The Pollening is upon us, abandon all hope

Grit your teeth — it's easy, the air is full of pollen — and grind through spring's nastiest annual ritual.

Mar 30, 2025

Hey friends! I’ve got a TV show and (soon) a book jout in the world, and I’d love for you to check them out. Watch “Home Turn,” my show with NASCAR Studios, right here. And prepare for the arrival of IRON IN THE BLOOD, the story of the Alabama-Auburn rivalry, dropping Aug. 26. More details here, pre-order below.

Pre-order IRON IN THE BLOOD here

There are so many natural wonders of the South that enchant and inspire me. The scent of Alabama pines in autumn, the feel of a breeze swirling in off the Gulf of Mexico, the sight of clouds wrapping the Appalachians in a quilt of fog. Hell, I even like the sweat-under-your-eyeballs heat of a Georgia August. I appreciate almost everything about the South’s natural splendor.

Everything but the pollen, that is. Pollen? You can go straight to hell.

This past weekend, we in Atlanta endured the annual debacle known as The Pollening, a choking yellow torrent that covers cars, blankets streets, and sabotages immune systems. A lemon-yellow sandstorm, The Pollening blanketed Atlanta to a record-setting degree:

Is that bad? That seems bad, but I have no idea what’s being measured here. But whatever that 14,801 is — pollen grains, pollen microbes, pollen-stuffed nostrils or pollen-swollen eyes — there’s a hell of a lot of it.

So, look. Before we go any further — you know what pollen is, in a biological sense, right? I mean, it’s basically a giant yellow tide of [colloquial term censored to prevent mass unsubscribes]. Seriously, it’s like if every plant in the world suddenly started [metaphoric act also censored, same reason] into the atmosphere. Reminds me of this one time in college, when we watched someone’s old nasty videotape that showed [wow, I might even unsubscribe from myself for this one] and we all laughed so hard we damn near puked.

Anyway. Best not to think too much about the scientific truth behind The Pollening. Just endure it and wait for the rain … because if there’s one benefit to The Pollening, it’s that you can wash it right off with a hose or a gentle spring shower. Usually.

Once, when I was a young and very stupid homeowner, I decided to stain my deck about 24 hours before The Pollening began. I dutifully slathered linseed oil — which, if you’ve never used it, becomes incredibly sticky as it dries — on my deck, only to watch in horror as drifts of pollen hit the lovely auburn-hued planks and stuck as firmly as if they’d been superglued in place. It took literal years to get the last of that sticky yellow gunk off my deck.

I know there are elemental metaphors at work with The Pollening, that the Dread Yellow Plague symbolizes rebirth, or necessary adversity, or natural forces beyond our control, or whatever big-picture English-major poetics you want to slap on Mother Nature making a goddamn mess all over everything. Me, I’ll grit my way through The Pollening and clean it all up in a few days.

Because when The Pollening hits, it means spring is here once and for all … and from there, it’s only a few short weeks to Lake Beer, River Beer and Beach Beer season. Sing hallelujah!

Song of the Week: “Skyscraper,” The War and Treaty

We’re big fans of The War and Treaty around here, and not just because the husband-and-wife duo helped soundtrack our show “Home Turn” with its signature song, the soulful and jaunty “Florida.” This one, off their new album, is more of their gospel-meets-Nashville sound, a hell of a kiss-off tune: “I know I gotta lose some weight, so I’m starting with you.” Great stuff, play it loud.

Find “Skyscraper” and everything else we’ve recommended on the official Spotify Flashlight & A Biscuit playlist, right here:

Would you eat it: The Pretzel Jawn

In honor of our reigning Super Bowl champions, here’s a beast of a pretzel that was served at Eagles playoff games. The Pretzel Jawn comes with porter cheese sauce, green mustard sauce, and bourbon vanilla brown sugar butter … hopefully in larger quantities than the little smears depicted there on that plank. (Plank not included, we assume.) This beast will set you back $20, and will linger in your belly deep into the offseason. Thus we ask …

Words I have written elsewhere this week

The five-week stretch from the Super Bowl to March Madness is what passes for calm for me on the sports calendar, so we’re back at it now. Here’s what I wrote over at Yahoo Sports these last few days: