Now typically I don’t like to court controversy on my blog. I try not to push buttons. I like to keep it happy, light, upbeat – lo, even devil-may-care-ish – around here.

But every once in awhile, we have to tackle some tough topics. There’s just no avoiding it.

Which is why I need to confess something to you.

[sighing deeply]

A few months ago, after seeing the redesign of Southern Living magazine – a redesign that can only be described as displeasing and disconcerting and UNNECESSARY – I decided that I would not renew my subscription.

[sighing deeply]

Yes. Yes I did. Y’all may need to gather around me for a season of prayer.

And while I certainly realize that deciding not to renew a subscription because I no longer care for the look and feel of a magazine pretty much smacks of pure, unadulterated crazy, I just need to emphasize that THEY CHANGED THEIR PAPER AND THEIR BINDING, Y’ALL.*

Also: I LOVED THEIR PAPER AND THEIR BINDING.

In fact, I considered the old Southern Living as part of my heritage as a Southern girl. Those glossy covers looked great on my coffee table; the old pages were oh-so-durable if you needed to tear out a recipe or a decorating idea.

But then? SL WENT AND RURNT IT ALL. I’m telling you: that new thin paper – coupled with the new fonts and new layout for recipes – basically makes me want to claw all the skin off of my body with some very dull metal talons.

And so, when I realized that the changes were permanent, when I realized that my favorite magazine of all time was essentially something that looked like Generic Periodical Product (seriously. go to a bookstore. look at the magazine display. see if SL stands out from the crowd anymore.), I decided not to renew.

I mean, sometimes a girl just has to take a stand on principle.

(You might say that I had a somewhat strong reaction to the Southern Living redesign.)

(Clearly I am quite the social activist. Next thing you know I’ll be leading some sort of protest at the SL headquarters.)

And please don’t try to tell me that the new design is more environmentally-friendly. That’s just not possible – because quite frankly I don’t know a Southern woman in her right mind who has EVER thrown away an issue of the old Southern Living. In fact, I could go to Martha’s house right this second and find the July 1980 issue, and then Martha would tell me how she tried that blueberry cobbler recipe but not that tomato tart recipe, because after all there was a recipe in the November 1977 issue for a different tomato tart that is FABULOUS, JUST FABULOUS.

So all that to say: landfills are overflowing with many things, but old issues of Southern Living are not among them.

A few days ago I was at a little news stand in the airport, looking for something to read on a flight, and in a fit of forgiveness and mercy I decided to give Southern Living another chance. I shelled out the five dollars and some-odd cents for a copy of the September issue, and after reading it from cover to cover, I kept coming back to a single, sustaining thought: Well, that settles it. I totally stand by my initial reaction. Bring out the dull metal talons. Again.

I just don’t like it, y’all. It used to be such a treat to get the latest issue in the mail, but now Southern Living feels like something I might flip through in a doctor’s waiting room if I was hard-pressed for reading material.

And this saddens me. In ways you cannot even imagine.

Now I realize that in the grand scheme of things this is no big deal. I realize that my SL disappointment errs waaaaaay on the side of trivial. But nonetheless, I’m curious: since a lot of the readers here are Southern, I’d love to know what YOU think about Southern Living in its present state.

New and improved? Or not?

(By the way, if you haven’t even noticed that SL has been redesigned, this discussion may be a little too OCD for you.)

(A thousand apologies.)

(Thank you for being so patient with my crazy.)

(Now do have a lovely day.)

* – Edited to add: I stand corrected about the paper. Oh yes I do. It feels flimsier because the new pages are wider. But the paper is the same.

…we’ve got us a little caption contest goin’ on.

…who lives in the Birmingham, Alabama area, will you leave me a comment? I’ve potentially got something up my sleeve that’ll happen mid-October-ish, and I need to send y’all an email about it.

And for the sake geographical boundaries, let’s define “Birmingham area” as within thirty miles of downtown.

I’m going to close these comments around 9 central time tonight because I need to send out the email ASAP, so if you leave a comment, you should have an email from me shortly after comments close.

And even if you know that I know you live around these parts, leave a comment anyway. I don’t want to leave out anybody.

Thanks, y’all!

p.s. This post is going to self-destruct at approximately 9:01 pm. :-)

So right now I’m in Las Vegas, where according to my best (finely-honed) temperature estimation it’s a crisp and refreshing 102 degrees. This kind of heat just makes me want to head out for a nice, long run while wearing a coordinated (and lined!) windsuit-type ensemble.

It’s actually a beautiful day out here, made even better by the fact that my sweet friend Big Mama is with me. We’re here for a Lifeway women’s event (the last Deeper Still of the year) and ready to get us a FRESH WORD tonight, amen.

But the real reason I’m writing this post is to tell you that I just had a hair-related crisis-of-faith. Last night I was overcome by a need to freshen up my roots and cover up my gray, and in a moment of weakness I packed a little something extra in my suitcase:

Oh yes. Oh yes I did.

So just a minute ago I slipped it out from underneath the clothes in my suitcase, and Melanie raised her eyebrows at me like, “SISTER, YOU’D BETTER STEP BACK.” I tried to explain to her that in addition to the gray I have some ROOT ISHAHS, but she would have nothing to do with my excuses. She refused to enable me. She said, “But what if it goes wrong? What if your hair turns some strange color? I mean, I would no doubt appreciate the blog fodder if something went awry, but I just don’t think you should do it. I think you should leave well enough alone.”

And then she glared at my root touch-up kit and rebuked it. In the strong name of Jesus.

I’m telling y’all: in difficult times, it is a deeply comforting to have a hair accountability partner.

We’ll be blogging as much as we can this weekend over at allaccess, so come by and see us if you get a chance. We’re hoping to put up some video tonight when we get back to the hotel.

Now if you’ll excuse me, my roots and I need to put on some make-up. Because I’m sure that make-up is going to look beautiful once I walk out into the burning desert sun.

Have a great weekend, everybody!

Now you may look at the picture below and think, “Wow. A cardboard mailing tube. And I should care because…?”

But if you’re a certain five year-old, you’d see that mailing tube, ask your daddy to cut the ends off of it, and then you’d christen ye olde mailing tube as “THE MOST! AWESOME! SUPER SLIDE! EVVVVVVVER!”

And see those Star Wars action figures off to the side of the picture? Super Slide casualties. Which is understandable, of course. The Super Slide is very tricky.

Now I certainly don’t wish bodily harm on the Stormtroopers. That would just be wrong. But I’m thinking that they’re gonna have to buck up, throw on an air cast, and brave the Super Slide again, because that sassy cardboard cylinder has provided HOURS of entertainment this week.

Hours.

In fact, I’m thinking of having it bronzed.

So. What’s the favorite non-toy toy in your house? Think it can go toe-to-toe with THE MOST AWESOME SUPER SLIDE EVVVVVVVER?

Holla back in the comments. I have a feeling I’m going to laugh my head off when I read them.