch it, but not in the cards right now. I’ll be watching on TV and yelling, “War Eagle”!
It’s official. I can finally say “I told you so,” on a couple of critical points that I got into arguments with people about a few years ago.
Two recent studies illustrate the impact of the 2017 Tax Cuts and Jobs Act and the invasion of Iraq – both of which were heralded by the GOP as highlights of its leadership but turned out quite disastrously.
Bottom Line: the tax cuts didn’t come remotely close to “paying for themselves by turbocharging the economy” as President Trump repeatedly promised. They did substantially lower effective corporate tax rates and generate a flood of stock buybacks and dividends for shareholders.
Jane Gravelle and Donald Marples, who studied the tax cuts, are a lot like those who looked so hard to find Iraq’s weapons of mass destruction. They searched but found almost nothing.
I received the nicest endorsement last week from a former client, Mark Oldham of Oldham Properties. He’s a former client because I no longer employed full-time with the marketing agency through which I performed work for him.
Wednesday, August 7, 2019
To Whom It May Concern:
This letter is being written on behalf of Steven Stiefel.
Steven handled my various accounts while he was employed with Riverworks Marketing in Chattanooga. We owned 2 inns and 2 restaurants during his tenure there — StoneFort Inn, TerraMae, as well as Dancing Bear Lodge and Appalachian Bistro in Townsend, Tennessee.
Amongst other things, Steve wrote a ton of copy, “word-smithed” many ads, responded to complaints in the most incredibly professional manner (which we still miss to this date), brainstormed ideas, and generally was a fantastic person with whom to deal on all aspects of our marketing.
When my older brother Mark was a pimple-faced, overweight teenage boy with zero prospects of dating a real flesh and blood woman, he pinned iconic posters of sexy female celebrities like Farrah Fawcett and Loni Anderson all over his bedroom walls. These voluptuous babes — their firm breasts threatening to burst out of their bikini tops at any moment — were accompanied by classic beauties like Jane Seymour.
The display essentially surrounded him on all sides by the women who eluded him in real life outside of that room and provided him with an outlet for the adolescent angst he felt by the societal constraints on doing what comes naturally to teenage boys.
I would visit his room to listen to albums he owned and talk about science fiction TV shows we liked – all an excuse for me to marvel at the exceedingly beautiful faces and bodies on display like a Sistine Chapel of the Erotic.