Carrie Nations

You were either a Dawson Leary or a Pacey Wittier girl. Was it the intelligent, sensitive boy next door or the wise-cracking, sexual bad boy? For me, it was always Dawson, no questions asked.

Then after several seasons, along came Jack McPhee. The boy from a troubled family who stole Joey away from Dawson. His sensitivity wasn’t as angsty as Dawson’s, yet he seemed to have more of an excuse to have “woe is me” moments. He was the perfect brother to his sister, a great friend and even Dawson couldn’t hate him for too long. Jack McPhee shook things up for me. I started doubting my dedication to Dawson once his character appeared.

It was the green jacket that he wore that started it all. The characters all wore clothes from J-Crew that season and Jack McPhee sported a green jacket with a white stripe going down the sleeves. He wore it in almost every episode that he first appeared in. Dusty wore that same jacket. It was his favorite. We used to call it his “hip 90s jacket” and I’m not sure why we called it this, but it was the only thing it was referred to as.

He and I had been going out on and off throughout high school and I considered him my best friend. He, along with several other friends of ours, would meet after school on Wednesdays at my house to watch Dawson’s Creek. We called ourselves “The DC Crew”. Dusty and I would wait after everyone left to talk about the episodes and how we wished we lived in Capeside.

“I’d wanna be Jen,” I’d tell him, because I never could stand Joey. To me, Jen was the true gem of the show.

“I think I’d be Jack,” Dusty would say and then we’d kiss for hours until my lips would start hurting.

“I can’t believe Jack is gay,” my friend Jeremy said after the episode in which Jack revealed to the others that he was indeed gay. “I’m so not watching this show anymore. I don’t know what I’d do if one of my friends were gay. I’d probably stop talking to him.”

We were all shocked. I believe it was the first time we were ever introduced to a gay character on a TV show that we watched, and the fact that it was Jack McPhee, this totally un-gay personality. Jack McPhee, Joey Potter’s boyfriend. Jack McPhee, Dawson’s arch nemises – we just couldn’t believe it. And … he was wearing the “hip 90s jacket.”

“You know what that means don’t you?” Jeremy teased. “Dusty must be gay too if he and Jack have the same taste in clothes.” And we’d all laugh, including Dusty even though the statement would always just kind of hang in the air. It was not the first time the question of sexuality lingered around Dusty. The boys in our class had called him a fag plenty of times because of he could get any girl he wanted, yet he refuse sex from everyone of them. The fact that he got every part he tried out for in every school play and his awesome fashion sense certainly didn’t help.

“Would a gay guy wanna do this?” Dusty would ask me after I’d give him his fifth blowjob for the week. And I’d find myself thinking, sure he would. I’m not the one getting oral pleasure, you are.

But then Jack came along. He shook up Joey, he shook up Dawson, he shook up me and he shook up Dusty. A week after that episode, Dusty and I were sitting by my pool sharing a cigarette and we watched as the fire fell onto his “hip 90s jacket” burning a small hole.

“I hate this jacket anyway,” he said.

“You love it.” I said.

“It’s stupid.”

“It’s hip,” I insisted.

“It’s ugly.”

“It’s not.”

“I’m gay.”

There are moments in my life that stick out more than others. I remember how I felt crying in the bathroom after I lost my virginity. I can remember my tremors of excitment when the boy I met on vacation removed my pantyhose from underneath my party dress. I remember seeing my mom cry as she drove off from dropping me off at my college dorm for the first time. The moment Dusty told me he was gay will always be fresh in my memory and the lump it created in my throat is irreplaceable.

I can’t watch Dawson’s Creek anymore without being bitter, because I refuse to believe it was anything else.

Dawson’s Creek made my boyfriend gay. There, I said it.

Carrie Nations hopes no one was harmed by the mention of the word “blowjobs.” She’s still trying to get that stain out of her blue dress. You can impeach her at sundaysgirl@gmail.com.

By Joel Murphy

(In no particular order.)

The price of gas. It cost me almost fifty bucks to fill up my gas tank the other day, which is insane. I’m ready to buy an electric car or take a bicycle everywhere. Why aren’t we drilling in Alaska? I don’t care about the enviromental concerns. At this point, if you told me kicking a dolphin could save me a buck or two per gallon, I’d nail field goals with Flipper.

Our government. I miss the days when I used to worry about Big Brother watching my every move. After seeing how inadequate our governments was at handling the fallout from Hurricane Katrina, I realize that even if there was a top secret government agency watching my every move, it would probably be run by one of George Bush’s college buddies and it wouldn’t be the least bit effective.

Presidential election bumper stickers. Either your guy won or he lost – it doesn’t matter because the election is over. Take the bumper sticker off your car. Letting the world know that you voted for John Kerry isn’t going to fix shit in this country, it’s just going to show everyone that you backed a loser.

The way they package CDs.

Books For Dummies. If you are reading one of these books, you are obviously a moron. No really, it says so right in the title. Personally, if I want to learn something new, I don’t need to be insulted while doing it. So, I will continue to stay away from this series unless they change the name to “Books for Otherwise Intellegent People Who Happen to Be Unknowledgeable On This Particular Topic.”

PG-13 movies. Stop watering down R-rated movies so that kids can get into them. I’m 24-years-old and I want to see more violence and nudity in movies than your average 13-year-old can handle. Besides, teenagers are broke. I actually have a job and a car I can use to drive to the movie theater. Make movies for me. I miss the days when your average cop movie always found a way to lead the investigation into a strip club for some random nudity. Can’t we bring that back? How about some graphic violence? Stop cutting away during the best parts. Hopefully the recent success of good R-rated movies like The 40 Year Old Virgin and Wedding Crashers will convince Hollywood to stop watering shit down.

Jimmy Fallon.

Reality TV. It’s had a nice run, but I think it’s time to just let it die in peace like every other stupid fad. There is nothing real about it anymore. I love watching a bunch of average people fighting and hooking up as much as the next person, but these days all of the reality contestants look like out of work actors and the shows seem more scripted than some of the serious dramas out there. I’d rather have them put five more CSIs on the air than have to watch a Martha Stewart Apprentice show or Big Brother 37.

Televisions inside minivans. Every time my brother and I are driving down the road and we see a minivan with a little television screen showing some random Disney movie, we both get pissed off. Now, my brother gets upset because he feels that kids today spend too much time staring at television screens. He thinks that kids don’t need tv screens in cars, portable video games and all of the other televisions in public places that keep popping up to keep children quiet and save parents from actually having to do any parenting. But my anger comes from somewhere else – I’ve read stories about showing porn on these minivan screens, so everytime I see a one showing Aladdin, I just feel cheated.

The new passing cone feature on Madden 2006.

Jimmy Fallon.

Feeling like an old man. As I mentioned above, I’m only 24, but I feel like I’m 60. More and more I find myself saying stuff like “these kids today” and “when I was young.” I’m not sure what is going on with me lately, but I was in 7-11 the other day and I couldn’t get over how expensive candy bars have gotten. You used to be able to get three Mr. Goodbars for 99 cents. You just had to walk up a hill in the snow to get them.

The loss of peace and quiet. I was at a Redskins game recently where they had a moment of silence for someone who had died and still you could hear people talking or yelling out random shit the whole time. Why can’t people be quiet anymore? You can’t even go into your local library or movie theater these days without some dumbass talking loudly on their cellphone. Why can’t people just take a moment and shut the fuck up? Trust me, your conversation isn’t interesting enough for everyone in the room to be listening to, so just hang up the phone and shut your mouth. When did we get so dependant on cell phones anyway? How did we make it so long without talking to our friends and family ever five minutes, yet now we can’t live with out them. I hate cell phones and I hate talking to people. I tell you, every day I get closer and closer to just living in a cave.

Joel Murphy is the creator of Hobo Trashcan, which is probably the reason why he has his own column. He also has some really hot friends. You can contact him at: murphyslaw@hobotrashcan.com

By Brian Murphy

Arizona Cardinals – Brenda Warner.

Atlanta Falcons – Until Mexico’s own Mike Vick can consistently complete a pass downfield, defenses will be all over him faster than a mutant strain of herpes.

Baltimore Ravens – Let’s recap – it’s okay when former NFL players like Michael Irvin and Bill Romanowski go to prison to remake the film The Longest Yard. It’s not okay when your star running back, Jamal Lewis, serves a four-month prison term on a federal drug conviction.

Buffalo Bills – Talk about setting the bar low – during their “glory days” the best this team could do was consistently lose Super Bowls. Their fans can’t even hope for that, as long as their relying on a nobody quarterback named J.P. Losman.

Carolina Panthers – Two years ago the Panthers organization realized that no one would take them serious as long as they continue to wear light blue uniforms. So they decided to do something about it. Unfortunately, it involved several players (including a punter) using steroids. Seriously, why would a punter go on the juice?!?

Chicago Bears – Last year, nice guys Craig Krenzel (with his degree in Molecular Genetics) and Jonathan Quinn (Medicine Woman) “ran” Lovie Smith’s offense. With Rex Grossman out for several months, look for the Bears to improve on last year’s horrible quarterback situation by not having one and simply using 10 players on offense.

Cincinnati Bengals – Marvin Lewis was called a genius as a defensive coordinator in the NFL. So what’s happened since he became a head coach? The Bengals have ranked 25th (in 2003) and 26th (in 2004) against the run. Who moved his cheese?

Cleveland Browns – When one of your biggest offseason additions is 33-year-old Trent Dilfer, you know it’s going to be a while before the Dawg Pound has something to drool over. And I didn’t even mention Kellen Winslow’s motorcycle. At least they have a competent head coach now in Romeo Crennel.

Dallas Cowboys – Let’s go back in time to 1998 – QB Drew Bledsoe is a premiere passer and WR Me-Shawn Johnson is a top-tier wide out. Hell, owner Jerry Jones still looked like a normal human being. Too bad that was seven years ago. I wonder if they have any more of those Jap plays left … no offense.

Denver Broncos – Call it addition by subtraction, now that Jerry Rice and Maurice Clarett out of the picture. The Broncos would be good to go, if Jake Plummer would stick to throwing passes with only one hand.

Detroit Lions – Matt Millen has drafted a wide receiver with the Lions first round pick three years in a row (the delicate Charles Rogers, Roy Williams and Mike Williams). Is he convinced the rest of his team is flawless? Does he think he’s running a fantasy football team? We need answers.

Green Bay Packers – With RB Ahman Green having a down year, the Packers turned to icon Brett Favre and WR Javon Walker to put points on the board. So naturally those two have bickered all offseason about Walker’s desire for a new contract.

Houston Texans – Note to the Texans: if you want to be considered a legitimate playoff contender, you’re going to have to get rid of QB Tony Banks. Oh … and learn to play defense.

Indianapolis Colts – If head coach Tony Dungy is creative enough to come up with a reason why it’s “acceptable” for Randy Moss to wipe his ass on the goalpost after a touchdown, why can’t he use that same creativity to find a way to beat New England?

Jacksonville Jaguars – The only way to get Jacksonville involved in a Super Bowl was to make it the host city and invite two other teams to come play there. The locals didn’t seem to mind though – for once an NFL game in Jacksonville wasn’t subject to a black out. At least Fragile Fred Taylor was kind enough to start the season with his annual injury … no sense waiting on that one.

Kansas City Chiefs – With Priest Holmes sidelined last year, the only noteworthy highlight was when head coach Dick Vermeil told young RB Larry Johnson to “take off his diaper.” You know things are bad when a 68-year-old cry baby says you’re the one in Pampers.

Miami Dolphins – In one of the team’s first practices of their 2005 training camp, head coach Nick Saban made rookie Manuel Wright cry after he showed up in the wrong uniform. Hopefully with the enigmatic Ricky Williams back, he can give Saban some sort of substance to mellow him out a bit.

Minnesota Vikings – Onterrio Smith. Whizzinator. Sometimes these things just write themselves.

New England Patriots – It’s been an unusually tough offseason for master motivator Bill Belichick. Team leader Teddy Bruschi will miss the season after having a stroke. Offensive Coordinator Charlie Weis and Defensive Coordinator Romeo Crennel have both moved on. Hell, even Belichick’s wife left him. So forgive the Pats if they have a down year.

New Orleans Saints – Everyone knows quarterback Aaron Brooks looks like comedian Martin Lawrence. But with Brooks having such an off year, do you think that there was some sort of secret swap-out going on (like in the movie Dave) and that it was actually Lawrence who suited up last year? That sure would explain a lot.

New York Giants – Heading into training camp, you had Eli Manning, who is the Frank Stallone of the Manning family, as the starting quarterback. Behind him was Jesse Palmer (a.k.a. – The Bachelor) and Tim Hasselbeck (whose wife was on Survivor). Sadly, they have a better chance of landing their own reality TV show than a playoff spot.

New York Jets – When Laveraneus Coles left for a big pay day in Washington two years ago, the Jets said “he was good, but he wasn’t that good. We won’t miss him.” Now he’s back and Santana Moss is gone and damn if the Jets didn’t say the same thing about Moss and pretend nothing ever happened with Coles.

Oakland Raiders – The most unstable owner, Al Davis, and the most unstable fans, the Raider Nation, now have the league’s most unstable wide out, Randy Moss. What happens when he takes a few plays off or leaves the field early? Find out this season on CSI: Oakland.

Philadelphia Eagles – How’s that Terrell Owens working out for you these days? At this point, Donovan McNabb would rather have a receiver who is afraid to go across the middle (see: Pinkston, Todd) than T.O. What a difference a year makes. At least we have another season of Donovan’s mom selling soup to look forward to.

Pittsburgh Steelers – Is Duce Staley collecting a salary from the Steelers or directly from his health care provider? With Staley heading into the NFL season already injured, the Steelers will have to pray Jerome Bettis’ 33-year-old body can hold up and that QB Ben Roethlisberger doesn’t hit the sophomore slump.

San Diego Chargers – Drew Brees, LaDainian Tomlinson and Antonio Gates were the feel good story of the year last season. But there’s a reason that Hollywood never made a Rudy 2 – underdogs don’t get to sneak up on the world twice.

San Francisco 49ers – Things have gotten so bad for this once-proud franchise that they’ve given up on professional football and moved into the movie making business. Unfortunately, their debut film – which featured racial jokes, lesbian porn and a trio of buxom, topless blondes frolicking with team public relations director Kirk Reynolds – opened to mixed reviews.

Seattle Seahawks – Their best player, running back Shaun Alexander, closed out the season one yard shy of the NFL rushing title. He then accused head coach Mike Holmgren of sabotaging him in his quest to lead the league in rushing and then moved on to a bitter contract dispute in which the team tried to give him away for a third-round pick. Should make for a lovely season, huh?

St. Louis Rams – Looks like the “Greatest Show on Turf” should plan for a season of reruns – it would be less painful than watching their current defense try to stop anyone.

Tampa Bay Buccaneers – Since they won the Super Bowl three seasons ago, the Buccaneers have gone 12-20 and signed every “hasbeen” and “never was” available in free agency. I guess the honeymoon is over for the people of Tampa Bay and Coach Chucky.

Tennessee Titans – The only way Steve McNair is making it through a season un-injured is if we pull a Robocop and turn him into half man, half-machine. Come to think about it – this would actually give people a reason to tune into Titans game this year. Let’s make this happen.

Washington Redskins – After failing to generate any offense at all last season, the Redskins vowed to do anything necessary to turn things around. The team then brought in new receivers and talked about installing the shotgun to help put points on the board. Everything looked great … until safety Sean Taylor grabbed that shotgun and pointed it at neighbors down in Florida.

Brian Murphy enjoys long walks on the bench – and watching the Eagles lose. Contact him at: murf@the5holes.com

Similar Posts:

• Note to Self – Why your team won’t win the Super Bowl 2011
• Note to Self – Why your team won’t win the Super Bowl 2008
• Note to Self – Why your team won’t win the Super Bowl 2007
• Note to Self – Why your team won’t win the Super Bowl 2010
• Note to Self – Why your team won’t win the Super Bowl 2009

Carrie Nations

When I was younger, I hated the fact that I lived in a small country town. Going into town was considered a family trip and we were lucky if we weren’t all carsick by the time we got there because of the windy roads. Along the way we’d get held up by tractors, trains, pickup trucks, you name it.

I had this little story book I used to read called The Country Mouse and the City Mouse about two mice cousins living two different lives and visiting each others’ worlds. This was my favorite book for the longest time because I wished that I had a cousin in a big city who might want to trade places with me for a little while. It was a nice little fantasy.

Anything having to do with the country, I despised. I would curl my nose up in disgust when my mom would exclaim with pride that she was raising me and my sister to be “good country girls.” I would protest every time Southern Rock, especially Lynard Skynard, would blare through our tape players. I rebelled by only purchasing rap music, even though I didn’t really care for it either. My dad would seem so disappointed that I hated being from the country and he’d tell family members, “This one thinks she is too good for us. She’ll move out of here the first chance she gets.” I really really wanted to live in a big city with everything in me.

Things are a little different now. The farthest I really got from home is where I am now and while it isn’t a big city by any means, it certainly is different from home. Since it is a college town, I’ve been introduced to people who have lived just about everywhere. Through conversations, interactions and just being myself, I have come to a certain conclusion: Perhaps you can take the girl out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the girl. I would still love to move to a big city, but my laid back southern breeding makes me wonder if I really could handle it.

For so long I tried to deny who I was. I told myself that I was nothing like the other people back home. I was different. I had different likes and dislikes – different plans for myself and my future. I had no desire to get married and start a family early on because I never really kept a boyfriend long enough to make me start thinking seriously. I had nothing to hold me to where I was except family. Still, there are things about me that will always remain, and I hate using this word, redneck. Try as I might, my mom did raise me as a good country girl and there’s nothing I can do about it.

I love the fact that if I wanted to see my grandma, my aunts, my uncles, and my cousins, all I have to do is walk outside. Back home, your family members are your neighbors. Having them close by is comforting, and I enjoy it.

When I go home, my shoes come off at my front door and that’s where they stay the whole time I’m there. My feet can withstand the dirtiest of ground, the rockiest of roads and I laugh in the face of gravel. Sure, I may be stocked up with Lamisil, but there is nothing that feels better in this world than walking around your yard barefoot.

My favorite meal is soup beans, fried potatoes, sauerkraut and corn bread. For dessert, a blackberry cobbler. My mouth is watering at the mere thought of a meal I once refused to eat because it was considered “country cookin’.” Speaking of, my mamaw makes the best chicken and dumplings you will ever taste. Most people don’t even know what those are here, and this is West Virginia. I pity you people.

I own two cowboy hats and wear them without any irony whatsoever. In fact, I love them. I do own cutoff shorts, and in my opinion, they are the only way to go when it comes to wearing jean shorts.

The back of the truck will always be the best place to ride, especially down dirt roads.

When I listen to music now, it’s almost always Southern or Classic Rock and I admit that I truly do get choked up every time I pay attention to the words of Simple Man by Lynyrd Skynyrd. Country music is not so bad either, especially on Sunday mornings after stuffing yourself with biscuits and gravy.

Clubs are okay, bars are even better, but Honky Tonks are the best. I’m a rowdy drinker. I don’t sip on martinis and Cosmos, I slam beers and shots of whiskey usually followed by me screaming “WOOOOOO.”

Sure, people know your business back home. It can be an incestuous (and I’m not talking about sleeping with your cousins/brothers/sisters “incestuous”) circle where half of your friends have been your lovers too and everyone knows everyone’s business, but at least you feel like you are someone. At least you’re not just another face in a crowd full of people. Granted, others love their anonymity, and I can too, but I can only go so long without hearing that so-and-so said this about me before I start wondering if anyone cares what is going on in my life anymore.

I used to think I liked pretty boys – borderline metrosexual. There is no way I could see myself with a guy like that now. I need a man. A strong, rugged country man who fears nothing and will walk alongside me barefoot. A man who will put hot sauce on everything he eats.

There are some things as a country girl that I don’t think I will ever be able to get into though. You will never see me line dancing. I don’t care for sweet potatoes (or yams) unless they are in form of a pie. And no matter what, I just can’t get myself psyched up about going into a Wal-mart. I fucking despise that place with everything in me.

I will no longer deny my roots or foundations that made me the person I am today. If I make it to a big city, that will be great. For now, I’m okay with staying grounded as a country girl. There’s no escaping it really. The accent is a dead giveaway.

Carrie Nations was barefoot while writing this article. Her toenails are currently pink. E-mail this southern belle at sundaysgirl@gmail.com.