I spent the Gustav- Hanna time traveling back and forth over the Mason- Dixon line. It was quite a revelation. Last time I traveled to TN and GA by car it was in 1993 and the boys in the South were thrilled with AK – TN quartet in the White House. Now it is a very different story.
Food is bad. Connecticut is notorious for its bad food but at least it is not pretentious. That is they do not advertise in New England that water/milk concentrate jelly filled with bubble gum as the best clam chowder to the south of Danbury or that piece of over-frosted salmonella as an Omelet of the Century. In the South they do. Two sticks with something undercooked between them are called The King of the barbeque ribs. Maybe they mean Elvis in his last years? A strange yellow goop with gummy pieces scattered over the surface is called escargot. As for omelet I wanted to suggest to call it ‘Omelet McCain’ but that would sound too political. It did look like it survived the Hanoi Hilton really. Omelet for a President, that’s what I say!
Is it me or Cracker Barrel had really changed since 1993? Those dusty walls, those untidy floors, those unfortunate cheap souvenirs, all made in China and Pakistan. And the customers, my God! Where did they get so many fatsos! Most of the people could not fit in one chair! The cider was the same as before, thank God. Otherwise the food was really lousy. And for the twice as big a price obviously, no questions asked.
Some things are really painful. What had they done with their coffee? OK, I know that coffee is poisonous in New England where I live but I was craving that aromatic brew of the old- fashioned Confederacy. Right under the defiant confederate flag I took a gulp and realized that the Northern aggression had been accomplished- that was a direct line from the CT sewer. It even smelled that way. I should have preserved a full cup as a souvenir from the Civil War. Together with greasy napkins, dirty toilets and unbelievably untidy rest areas. The North is marching on, folks and Tennessee now has a New York stench. Welcome to the United We Stink.
In all fairness there are still some specifically southern aspects a stranger should appreciate. Like dungarees, shorts and overalls. The further you are from the current Hillary Clinton's State and closer you are to the swamps she is from the higher is the percentage of men in those les vetements, pardon my Cajun. Their asses and their legs are amazing. I should recommend Dr. Dobson to introduce the course of watching the parade of those legs into his rehabilitation program for the allegedly recovering homosexuals. After one lookup I guarantee that they all will go straight. And then they are up for the bitter disappointment: the female legs in those shorts are by far not that different from the male ones. Dungarees are at least decent but boy, are they dirty! It is like the whole issue of the Confederacy was about keeping that dirt intact.
The accent is still there. Thus the ugly anti- Obama TV message about him being ready to ‘tax and spend’ sounds like, ‘OlabamataxingspendingIamJohnMcCainand Iapprovethismess…. age.’
BTW, why are those states called Red? They are Beige if I ever saw one. Those hats are beige and those faces are beige (except for the Mexicans). There was this little town in VA where we spent a night. Seemed like directly from the Howling series. All beige and gray.
Southern hospitality is terrific if only they had not been asking for your ID all the time. It is as if they all work in the Homeland Security part-time. This brings me to the conclusion: we do need a universal Real ID. Only it should be customized. I want mine to have Mark Twain’s house on it with the words around it ‘The Connecticut Russian Jew’ printed in red. Just to keep the records straight. Funny thing- none of those clerks have any right to ask for any ID but they still ask for it in that innocent voice of theirs as if it is just a matter of fact. The only place my ID was not asked for was a Liquor Store. Most likely my huge purchase of whisky proved who I was.
Our goal was to visit the Ruby Falls in Chattanooga and also the Cumberland caverns in McMinnville. The latter are smaller but far more wild. We had a magnificent tour. While climbing up after the guide at the comfortable 56F and 99% humidity I contemplated that it should be a great idea to have the party conventions in those caves. Just seal the bastards until they nominate the candidate. No TV, no food except for the crickets, no water other than the one from the special hose. And forbid them to pollute the cave. Let them read those historical graffiti (one was from the Y1895!). And if they stay too long- turn off the lights. The taxpayer’s money would be saved.
Under the magnificent chandelier from Brooklyn we sat in that cave and then they gave us some kind of a biblical presentation. I especially liked that part when God looked at his creations and 'said that it was good’. I sincerely doubt if He would say that now. Most likely he would trumpet, ’What’s the f&%k is going on!’
I doubt if God would approve those magnificent crosses everywhere. The architecture of the Pentecostal Churches is dull to say the least but the crosses are huge. Looks like they could be used for many different purposes: to worship, to hang someone, to crucify, to put on signs, to serve as lighting rods, to show the directions, to have picnics under, to make family photos. I would argue that those crosses had lost their Christian meaning and can now be considered as some kind of empty totem polls ready for the carved stories to be told. No, God certainly had nothing to do with them. Those Churches did seem odd like those in the Howling series, once again, those that served for the transformation of the community to werewolves under the full moon. I was happy there was no full moon at that time.
Ruby Falls cave is on the Lookout Mountain, the place of one of the bloodiest battles of the Civil War. About 34000 people lost their lives and those were the young lives. There is the only monument honoring the soldiers of both sides there in the Battle Park. And lo and behold- there was Dick Cheney there sucking some old bones before his trip to Azerbaijan to raise more mischief. Hey, they should bring him to the Rock City and leave his stuck in the Needle Passage. Heeerie stuck is Dick Cheney, the Vampire of the Century. No such luck though. As I said, Southern hospitality is terrific. We instead went to the Rock City ourselves, made a great panoramic photo from the Seven States point and also took a ride on the Inclined Railway. Poor General Grant- he had to go up on foot. There were no fatsos at that time, that’s for sure.
You have to be grateful to the caverns for one thing: there is no TV there and you are spared from the ‘Hurricane Sarah’ spin. OMG! I have nothing against Sarah Palin. She is the prettiest politician I have seen so far from all the view angles but how many times do I have to hear that Hurricane Sarah shallow cliché? It is usually followed by this incredible statement, “We have to see if the Democratic levees will withstand the Sarah’s fury”. Wow, what a creativity! What a sexy metaphor! I feel the punch already. Truly, we could argue, for instance that the woman who already named her daughter for a dingy brew-drenched city in England might not really appreciate to be associated with a destructive force. Also, we could for instance use the metaphor like ‘Iceberg Sarah’ at which the Democratic Titanic will meet her peril. That would be juicy. On the other hand, I can anticipate the reaction of the notorious Zhirinovsky the Russian Duma speaker and a patented jester. It was him who offered Condi Rice a platoon of young soldiers for the total satisfaction. In case Sarah Palin really becomes a VP the abominable Zhiric will surely say that in this particular case the platoon of soldiers would feel satisfied too. The possibilities are endless to exploit the topic but our media folks (here I refer to those two bozos, Cal and Tom from USA Today as well as to the other non-named bozos) are not only lazy, ignorant bastards; they also know the secret- our readership does not read. That is the most highly guarded secret in our society; it is more TS than the plans to attack Iran.
Our readership does not read. Oh yes, they can construct phrases out of words but their cognitive abilities to process the information on the basis of experience and also on the basis of some established reference standard are lost forever. That is they cannot distinguish between the noise and the real signal. What can you expect from the people whose reading choices are guided by Oprah Winfrey, a person so obviously delusional and out of reach that she can be paraded in the psychotic ward as a perfect clinical example? Not a chance such people would read something like. ’.. the Russian forces invaded Georgia which resulted in them returning to Ossetia..’ and think, ’.. something is definitely wrong here. How could an invasion of Georgia result in returning of the invasive force back to the original positions? We surely did not do that in Iraq.’ Nope, the fatso mind will not process that. The fatso mind will switch to the Fox News to watch the parade of fatsos surrounded by the underfed Blondie wives at the GOP Convention. The fatso mind will then switch to another fatso Rush Limbaugh, hear his ‘McBrilliant’ diatribe and order another martini, “We will vote for the old boy against that another boy.”
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