September 12, 2019

Yesteryear
One year ago today: September 12, 2018, the first hot dog.
Five years ago today: September 12, 2014, the only Dick that day.
Nine years ago today: September 12, 2010, playing blues for nothing.
Random years ago today: September 12, xxxx, WIP

           This is a day to remember. The second and unplanned day of the drive [from Spartanburg] to Jacksonville. After the news arrived of the dog eating the insect bait, I stayed overnight in case the call came to return to Nashville. It’s a changed situation and the dogs are now, at times, totally dependent on my care and I would not want anything to happen to them. In the end, this incident was nothing big, but I’m not keen on this poison control center charging for their “service”. I can’t offer a solution because charging does pass the cost to the people who experience the problem rather than the taxpayer.

           The memory foam is entirely comfy so I spent a restful 8 hours at the Wal*mart Arms, awakening at dawn more than refreshed. I felt like crashing until noon. That’s memory foam. But this was only possible because of the cool night—I never could sleep in a car in southern daylight. Tried it, damn near melted on the coldest of days.

           The scenic route took me past a few Thrifts, where I picked up items like a book on the 5-string banjo and a super nice caulking gun. I stopped regularly, so that found me having coffee in towns like Waynessboro, Jesup, and gas in Nahunta. Georgia ran out of names to call places really early in the game. Finally calling ahead to meet up with Trent, we took in lively part of town where he knows all the people. This theater had a Linda Ronstadt film but not until Friday the 13th, so I could not stick around.
           I did point out on our last dog walkies in Tennessee that we had us a waxing gibbous, meaning it is the 13th and a full moon. Stay away from Miami. Heck, not because of the spooky coincidences, keeping away from that town is good advice any time. This panel shows the marquee and some grim-faced broad typical of the area. Trent gave me the royal tour, it’s a small area near the freeway with pubs, grub, and quite the antique store.

           Here’s a view of the drive coming out of the Cumberland Gap. If I didn’t mention, this is almost twenty years to the day that I was last here. And that was my first time, thinking I’d never see the place again. It was rainy back then and the last leg was at night. There was a gap in the blogs at that stage in my life, but I recall the trip very well.
           One lane was closed and a religious revival tour bus doing 35 mph backed up the traffic something like 28 miles I heard later. That rig knew they and their Jesus bumper stickers were blocking the road but never pulled over at any time to let the people past. If them pricks had anybody praying, it was that they’d take that tour bus off one of the cliffs. Now I remember, I arrived at my destination some four hours late.

           This was a far better trip. The views of the mountains are great, although North Carolina seems to lack any roadside stops where you can enjoy the vistas. Sorry if any repeated information, but the blog segments of this trip had to be written in stages.

Picture of the day.

Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           Alas, this store was the most interesting and was closing up when I arrived. I did the whirlwind tour and found the Sammy-mobile. The downsize was the $195 price tag. I could make a crack about who is the dummy, but this little car was probably worth it. Use your imagination to place Samuel Lee in the driver’s seat. The place is not a Thrift, so expect to pay full price for everything, but on the other hand, it is worth a tour. The only truly unique shop in the area. I believe it is called “Antiques, Junk & More”. No matter, you can’t miss it.

           I was famished, having driven without a food break all day, so we found a diner across the road owned by the same establishment we stopped for a brew. Inside was the second and only other great-looking dame on the entire journey. I first mentioned this decades ago, do not come to America expecting to see babes everywhere. They are here, but they don’t go the same places you do. They don’t need to. It increases the joy of actually finding them on such rare occasions.

           This one was the babe greeter at the door. Blonde, blue, skin tight jeans, and no possible opportunity for a photo of the goods. However, here is the deep fried pickles first mention on August 30-ish. Trent ordered up a side and they are surprisingly good. Try a variety of the dips. I will get these again given the chance. I would say between the visit, the food, and the looks of that babe, this would be the first good impression I ever had of Jacksonville. They say it is a beauty of a city. Maybe, since this is the only time I’ve seen it in daylight when it wasn’t raining. Three hours away puts it not quite as distant as Miami. Where I’ll be heading in a few weeks.

           I crossed the Florida thermocline just north of Orlando, where the highway is perpetually torn up. That means I’m back in the tropics and being away so long, I’ve lost track of all my local projects. At least I was spared a downpour, so I stopped for a brew at the Fubar. Charla was on duty with what was likely her daughter. They were talking about selling hotdogs. Hmmm, I happen to have some equipment that isn’t being used. Check back with me on that.

           In all, this last trip (August 8 thru September 11) will represent the defining moments of this decade. This is how the twenty-teens will be remembered for me. Not the motorcycle, buying the house, or the monumental cross-country trips. There were no spectacular events this round, I don’t think we even went anywhere together. It’s like this. Things tend to either uncomplicate themselves or get bypassed when I show up. I like complicated formulas and logic, not people or events. Are you listening, all you age-appropriate women? I didn’t think so.

           For this reason I believe that repaired lawn swing has gotten more use in the past week than for its prior existence. In fact, I’m sure of it. Too bad the videos can’t be posted since they show us and not our stunt doubles. However, you can have all the doggie footage you want. These days only one video in maybe eight gets past the door. Those that do are largely in cold storage. If things were prioritized, you’d by now have seen fifty more pictures of that lawn swing.

           Wait for anything new since my yard was taken over by weeds and the perimeter by strange-looking insects. I’ll need at least two days to hammer that back. I’m still decompressing and have this strange booklet of “thinking” puzzles I picked up at a thrift in, I dunno, Dorkboro, Georgia. It’s where they tell you the situation and you figure out why it happened. Like bungalows don’t have staircases and the airplane hadn’t taken off yet. I’m actually doing okay on the ones that don’t require what I call “television grade” knowledge. For example, I know zilch about rock-climbing equipment and those father’s-nephew’s-cousin’s-sister type questions.

Last Laugh