FWIW I saw quite a bit of news coverage of Tibbets’ death, but I think covering that story was a lot harder for the media. Hard to put a “celebrating the life and achievements” spin on it, Tibbets himself shunned the spotlight and requested neither funeral nor marked gavestone, and then of course rhinestones are a lot more fun than icky atomic bombs.

Oh please. Porter was also known for having the biggest….feet…in Nashville. That’s quite a legacy to leave behind.

Porter helped put Nashville on the entertainment map, my friend. Now, whether or not that’s important to you is relative.

That’s right Sista. Porter was the Tommy Lee of country music.

Or in your case, Sista, the importance depends on your relatives.

Porter and Hank Snow…whose gonna fill their…drawers.

I’d say that Porter’s importance depends on his having written a couple of songs that became American standards so fast that everyone now thinks they’re ancient, dragging country music into the concept album age, providing work for the rhinestone makers of the world, and providing a constant public face for the Grand Ole Opry (which is an important enough local institution for both historical and financial reasons that it makes sense that his funeral would be broadcast). You know those tourist dollars we like here? Porter is to thank for many of them. The fact that he was also a, um, mentor to Dolly Parton is just gravy. As is what Sista keeps talking about. I keep asking her for pictures, but she won’t oblige.

Fine, next time we’ll drop 12″ cocks and rhinestones on the Japanese.

Indeed, I’ve heard that the size of Porter’s schmeckle is was legendary.

Why, Sarcastro? They’ll just make them smaller…

They’ll just make them smaller…

Now THAT was hysterical!

Alright, I’ll play.

I thought the Japanese already had smaller ones.

As for Porter, I heard tell that there were as many young men as young ladies who could testify to his size.

That’s what you call being In Demand, Sarcastro.

NM-I’ve never seen it with my own eyes. If’n I had a picture, I’d gladly oblige.

That’s what you call being In Demand, Sarcastro.

*SNORK*

Sista, that was comedy genius, right there.

That’s not a schmeckle.

That’s a schmuckalovich.

http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=schmuckalovich

Actually, it’s a schmuck. No “el” about it.

Smiff wins the internet! Holy cow. My hat’s off to her.

What hath God wrought?

Schmekel rises again.

And I didn’t even bring it up by that name this time. I just implied.

Schmekel rises again.

I’m sure at Porter’s age the ‘ol schmekel probably needed the little blue pill to rise again…

I thought she was referring to me and my “tragic 8 ball”.

Little blue pill? Dude needed a small crane from what I hear…

Wasn’t Porter’s nickname “The Horse?”

Just saying

No, my bad. It was “The Hammer.”

Silly me.