Deeeeeeuuuuuuce

Posted on September 25, 2007 by Varg

deuce mcallister

A Requiem for Deuce McAllister

Deuce McAllister is my favorite Saint. No doubt about it. I always liked Morten Anderson but, when it comes to sheer heart, there is no one that comes close to Deuce. We all talk about last year’s playoff game against Philadelphia and his dragging what seemed like the entire Eagle defense and some of the guys on the bench into the end zone. People talk about that play a lot for good reason, it showed how bad he wanted it that year.

I’ve heard rumors about how injury may have limited his role in the Saints loss to Chicago the next week, and I have suspected perhaps it might have been what was limiting him so far this season. I do know when I heard, “McAllister slow to get up,” my heart sank like it was 2005 all over again.

I’d love to think there will be a future for Deuce here in New Orleans though I suspect Coach Payton might not cooperate given his history with veterans whom he thinks have outlasted their usefulness. The guys on the radio today were referring to Deuce’s second torn ACL as possibly career-ending. I’m not sure about that. I do know many teams may not want to take a chance on a 30 year-old RB with two stitched together knees, especially considering how stiff Deuce liked to play (see play mentioned above). I hope I’m wrong.

The thing we all should accept is how many running backs have had their careers cut short by injury, they are always the first to go due to all the literal and figurative heavy lifting they do during their careers.

I can at least be happy that Deuce was sharp enough to have a fall-back plan.

But I’d rather have him back here honestly. Get well soon Deuce.

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Rejoice!

I say that a lot. I sign many pieces with it. I do this because I believe our lives are a true happenstance. A brilliant occurence from nothingness. We are so rare. We are so unlikely. And simply being born isn’t enough. From there we must survive, endure. So each morning, after our Sun departs and is reborn again. Please, for the sake of your ancestors and the Universe in general, hoist that cup of joe up and say, “Rejoice.”

Ours is a soulful existence. No matter how many McMansions, polyester fabrics, auto-tunes, modified foods and social networks we surround ourselves with, we are all still native, passionate beings made of ancient matter. We are organic and we have soul.

Wood also has a warm, soulful quality. Wood has a memory. It retains smells, traumas, events. It even has a calendar. This is why I have chosen it as my medium, for its old soul. I like to think the wood in my work is in its third incarnation. First a tree, then a home and now art. If you have a room that needs a little soul, get a piece. A room can never have enough soul.

My inspiration and subject matter comes from many sources, among them: Humanism, old ballads, trickster tales, flora and fauna, science, myths and folklore, stringed instruments, brass bands, amber spirits, lady vocalists, general relativity and quantum mechanics. Some of my pieces are there just to make a short, simple statement about what’s important in life. Some are more diffuse and abstract in meaning. A personal drama, an enduring line from a poem or novel, a poignant song lyric, the legacy of an important person, a fleeting thought … these are the subjects of my art.

I use hearts often because they are a very abstract way of depicting the human soul without also employing the very subjective human form. The symbolic heart is an apt representation for a person’s experience and essence. A body can immediatly conjure happiness, sorrow, youth, age, anger, bliss. These emotions can get in the way. Sometimes it’s simply about the experience.

I am the son of a sailor and a social worker, the grandson of a gypsy, a dancer and a nurse. I spent my youth moving from port city to port city, watching a lot of road go by and reading World Book Encyclopedia. After my parents settled down on the Gulf Coast, I was a miscreant youth, destroying cars and taking the wrongs things too seriously and the right things not serious enough. Eventually I began replacing my imagination with experience.

I will use any salvaged wood but prefer swamp cypress and longleaf heartwood pine.

I despise waste. Particularly the waste of organic matter. Trees are magnificent. They were here before we arrived and they’ll be around after we are gone. I’m making an effort to save as much wood as possible. Creating art is fun too. But beyond communicating with folks, but beyond making money ad providing for myself, beyond rescuing flooded parts, beyond reveling in the ethereal aroma of heartpine that hasn’t seen the light of day in 400 years, beyond all that, I am trying to make a simple comment on waste.