This must be the place: ‘Subway steam like silhouettes in dreams’
Last Thursday, it was decided to go bowling. Galaxy Lanes & Games on the outskirts of downtown Sylva, in a somewhat dormant shopping plaza buffering the Great Smoky Mountains Expressway and greater Jackson County.
30 years strong: Celebrate Record Store Day with In Your Ear Emporium
This summer will be 30 years since Lauren Calvert opened the doors to In Your Ear Emporium, downtown Sylva’s record store. Over the years, the way in which people consume music has changed drastically, but the heart of Calvert’s business has not.
This must be the place: ‘Plates slammed onto the counter, coffeepot burped, voices ask of a loved ones’ whereabouts’
The title of this column is a sentence written in my old road journals. Back on Dec. 26, 2007. I was 22 years old and leaving my hometown of Plattsburgh, New York, heading west to start my first reporting gig post-college at the Teton Valley News in Driggs, Idaho.
This must be the place: ‘Cloud hang on the mountain, they make me lonesome inside’
With a cool breeze rolling through the Old City district of downtown Knoxville last Thursday evening, I clung tighter to my jacket, pulled the brim of my hat lower and meandered across the railroad tracks towards Boyd’s Jig & Reel.
This must be the place: ‘Beg, steal or borrow two nickels or a dime to call me on the phone’
Hello from Room 623 at the Hampton Inn & Suites in Owensboro, Kentucky. Just about six and a half hours from my humble abode in Waynesville. Russ Avenue to U.S. 276 to Interstate 40 and backroads through Southern Appalachia to get here.
Built to last: A conversation with Randall Bramblett
At 76, singer-songwriter/keyboardist Randall Bramblett has been a musical artist most of his life. In recent years, a new outlook on not only what he does for a living, but also what it means to be human amid a life immersed in creativity and connectivity, has emerged.
This must be the place: Ode to the written word, ode to putting the paper to bed
It’s a lot quieter this week at The Smoky Mountain News. Not just because of the unusually warm weather this past weekend sparking folks to frolic and head for the hills.
Keep telling the story
When I first arrived in Western North Carolina just after New Year’s Day, 2014, I wasn’t planning to stay.
This must be the place: ‘I don’t want to own anything until I find a place where me and things go together’
I’m a minimalist. I don’t want much, nor do I care to ever have much. As long as I’m surrounded by shelves of books and stacks of vinyl records, a comfy recliner and some cold suds in the fridge in my humble abode of a one-bedroom Waynesville apartment (that also has a porch with mountain views, thankfully), I’m good to go.
This must be the place: ‘To laugh at the impossibilities which are here always after we are not’
Saturday. Late morning. The Waynesville apartment was quiet save the occasional motorcycle roaring along nearby Russ Avenue. My girlfriend had already gotten up and was at work by 10 a.m. I slept in a little bit, though my restless soul wouldn’t let the day fade.