The Clay Edwards Show

Friday’s Clay Edwards Show, with Creston Birch in studio and Shaun Yurtkuran back for hour two. Weather’s coming, the culture riders are still in the comments, and Jackson’s usual suspects are still trying to run the clock.
Clay opens on hunkering-down season and a Facebook post tying Hurricane Asai to “justice for Nolan Wells” in Ocean Springs. From there it’s the morning rant: secondary accounts, comment-section energy, and why matching somebody’s tone is not the same thing as saying the word they keep begging you to say. Screenshot first. They delete after you answer.
Nolan Wells stays on the table. The cause-of-death wording does not mean what the truthers want it to mean. Sarah Fields is doing real work calling out the liars, then got sideways when Clay beat her to the Crump / phone story by a couple hours. Clay walks back the cocaine claim that came through Officer Tatum: it did not make the toxicology, and he’s fine being wrong on that one. He’d rather it was a tragic accident than a murder or a drug death. The people who got cease-and-desists and doubled down anyway are about to meet the lawsuit. Ben Crump is not coming to save them. Free speech covers you from the government. It does not cover you from the people you lied about.
Pops Around the Corner was on fire overnight. No real update yet. Clay wants one.
Shaun joins for the Lumumba sentencing delay. The motion to continue is going under seal, which reads less like a calendar problem and more like cooperation still being built. Clay and Shaun run the low-hanging fruit: city contracts, the old garbage deal, the campaign-donor overlap, and who should be sleeping light if the FBI is still pulling threads. Shaun’s guess is he’s already in on the deal and looking for more to trade. Clay’s joke is he doesn’t want to miss football. Neither of them buys that he’s a fan.
Belhaven bar talk: Finian’s still isn’t open. September ’24 close, bought the next year, December, St. Patrick’s, August 15, all come and gone. Construction isn’t finished, the outdoor stage is butting up against houses, and the neighborhood rumor is they’re building it to sell. Clay’s not bashing it. He’s surprised anybody’s investing in another Fondren/Belhaven bar at all, which says more about the last eighteen months than the delay does.
Capitol Police closes it. CJ LeMasters is still floating the line that the drop isn’t theirs. Shaun’s lived in Belhaven long enough to call that nonsense: carjackings, porch robberies, kids casing houses, a different feel now. The perimeter is real. They know where not to go, same as they knew not to cross the river or County Line. Presence works. Hundred-year enhancements and school-zone add-ons do not, because the people doing it are not reading the statute. They’re watching the blue lights. Creston and Shaun both land on the same answer they’ve heard a thousand times after a chase: didn’t want to go to jail today.
Lumumba, meanwhile, is trying to push his own jail date. Clay’s advice, aimed at himself as much as anybody: if you already know you’re going, quit stretching it. The clock doesn’t start until you do.

Bourbon Diplomacy this week is two Elijah Craigs, both cleared with Brad at 042 Wine and Spirits before they ever hit the air. Clay sent the list. Brad’s answer was pick whichever ones you want. Seven of each on the shelf. That’s the whole allocation, so the challenge to the audience is simple: go clean them out over the next three days.
First bottle is the Elijah Craig Toasted Barrel, 94 proof, single barrel. They finish it in one more barrel after the first aging, toasted, which pulls a sweeter set of notes. Creston’s read is roasted marshmallow over a campfire. Sweet, a little lower proof, built for sipping, and better once the weather finally turns. Color runs darker depending on the barrel. Tasting notes are whatever it reminds you of. If yours doesn’t match his, you’re not wrong.
Second is the Elijah Craig Barrel Proof. That’s what comes out of the barrel, so the proof is higher and the color in the photo ran a little blonder, lighting or barrel, take your pick. It drops three times a year, an A, a B, and a C, roughly March, May, and September. September should be the one on the shelf, maybe an early bottle mixed in. Front label has the proof and the code. Look for A, B, or C, and a year ending in 25 or 26. Single barrel, so that barrel tastes like that barrel. Creston puts it around 80 to 90 depending on the store. Clay doesn’t quote a hard price on purpose. Five bucks either way isn’t the problem. If five bucks is the deal breaker, the bottle isn’t what you can’t afford.
Rule of thumb from the segment: want the sweeter, lower-proof sip, get the 94 toasted. Want the hotter, limited single barrel, get the barrel proof. Both are the pick.
042 Wine and Spirits, Highway 80 in Crossgates, Brandon, next to Sonny’s in the little strip center. If the names don’t stick, the display will. It’ll be marked Clay Edwards Show pick of the week. Seven and seven. Clay wants the call from Brad on Saturday or Monday that they’re gone. That’s the activation. Collectors get a bonus: if they’re sitting on barrel-proof Elijah Craig, there’s a decent chance the batch you’re hunting is already in the building.
Creston detoured into Four Roses yeast codes and the private-barrel bottle he emptied as chest medicine during a two-week cold, because the good cough syrup never got written. Alcohol’s been medicine longer than it’s been a hobby. Clay doesn’t drink enough of this stuff to play connoisseur and said so. He’ll probably grab one anyway. Hard to tell the audience to show up for a sponsor and then not show up yourself.

Pelahatchie PD calls back on the missing-dogs story. Lieutenant Morgan’s version: basic facts hold, she followed the cops instead of riding with them, the chief wasn’t the one who brought the owner, an officer got reprimanded for the Facebook post, and both sides heard “we” differently. Dogs are still property. No good deed, both directions.
 

Clay wore the BC Rich shirt on purpose. Saturday night he was up late doing what he does now, scrolling guitars he was not about to buy, and landed on the Masters of Shred interview with the guy who bought the company. BC Rich had gone from an ’80s USA shred icon to a cheap Chinese starter brand. New owner’s pitch was the reverse: no filter, no nonsense, call it what it turned into, build it back. Everybody on camera had the same plain black logo tee. Clay likes a black T-shirt. He ordered one.
In the shipper-notes box, five or six Andy Gators deep at 2 a.m., girlfriend asleep, he threw a Hail Mary. Saw the interview. Enjoyed it. BC Rich was on the wall as a kid. Owned a couple over the years. Has a radio show. Gonna wear the shirt on the stream. He wasn’t asking for anything. He figured it would die in a warehouse auto-reply.
Sunday, during football, the reply came back. Not a bot. Not an assistant. Dan Bill Xavier, the CEO, the guy who put the investors together and bought the brand. Every point Clay made got its own paragraph. You can tell when something’s written by AI. This wasn’t. They went back and forth for hours. Guitars, the company, the rebuild.
The Mississippi part is the one that recalibrated him. Bill lived in Meridian for six years. He was in the building during Eddie Van Halen’s run with Peavey and the 5150 brand. When that deal ended around ’04, the line moved to Fender. Fender kept the technology, as they should. EVH and 5150 live there now. Bill was in artist relations while Eddie was still Eddie. Clay’s version of the résumé may be a little loose. He’s doing the homework before the interview. The point stands. The guy who owns one of the most iconic rock-guitar brands of the ’80s spent six years in Mississippi and had a hand in the Van Halen years.
CC DeVille and half the hair-metal wall played BC Rich. Clay grew up on the posters. He was buying a $25 shirt. The CEO answered like he was hand-building a $6,000 guitar.
That’s the segment. Not a gear review. A customer-service story from a guy who sells for a living. Clay’s spent real money on guitars lately. None of those sellers sent a thank-you. The $25 shirt did. If it ever comes down to a coin toss between a BC Rich and something else, everything else equal, he takes the BC Rich. Personal reply, and a company that still answers the customer after the sale.
He wasn’t fishing for a guest. Closed mouths don’t get fed anyway. He offered. Bill reached back the next day and said yes. Date’s still being worked, hopefully next week. Highs, lows, the future of the brand, Meridian, Peavey, Eddie.
The closer is for anybody in sales, including the car guys who hate the $100 mini. That customer works you the hardest for the least profit, then goes home to friends, family, and a review that laps the truth. Treat the small ticket like it’s the house note. Sometimes it is. Sometimes the CEO of an international guitar company writes you back on a Sunday because you bought a T-shirt and told the truth in the notes box.

A texter hit the textline claiming the show had gone from FAFO to fluff, rabbit holes getting deeper, and asked what the hell was soft about the first hour. Clay took it personal.
He walked the accusation back through the morning. First hour was the JSU march for Nolan Wells, Tasia Fortune, and Cohen Wiley, then the swap: same signs, same “we want to feel safe” copy, white students at Ole Miss, “white and proud,” free Derek Chauvin, Charlie Kirk, Rittenhouse was right. WAPT would not have covered that as students expressing themselves. That’s the bit. It’s only racist if white people say it. Forty-nine years of bending the knee to “lived experience,” then Trump down the escalator and a chunk of the country finally saying they don’t believe you. Not fluff. The old show.
Then Jackson Underground’s transgender fight night. Amateur boxing, a dress, blue jeans, headgear, a broken nose, hashtag JXNMS. Clay did the play-by-play because Instagram is useless on a screen. Respect for getting in the ring. No respect for the pronoun paperwork around a biological man and a biological woman throwing hands. He offered to sponsor a fighter if one of them walks out in an FAFO shirt. Also not fluff.
The BC Rich story came after the text, so it doesn’t count toward the charge. Twenty-five-dollar shirt, 2 a.m. note, CEO wrote back. Fine. Doesn’t launder the first hour.
Clay’s closer to the texter: if the racial double standard and underground trans boxing still read as soft, say what you actually want. He isn’t saying the n-word to earn the listen. He did hit Trump tearing a hole in the space-time continuum, the Nolan Wells comment, and the FBI already having looked. Then he said the quiet part at volume. Christine Wells Wansley is a piece of crap who has all but started a race war, Ben Crump can burn, she should be sued for the lies, and AOC should be sued for calling the Cornell case a gang rape. They parked that for Pelahatchie and came back to it later.
Verdict from the host chair: today was the greatest hits. The fluff charge doesn’t survive the first hour. If it still feels soft, the text line is open. Tell him what to talk about.

Clay discovers Jackson Underground’s transgender fight night on Instagram. Amateur boxing, a dress, blue jeans, a broken nose, and Clay doing Joe Rogan play-by-play because Instagram is a terrible place to show anybody anything. Respect for anybody willing to get punched in the face. No respect for the pronoun cosplay around it.

Thursday’s show opens on the “positive solutions” crowd and a Jackson State march honoring Nolan Wells, Tasia Fortune, and Cohen Wiley. Clay and Creston run the obvious swap: same signs, same framing, white students at Ole Miss, and the coverage would not be a feel-good campus story. From there it’s the old game — it’s only racist if white people say it — Trump coming down the escalator and breaking the cosign, and a low-info Klan-photo that still gets treated like evidence.

Thursday’s show opens on the “positive solutions” crowd and a Jackson State march honoring Nolan Wells, Tasia Fortune, and Cohen Wiley. Clay and Creston run the obvious swap: same signs, same framing, white students at Ole Miss, and the coverage would not be a feel-good campus story. From there it’s the old game — it’s only racist if white people say it — Trump coming down the escalator and breaking the cosign, and a low-info Klan-photo that still gets treated like evidence.
Then Jackson Underground’s transgender fight night. Amateur boxing, a dress, blue jeans, a broken nose, and Clay doing Joe Rogan play-by-play because Instagram is a terrible place to show anybody anything. Respect for anybody willing to get punched in the face. No respect for the pronoun cosplay around it.
Creston wears the method behind the BC Rich shirt. A $25 order, a Hail Mary note at 2 a.m., and a real reply from CEO Dan Bill Xavier — Mississippi time, Eddie Van Halen / Peavey years, and a reminder that the $100 mini can still pay the note or cost you the job. He’s agreed to come on the show.
Pelahatchie PD calls back on the missing-dogs story. Lieutenant Morgan’s version: basic facts hold, she followed the cops instead of riding with them, the chief wasn’t the one who brought the owner, an officer got reprimanded for the Facebook post, and both sides heard “we” differently. Dogs are still property. No good deed, both directions.
Zach Servis closes on Benny Foster, the independent running at Bennie Thompson in MS-02. Not a spoiler pitch — 227,000 registered voters sat out 2024 while Thompson took about 177,000 and the Republican about 109,000. Tour dates at electbennyfoster.com. A texter says the show went from FAFO to fluff. Clay disagrees. Tomorrow is football Friday and FAFO Friday.

Hour two is the FAFO chapter of the Nolan Wells defamation suits. Tyler Cox and Ed Paltzik file on Jennifer Sushka (J Meghan), DeMarcus Hughes (Boogie Lowdown), Sandra Butler, Tameka Lasha Birch, Isaiah Kelvin Harris, and the big one: Trent Hall, aka Trent Out Loud, in federal court out of Canada. Keyboard warriors, industrial-scale libel, and an open invite to come get served in Mississippi. Clay hangs the belt on him anyway.

Hour one is the Rankin County dog mess. A woman named Carly pulls a pit and a Shih Tzu mix out of the road in Pelahatchie, posts them, then finds the owner, TeeDy WMS, already has an animal-cruelty case: a neighborhood cat trapped, held, and filmed getting mauled on Facebook Live in 2024. Misdemeanor plea. $500 fine. Suspended sentence. A Pelahatchie officer shows up at Carly’s county house on a personal cell, the chief gets on the phone about a warrant, and the owner is brought to the door. She takes the pit and offers to leave the other one. Carly calls in with the timeline, the cameras, and the part that actually bothers Clay: a convicted animal abuser now knows where the kids live. Creston stays on the property-law side. Clay stays on the “you don’t escort that woman to somebody’s house” side.