Clevon

04/15/2026

We here in the holler support April as Autism Acceptance month! This is a time to recognize, support, and promote understanding for individuals on the autism spectrum. It’s also a reminder that inclusion, respect, and opportunity matter every day—not just one month a year.

If you’d like to learn more or access helpful resources, here are a few good places to start:

CDC Autism Partner Toolkit
https://www.cdc.gov/autism/php/toolkit/index.html

Autism Society – Autism Acceptance Month
https://autismsociety.org/autism-acceptance-month/

The Autism Society of America is proud to continue its fourth annual campaign in honor of Autism Acceptance Month.

03/27/2026

Part Two: The Night It Got… Un-Earthly Greetings and hallucinations yal.

Now I reckon I shoulda known things weren’t gonna settle down quiet-like after that Super Bowl shin-dig, on account of how the generator was still hummin’, the gravy stain was still settin’ in the rug, and Clutch’s Nuclear Sauce had done etched itself into the coffee table like it was claimin’ territory.

But it weren’t but two nights later, just as I was settin’ on the porch sippin’ leftover sweet tea (still strong enough to file taxes on its own), when I seen it…

A glow.

Not the normal kinda glow neither—ain’t like when Claude forgets to turn off that bug zapper and it looks like a disco for mosquitoes. No sir. This here was green. Real suspicious green.

I hollered, “Claude! You messin’ with that generator again?!”

Claude come runnin’ out, still wearin’ them same pajama pants from the party, and said, “That ain’t me… and if it is, I ain’t claimin’ it.”

Next thing you know, this big ol’ contraption come hoverin’ down right in the yard where Red had buried three chicken bones and a shoe. Made a sound like a w**d eater swallowed a harmonica.

Out steps… I kid you not…

An alien.

Now I ain’t never met one before, but this fella looked like if a catfish and a flashlight had a baby. Big ol’ eyes, skinny arms, and he was sniffin’ the air like he done caught wind of somethin’ powerful.

He pointed one long finger at the house and said—clear as day, but kinda echoey like he was talkin’ through a fan—

“WE DETECT… THE SAUCE.”

Clutch stepped forward like he was defendin’ family honor. “You mean my Nuclear Sauce?”

That alien’s eyes got wider than a possum in a spotlight. “YES. IT HAS BREACHED THREE DIMENSIONS.”

Now I don’t know what all that means, but I do know this: if your cookin’ starts causin’ interplanetary concern, you mighta overdid it just a tad.

Before we could sort it out, the temperature dropped colder than a tax collector’s handshake, and the porch light flickered.

And that’s when she showed up.

A ghost.

Floatin’ right there above Bubba’s tipped-over gravy fountain like she owned the place.

She had on one of them old-timey dresses and looked downright irritated.

She said, “WHO… DARED… DISTURB… MY REST… WITH… THAT… KARAOKE?”

Clovis froze solid. Hat tilted. Mic still in hand from two nights ago.

“…Ma’am, that was my rendition of Freebird.”

The ghost squinted at him. “You missed three verses and the guitar solo felt… disrespectful.”

Now here we are—me, Claude, Clutch, one sauce-summonin’ alien, and a musically critical ghost—all standin’ in Mom ’n ’Nem’s front yard like it was the most normal Tuesday in the world.

The alien then turns to the ghost and says, “WE WERE SUMMONED BY THE SAME DISTURBANCE.”

Ghost nods. “That sauce done woke me up, and his singin’ kept me up.”

Clutch crosses his arms. “Well I ain’t apologizin’ for excellence.”

That’s when the alien reaches into his belt and pulls out what looked like a futuristic mason jar.

“WE MUST CONTAIN THE SAUCE.”

And I said, “Now hold on—ain’t nobody confiscatin’ nothin’ without tastin’ it first.”

Long story short…

The alien tried the sauce.

The ghost tried the sauce.

Claude accidentally spilled some into the generator.

And Red barked at the alien until he tried to beam him up.

We ended up with:

One possessed karaoke machine (ghost won’t leave till Clovis “gets it right”)
A generator that now hums in Spanish
And an alien who refuses to leave because he says Cloverdale is now classified as a “high flavor anomaly zone”

Mom ’n ’Nem just shook their heads and said,
“Next year… we’re just watchin’ the game at your cousin Free Leeman's house.”

Now that there… is how things escalated just a touch beyond the Super Bowl.

03/20/2026

03/20/2026

Howdy folks!

Fer some reason I got it in my head yesterday that I needed me some fresh poke salat. Don’t ask me why—mighta been the weather, mighta been poor judgment. Either way, once that thought hits, there ain’t much you can do but go lookin’.

So I threw on my boots (well… mostly boots), grabbed my old hoodie, and headed on out. One thing led to another and next thing I know I done crossed the state line down into North Alabama. Now that probably shoulda been my first sign to turn around… but I kept on.

Wasn’t long ‘fore I got off in the woods a bit, lookin’ around, tryin’ to remember what poke salat actually looks like this time of year. That’s when it got… different.

I caught somethin’ movin’ out the corner of my eye.
Turned slow… and I’ll be dadgum if it wasn’t Sasquatch.

Didn’t say nothin’. Just stood there lookin’ at me like I’d walked into his kitchen uninvited. Kinda gave me a nod like, “You done messed up, son.”

Now I ain’t proud, but I eased on back a step or two. Figured I’d let him have first pick of the greens.

But just when I thought I was clearin’ outta there… I seen it.

Way off through the trees—little flickerin’ lights, just hoverin’ and blinkin’.
And I thought to myself… “Clevon… you done wandered off into them Cloverdale Spook Lights.”

At that point I didn’t need poke salat, didn’t need answers, didn’t need nothin’. I just needed to be back on the Tennessee side of good decisions.

So I headed on home.
Empty-handed… slightly concerned… and probably gonna stick to canned goods for a spell.

Moral of the story:
If Sasquatch is guardin’ it and the woods start glowin’… you didn’t need it that bad anyway.

03/05/2026

a picture of me and my best friend out on Natchez Trace Parkway.

03/05/2026

Complimenting vegetables improves their confidence. Thats a fact.

02/09/2026

Greetin's and hallucinations fellow friends out thar in the interwebs! So that thar famous Super Bowl is done and did, and I figure I'd tell all of youin's about my celebrations.

So, it was down in the haller, way past the spot where the road runs out, I had coaxed Mom 'n 'Nem to play host to the festivities. I went "all in" and then some to make sure this here shindig wuz the best party the folk in Cloverdale have ever seen! I de-cided I would make aunt Viola's "Deep-Fried-Chicken"... so crispy it squawks back! Claude made us some cornbread the size of an extra large pizza, and Clutch brought his famous "Nuclear" wing sauce - so called 'cause it could peel the paint off the house. Mom 'n 'Nem said they'd keep us in beverages, and made us sweet tea so good it could put hair on a frog!

Now, Mom 'n 'Nem ain't got no internet ner cable TV, so I had to use my powerful ingenious intellect to make sure we could get the game. I borrowed 3 TV antennas, two of them small satellite dishes and duct-taped everything together, and to make sure everythin' had sufficient power, Claude loaned me his generator - you know, the one he has 'fer his trailer down by the crik. That's the one he calls his bachelor pad, but as he's at the party, he let us use it 'fer the cause. Next, I went out and picked up every single TV I could find. I mounted them every which a way... on lawn chairs, hanging from the rafters, even managed to get one wedged into the freezer door. This away, everyone could watch the game and never miss a moment, no matter where you were in the house.

One of the highlights of the night was Bubba's Gravy Fountain. He took cousin Susie Belle's gravy boat and turned it into the best chocolate-style fountain! Glorious.... well, at lest until ole' hound dog Red knocked it over tryin' to get one of them deep fried chicken legs.

A big hit of the night was the drink station. I really wanted one of them drink machines like you get at Micky D's... but I had to settle for cooler full of Budweiser to go along with Mom 'n 'Nems sweet tea. 'Fer halftime festivities, Clovis did a karaoke routine complete with cowboy boots, hat, and the whole getup. I ain't to keen on rap, hip-hop, or R&B, so Clovis filled in nicely. Everybody legit teared up when he sang "Freebird"!

It was a great second half, other than when we celebrated the Seahawks winnin' with sparklers, and someone caught some paper napkins aflame. Folks started yankin' them napkins off of lawn chairs, and I managed to save the Chinet plates! I only bring the best to celebrate, know whut I mean?! The fire got contained when we threw enough sweet tea on it like it was cold water in a boxin' match. Not sure who called the Cloverdale Fire Dept, but they got thar too late, though I did send 'em back to the station with a container full of chicken.

Mom 'n 'Nem said they wuz gettin' too old 'fer this Super Bowl nonsense but I reckon they enjoyed themselves good enough. And that folks is how you celebrate the Super Bowl in style!

01/28/2026

Howdy folks! 'Fer some reason I keep wanting to post a message late. I guess since I'm up my brain decides it wants to download.

So, I hope ya'll survived that Ice Storm Fern. The roads looked halfway decent yesterday so I went out in the pulpwood truck to survey the damage. Put on my porch flip-flops and my favorite Mossy Oak hoodie and went to lookin'. I tell ya, there were some places that looked like a toothpick factory had exploded! I even saw a sweetgum tree leaned up against a fella's pickup like it needed to borrow five dollars.

I know'd we wuz some of the lucky ones who didn't lose power... but shore feel 'fer those that did! What did happen, was this mornin' Mom 'n 'Nem's freezer gave up its life on this earth and started makin' suspicious smells. They had an "Emergency Cook-Off" declared so I got out every grill, smoker, turkey fryer, and one questionable propane device Clutch built in shop class, and fired 'em all up at once. I reckon by noon, the yard looked like a tailgate sponsored by FEMA, know whut I mean?!

Aunt viola came over to visit, and was already four degrees into her coffee when she set foot inside - we're talkin' 60% sugar and 40% spite!

I de-cided to raise my sweet tea glass for a toast this afternoon. "To ice storms. May we survive 'em, complain about 'em forever, and never learn a dang thing from 'em!" We'll catch ya'll on the next one, know whut I mean?

01/26/2026

Greetin's and hallucinations to everyone! I shore hope you're holdin' up good durin' this massive ice event we're havin'. Know whut I find funny? That they named this here storm Fern. Why Fern? What kind of a name is that anywho? Is the next one gonna be called Ficus?

Well, I figured I'd update ya'll on the happenings 'round here during this cold snap. First of all, Mom 'n 'Nem was havin' a time of it yesterday. They wuz yellin' at there phone 'cause autocorrect refused to accept the phrase "hold my beer" as a complete sentence. I tell ya, technology ain't always what it's cracked up to be. Myself, I de-cided that I wanted to take a treat out to the Big Feet on the Trace. Remember I said in an earlier post that they weren't used to the cold. So, in my brainstorm for an idea, I came up with a great one! Deep frying a pop tart! Science demands sacrifice, know whut I mean? So, I took me one and lowered it down into that bubblin' oil with some bar-b-q tongs. It exploded. No worries. I just gathered up the crumbs and sat around with Mom 'n 'Nem and it made a great snack. I guess I gotta perfect that recipe before I take 'em out to th' Big Feet. As to Mom 'n 'Nem... they never got there phone to understand "hold my beer". They wuz just trying to send a text to aunt Viola.

01/23/2026

I know it's crazy 'fer me to be postin' so close to my last one, but I jus' found my new project that me and Clutch and Claude are gonna work on! With this bad boy, it can come a blizzard and we'll be able to go wherever we want! Clutch is already lookin' 'fer a good used John Deer. If 'n you knowd who built this sucker, lend a fellah some contract info would yah? I wana pick his brain on this, so come next Winter I won't have worry about stockin' up on supplies, know whut I mean?!

01/23/2026

Greetin's and salutations to everyone out thar in the land of the interwebs! I reckon you been watchin' the forecast like Mon 'n 'Nem to make shore that you're pre-pared for the big freeze. I done went to Walmart the first time that weather fellah on the TV said we could get some white stuff. And this is crazy, 'cause we hardly ever get it... well, 'cept when them small flakes fall outta my hair, but this ain't that. It's the real deal! My milk and bread are stocked and ready!

One thang I ain't so fond of is that thar rain that freezes once it hits somethin'! From what they say (whoever "they" are) there could be enough ice thick enough to qualify as aunt Viola's fine glassware! I wouldn't be surprised if the trees started bowing like they owed the ground money, know whut I mean?! I've been tryin' all day to get Mom 'n 'Nem's generator goin' too, 'cause I don't want to hear the power go out like a sad little pop like it's given up on life. Not hav'n much luck on that though... whut I may do is see about hookin' thar power up to my vehicle. I mean, the generator runs off of gas, and well... so does my truck. I can just run a wire to my battery, and keep the truck runnin'. Necessity is the mother of invention - I reckon I'm livin' proof of that one.

On the positive side though, I have decided that when everythin' hits, this is the perfect time to get out the grill! I know some of ya'll are shakin' your head, but it's a known fact that cold air just makes burgers taste sharper, know whut I mean?! I gave Mom 'n 'Nem the bright idea to boil snow for coffee... you know, just in case. I can also see the family huntin' dog Whiskey refuse to go out 'cause as he would put it if'n he could talk - "I didn't sign up for this".

Now, ya'll know how them county roads are gonna get when this ice hits. Last time we had a major winter storm, Clutch couldn't even get his truck outta the drive way. He slid off right into the ditch. Well, I'm thankin' ahead on that one. I'm saltin' our driveway with a 40 lb. bag of deer corn! I mean, normally I wouldn't worry, but I got's to get out to the Trace to check on them Big Feet! They ain't used to this kind of weather. Their cousin's, the Abominable Snowmen... they hang out in this all the time, but our Big Feet around here, it's gonna be rough. I may even bring them a big bag of deer corn. They are meat eaters 'fer sure, but that can be a snack to tide 'em over.

So... ya'll stay warm, and be safe! And remember - know matter what happens, it coulda been worse, 'cause even if your power goes out and you ain't got no generator... at least the beer stayed cold... know whut I mean?