I got nothing.  Dry as the Sahara. Maybe tomorrow. Brain hurt. Foot hurt. Pride hurt. My hurt, hurts. As soon as this foot gets over its swelling and condition - I'm making a rule to take walks more frequently and drag out the old dusty Total Gym 1000 and do something constructive with it - like hang mobiles from it or something.

 

 Laterz

 

 

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Daveman:
Hello Renee'. I am really pleased to conduct this Interview with you, especially after hearing your, Stone Country, album. Your Bio, and career history are very impressive for someone so young. How old are you?

Reneé:  
I'm 11 years old, soon to be 12.

Daveman:
With your acting and singing, and other talents, I am really curious; Which do you really like doing most? Is there anything you like more than the the two?

Reneé: 
I see myself as an "Entertainer". Therefore, I consider both singing  and acting a favorite. If you took one away, I would feel incomplete.

Daveman: I know what you mean.  Once someone took away my pizza and boy was I ever incomplete.   On second thought I guess thats not the same thing. silly me.      I hear you are really comfortable around those big actors, like Al Pacino? Most people are really nervous when meeting people with so much fame.  Aren't you just a tiny bit nervous?

Reneé:
No! No case of the butterflies here! I see them behind the scenes, waiting around, telling jokes, talking about everyday stuff and just being normal people.

Daveman:
Is it true you broke up with Al Pacino and broke his heart? I'm just teasing you. But I bet you had him wrapped around your finger.., you can tell me, go ahead..

Reneé:
Al is a great and very busy man. He took time out of his schedule to talk and take pictures with me. He has a child around my age. I could tell  he's a good dad. He is really nice.

Daveman:
I seen Al a few times  and he's always shooting people. Uhm.., Or was that a movie? =o)   Back to your music. For a girl your age, you have an amazing  grown-up singing voice. I could not believe this voice was yours, but yes ma'am, it  was really you! Do a lot of people tell you this? What do you think about it?

Reneé:
People have said I sound like I have a thirty year old voice trapped in a ten year old's body. I just smile. I hope when I am thirty years old I don't sound like I am eighty!

Daveman:
So you are going to host your own Tv Show on theYouth Radio Network (www.yrn.tv). I'd like to mention to the Road House visitors that, The Hey, Renee! show delivers a positive message in the form of an extraordinary entertainment experience. I bet this is another exciting job for you. Have you any thoughts you would like to share about doing your own show?


Reneé:
Thank you for helping me spread the word about the, Hey Renee! show.  I appreciate it very much. You are right about this being an exciting job!  I'm learning a lot and having tons of fun.

Daveman:
Good luck on your show, Renee'. I'll be checking in. Be sure to say Hi to the Daveman if they let you.  I can't help but  wonder..who are your favorite role models? and why?

Reneé: 
There are a lot of people I respect out there that do great charity work, are great entertainers, have accomplished a lot and give back a lot.  That's the type of person I want to be like.

Daveman:
I will tell you something; from what I've heard and seen about you, Renee', I think you are MY new Role Model. Thats right, you just replaced Clint Eastwood! What do ya' think?

Reneé: 
Thanks Daveman, that's flattering. Clint Eastwood is a great guy, I enjoyed working with him on "Spacecowboys". Those are big shoes to fill.

Daveman:
With all that you have accomplished, and you are soooo young, makes you my hero. I just thought you would like to know that. Also I wish I was a hundred and three thousand years younger..., whoo-hoo you are a real cutie. Got any boy friends yet? Silly question. I bet you have thousands of boy friends lined up at your door with flowers and candy.. Right? <big smilez>

Reneé:
Good Lord man! How old are you? Thanks, but, I'm taken.

Daveman: 
How old am I? I cant answer that because I lost track when I passed the stone age..(AHEM..)... Your'e taken?  Oh sure, Al again.. Right?       Ok.., I know you are busy and I promised not to take up too much of your time, so I'll wind this interview up.  Renee', it's been a pleasure to have you a part of the Road House Café, Country Newz Briefs. I hope sometime in the future you will want to sit through another e-Interview with the ol Daveman. If you have any Thank yous, to make or other comments now's your chance. Is there anyone in particular you want to mention or thank?

Reneé: 
Yes, I would like to thank, you, Daveman! Thank you for spotlighting me on the Road House Café Country Newz Brief, and for listening to my CDs and for helping get the word out about Hey Renee! on YRN.tv. I would also like to mention that both my CDs are available on amazon.com. Good-bye until next  time!

Daveman: 
Thank you, Renee'. You are a real sweetie to put up with me this long.     I wish you all the luck in the world, and I know we will hear more super things about you in the near feature.  Next time you see, "AL"..., tell him I said that I'm looking for him... 

 

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      The Road House Café was a Country Music Entertainment web site dedicated to  upcoming new and independent artists. I searched the internet for only the best of these promising indies and only the best were covered.

        Many wanna-bes and other no talents wanted, nay frothed to be on the Road House List. Needless to say I made a lot of selfish people mad when I refused them a listing, but was not about to lower my standard for anyone for any amount nor any reason.

            I also provided interviews with already established entertainers such as Ray Stevens and Joe Bob Briggs (comedian/actor/entertainment writer) and those on my list who had the most promise like Renee Olstead.  This was; The Road House Café

            Okay - let me set the record straight. YES, my foot hurts and I don't mind telling anyone this Phlebitis (if thats what it really is) is painful. Some of you may recall a posting I made some few weeks ago about my possible Athletes feet - citing the burning sensation with the skin of my feet - some of you made suggestions about dealing with it.

            Okay - I don't have athletes feet - it was this phlebitis making its presence known and I should have gone to the doctor at that time and avoid this painful situation. If you get burning sensations in your feet or know someone who has - GO TO THE DOCTOR! and don't be a procrastinator like me.

 

            Okay - I started out attempting to explain my cry babying. I hate cry babying. In fact I think it has humor value if used properly and maybe (most likely) haven't pulled off the humor angle with the right tact, but the carrying on, the woe-is-me of it all trying to be funny helps in some small way to deal with this hoiting. And yup - my foot is still swelled up like a feetball, hurts and burns. HAH! See!? I slipped that crybabiness in. This whole ordeal is a character builder - trust me.

 

CHANGE OF SUBJECT:

            Scott's recent blog entry (a must read - so read it) was an interesting one which has fired me up to cover my own intellectualism in my microcosmic family (consisting of daughter and myself).

            There were times my daughter in her formative years at home, tried to initiate intellectual conversations with me.  Now, for whatever reason - having that kind of conversation with my daughter just wasn't working. Fact is I only do intellectualisms on almost rare occasions, kind of like my drawing and painting - I have to be in the mood before I can engage it. It's art if applied properly..., and I like to use a mustard green poltice... uhm - whatever.

            To me, the Three Stooges are intellectuals. No.., really.  Think about it. The genius that went into their work, the gags (stunts) and special effects for that time period - sheer genius. And they pulled off those laughs without without uttering a word of profanity. You just got to admire that tact.

            Daughter was as I recall disappointed - and at times perhaps resigned herself to designating her old dad as a socially hopeless moron.  Which is good!  I had this rule. Never show the kid all you got. Keep the young ones guessing. Right when they think they have you figured out - you always have a surprise for them.  King of the hill, baby! King of the hill.

 

            Not to worry.  I'm certain you are as sick of hearing about my "Latin Flea Bite Disease" (Phlebitis [flee-bite-is] ) as I am. So I will not mention my foot at all in this entry. Not at all. I mean, if I hear about my latin flea bite again, I'll go stark raving mad! Mad! Mad, I say.

            For example;  I would not bother you with details of when I first get up and lower my foot from the bed, of the pain that follows as blood rushes down into the foot.  Nor would I mention about my early morning lack of balance and nearly falling several times using both crutches. Nope - I will spare you all such details.

            And to think, you came to my blog with dread, thinking I was going to crybaby more about my foot.  What foot? I don't know what you're talking about! See - you feared for naught.

 

FORTUNE COOKIES YOU DON'T WANT TO SEE...,

-- - - what Fortune cookie would you not want to see?

            One of my favorite quotes comes from Clint Eastwood in the Gauntlet; "Nag, nag, nag."  And I've used it successfully to lighten tension between an irate woman and myself when I wrongfully (realized after the fact) jumped her husband's goat over a matter I should have just stayed out of.   Relax P.E.T.A. people - it was a figurative goat only elsewise the verbal abuse would have left it bleeding from the ears.   So now is my turn to Nag, on two different subjects.

 

            I have to go back to QUACK Dr, as I cant get anyone else to see me soon enough. My foot it seems has been behaving most odd over the last week or so.  About 4 days ago I woke up with my foot killing me, like it was broken.  I didn't trip on anything, didn't get struck or stumped on nothing. I just woke up and there it was.

            As the day progressed the pain went away and I could walk as good as ever. That is until the day before yesterday (?) when once again I woke up to an extremely painful foot. Feels like its broken. Anyway - same story. No reason for it, no bruising - just a slight, barely noticeable swelling or puffiness.   As the day progressed it was better. The next morning, same thing, except it kept a slight presence of pain being the differentiator.

            This morning I uhm.., well ... let me quote the famous dwarf, Tattoo, from Fantasy Island.., "The pain, boss! The pain!"  And it do hurt. So unless I die from the pain (fat chance) I'll be seeing a doctor about this new problem on Friday. The pain runs along the top side of foot, running roughly along the inside side behind the big-toe knuckle up just below the ankle bone, not the arches - I might add

 

            Nag session number two is it seems some uneducated duder, tends to think if you don't have dark skin, you are not Native American.  I don't know why that offends me but it do.  Yeah I have mixed blood but I'm about 1/4 Cherokee and while I don't have the high cheek bones (or do i?) or dark skin nor do I have feathers growing out of my scalp - the Native American Indian blood still flows through these veins just the same.  This person probably just has a racist attitude toward White people - maybe thats his problem. Well.., yeah.., I'm still offended.

            But then among the full and half blood Native Americans there is a split; Those who accept Heinz 57's like myself and then there are  those who insist recognition of full blood only.  What's to do. Nothing of course. But you know what? I said it before - when you add all my known bloodlines together with potential unknown ones - I become - Liquorice American. So there you have it!  Cherokee, Scottish, English and ??? - and therefore I am..., [insert dramatic musical overture] ... Liquorice American!

 

            Having said that - YES - I am still on hiatus. What you are reading is a hiccup. I am not here.  I'm in pain. And I'm looking for a cleaning service brave enough to lift the unholy, indescribable debris in my 70s shag carpet, left there by unknown revelers.  For the Indian lovers - there is no Cherokee word for "goodbye". The closest word there is means, "Until we meet again".  Unfortunately, I don't know what that word is.  And I like that. Never having to say, goodbye. Unless someone keeps making me mad - then I think I can find that "goodbye" word real appealing, real fast.

 

Parting FYI - to those partially blooded Native Americans like me - save yourself some embarrassment and never tell full bloods that your great or great great great grandmother was an Indian Princess.  That was an 1800s written by a white man's dime novel misconception. There were no Indian princesses nor princes, no matter what you've been told or assumed. Except in the poetic sense of course.  You've just been educated - drop money in bucket on the way out.  I'm raising funds to hire Abby and Ssprite to hunt the, scoundrel Indian/White man hater, down like a duck and thrash him like a.., like a.., whatever gets thrashed.  Thank you.