Belle Meade Plantation

by Liz Heather in


I think it's safe to say that this country should be fucking embarrassed by the fact that its plantations are considered "attractions." I recently went to one solely because I've always thought the idea of showcasing them as "museums" was appalling and I had questions as to what purpose they serve today. I was also curious as to how they would tell the history of such a place and if they would include every historically relevant detail (they didn't).

So I went - and of course, it went badly. I knew it would, but I didn't know quite the extent of it. 

First of all, there's a tour of the Belle Meade mansion. They take you on a detailed tour of the main house and go into full detail about the Harding family who lived there (who, by the way, had no significant impact on American history in any way that I could surmise) and the horses that they bred. AND THAT'S IT. THAT'S ALL SHE WROTE. There's literally no mention of any slaves or of anything that would hold the estate in a negative light. Oh, and there's a wine tasting inside the gift shop at the conclusion of the tour. 

...Is it just me or is that the whitest thing they could've put in that gift shop? What the fuck does wine have to do with a plantation? Other than the fact that it makes sense to bask in the delight of a glass of Chardonnay instead of questioning any of the "uncomfortableness" that the entire property is cloaked in.

Terrible things happened here. Human beings were treated barbarically. Why in the fuck does this place deserve any kind of notoriety? Especially when NOTHING IS SAID about what actually went on here. Even when questions about slavery were asked, there were no concise answers given. The woman leading the tour simply said she was only trained to discuss the grounds and the Harding family since there were "very limited records" in regards to slave conditions. I know I shouldn't be surprised/disgusted by that reasoning, but I was.

The whole estate should be condemned. I really don't see what anyone who visits Belle Meade is supposed to take away from the experience. If anything, it lessens what actually happened there in a way that's deplorable beyond measure.

I knew that going here would amount to a horrible day, but I didn't know how awful I would feel afterward. It felt gross to be in a crowd full of people who were talking about how beautiful the grounds were. How the interior of the bedrooms were so well maintained. And how it would be the perfect place to have a wedding (not even joking - someone said that and infact they do rent out the grounds for receptions, as sickening as that is). I hated myself for not knowing in advance that of course it would be like this. 

There's really nothing else to say about this place. 


The Charming Richard Lewis

by Liz Heather in ,


Have I ever mentioned how much I love Richard Lewis? Not just 'cause of Curb Your Enthusiasm - I've loved him since Once Upon A Crime. 

There's just something about him I've always liked. He was at Barnes & Noble recently promoting his new book and I was fortunate enough to meet this babe of a man. 

Myself, Richard Lewis & Carl Titolo

Not only was it such a treat to meet him, but I will literally treasure this inscription he wrote way more than is socially acceptable.

Eeeeeeeeeeeee!


The Heathers

by Liz Heather in ,


My parents had their 40th anniversary last month and I did NOTHING! Why? Not because I'm a terrible daughter (in my opinion), but moreso because I don't believe in celebrating other people's anniversaries. Am I only one who finds it weird? It's their day, let them celebrate it their way, without interference from anyone else. Maybe I'm abnormal, but it also seems like such an intimate and personal thing to celebrate, so why on earth would anyone ever be expected to horn in on that? I'm not opposed to expressing a simple "Happy Anniversary, guys" - but anything more than that I find odd.

In any case, 40 years is a crazy amazing amount of time to be with someone. And since I stayed out of their celebration, I thought I'd post some of my favourite photos of them here as a way of saying, "Yeah! Good work."

Lastly, my parents are the kind of parents everyone should be envious of. I know how lucky I am to be in this family and I'll forever understand that. Maybe I should apologize for how often I talk about my family, but, yeah, that ain't never gonna happen. 

(Also, if you haven't called your parents in the last few days, maybe give them a ring. You kind of owe them everything you have, so it bodes well to say a small "What's going on?" every now and then.)

With me, in Trinidad


The Man Who Is Dave Grohl

by Liz Heather in , ,


You know what's weird? You don't know how much I love Dave Grohl. This is the first time I'm mentioning him on the blog since its inception two years earlier, and that seems kind of fucked up to me. I used to adore this man. And it's not as though I don't anymore - it's more of a silent "Ahh yes. Dave Grohl" kind of feeling now. Just a buried love affair that once was. I don't want to get into too much detail about being in my late teens & early twenties and fully believing that I would marry this man. 

I mean, look at him.

And I was too young to like Nirvana when they were around, so I boarded the Grohl train in the early Foo Fighters years. They were at the first concert I went to (Summersault 2000) and that was when I fully knew how I felt. I mean, someone hurled a water bottle at his face and he casually caught it mid-air and then took a sip. Can you comprehend how cool that looked? 

In any case, does this post have a point? Not really. It just felt weird to write on here for so long and not mention his name. Oh, and also - if you're not in love with this man's voice after the acoustic version of Everlong, then you, my dear, are dead inside.

I don't get nuts when I see celebrities, but him and Martin Short are the only two people I think I would convulse at seeing in the flesh. 

All right, that's all.

Sidenote: Happy Birthday to one of the best humans I know, my brother Gary. You're in my top three of people I couldn't live without and I hope you're aware of how much I sing your praises to everyone I know. (And also, you kind of introduced me to the magic of Dave Grohl, so I kind of am in debt to you forever for that.) Thank you for being everything that you are. I love you enough to temporarily give up my Perfect Strangers collection.