So here we are, back in Sussex County for the foreseeable future, a.k.a. “The Summer.”
A few side trips are planned, one to Boston to see my son Donny and his family. One to Maine to visit Brian, Paula’s son, and his family. Over to Vermont to visit Barbara, Paula’s sister. And a week down the shore in Beach Haven with my sister Kathy and all of her fam, and my daughter Heather and her family. Kathy rents a cool house that was once a B&B with about eleven bedrooms, most with their own bathrooms, so it works really well!
We’ve been driving all over, dropping in on friends and former co-workers. The reception has been great, it’s nice to know that you’ve been missed!
One topic that comes up regularly is The Chatterbox.
“Hey, have you seen the Chatterbox? I mean where the Chatterbox used to be!”
“Uh, yea, I’ve been there.”
“Not the same, huh?”
“Well, no it’s not. It’s not supposed to be the same, we sold it.
“Yea, but don’t you miss it?
“Sure I do, I’ve told everyone that the fifteen years that we were there were some of the best in my life! I miss a great Cruise Night or Bike Night, I miss my customers and employees, and I miss all the things that we did for the folks in Sussex County. But I’ll tell you what I don’t miss.”
“What?”
“I don’t miss trying to pay the bills in the winter. I don’t miss trying to keep the septic system functioning. I don’t miss the air conditioning system keeping the place at barely 85 degrees on a hot day in the summer, and I don’t miss times like when the well pump gave out on a Fourth of July weekend and I had to have water trucked in, to the tune of $6000.00 just for three days until it got repaired!”
“Yea, well anyway, I’ll never go to Wawa!
“What? Are you kidding me?”
“Yea, they’re the reason the Chatterbox went away! They made you sell it!
“Made me sell it? Are you daft? Wawa saved my ass! I was able to exit gracefully, pay all of my debts and only lose my original investment from 15 years ago! Wawa is my hero!”
“Yea, well anyway, I sure do miss it and I’m still pissed at Wawa.”
“Well, you could have bought it and kept it the same.”
“What!!!??? Do you think I’m Crazy!!!???”
I rest my case.
So, I did visit the sight. It is obviously different, but it is supposed to be different. I think that I’m happier with the building being gone, perfect memories abound in my mind, rather than seeing it being used as a used car lot, furniture store, or any other sort of enterprise.
Good memories are the perfect vehicle of nostalgia.
“I need everything diverted to the Forward Deflector Shields!”
“I’ve given ye all she’s got Captain! I haven’ no more to give ye!”
Captain Don, of the Starship Winnebago, glance worriedly over at First Officer Paula, who just shrugged her shoulders and said quietly,
“I’ve never seen it so bad, but don’t worry, she’ll hold together.”
Outside, the barrage continued.
The damage to the Forward Viewscreen became more and more apparent as the remnants of the Drones splattered on the outer hull of the Starship.
Captain Don lamented, “This will be a mess to clean up. If I use the Viewscreen Clearing Gear it will just smear their remains all over and it will take half a light-year to fix! We’re way too close to the Sun this time of year and the Cosmic Radiational Effect will fry the bastards onto us like seared scallops to an un-seasoned skillet!”
The Starship Winnebago was hurtling down Intergalactic Route 70 passing through the wilds of the Outer Rim Colony of Marylandia when the attack commenced.
An alien race, the Cicadians, had unleased their Red-Eyed Kamikaze Drones on all unsuspecting craft traveling through the Northeast Quadrant of the Home Planet and the attack was forecast to continue for another few weeks before the Cicadians would eventually die off.
But, not before they instilled billions of Sleeper Cells that would return in the future and unleash their savage attack (purportedly in 17 years) on the Intergalactic Travelers of 2038.
The only course was to hold on until the end and hope that by 2038 better deflector shields will be developed by Starfleet or, be retired by then and not need to deal with this kind of viciousness again.
Captain Don steeled himself and came to the realization that, unfortunately for now, the only course left open for him was to endure the attacks until the Cicadians eventually wore themselves out and died.
The Starship Winnebago continued on her Five -Year Mission to explore strange new places, to seek out new restaurants and new National Parks, to boldly go where no Motorhome has gone before.
A Prime Example of the invading force of Drones from the Planet Cicadia
Just the sound of that city’s name sends shivers up and down any Country Music fan’s spine.
Down at the honky-tonk.
The honky-tonk?
Or a honky-tonk?
Depends on whether you’re going down to a specific location or just heading out to a random venue. Both work.
But what in the name of all that’s holy is a honky-tonk?
Do you like Country Music?
To stretch the vernacular, any place that you can hear Country Music (and have a beer) is a honky-tonk.
Except maybe Madison Square Garden, where you can do both but that would really stretch it.
A lot!
Nashville’s Lower Broadway is an endless array of bars.
Taken from the roof-top bar at Luke Bryan’s place. Every door that you see is a separate bar.
Honky-tonks.
Because here, more than anywhere else on the planet, you can listen to Country Music. Played and sung by some incredibly talented people, some famous, some who should be famous.
None of which are not talented.
This place is obviously unique. Name me another city where you can go door to door (I am not exaggerating) and hear (pick your genre) your favorite music.
Non-stop.
Morning ‘til morning.
Open ‘til close.
Almost 365.
Left to right, Johnny Cash, Joey Oldock, Keith Urban, Don Hall, Merle Haggard, Paula McCarthy, Rachel Condit, Reba McIntyre, and Alan Jackson.
It’s always been like this, but not quite like this.
Back in the day, before the ‘90’s, this part of Nashville was just as run down as any old city in the country was. Sleezy bars, pawn shops, peep shows, you name it, it was all here.
Back before the day, when Nashville was just a good ‘ole town in Tennessee, Country Music was popular, but only in the country. Not even close to being as mainstream as it is now.
The pinnacle of making it in the Country Music world was being invited to sing and play on Saturday night on the Grand Ole Opry stage in the Ryman Auditorium. Here the likes of Hank Williams Sr. , George Jones, Loretta Lynn, Little Jimmy Dickens, et al, plied their trade, and if they were really lucky, they were invited to join the Grand Ole Opry as a member, not just a stage performer.
The Opry started in 1925 on WSM out of Nashville and continues to this day, making it the longest running radio broadcast show in history, coming up on it’s 100 th anniversary.
The Ryman Auditorium was the home of the Opry from 1943 until 1974 when a new venue was constructed a few miles away near the now defunct Opryland Amusement Park. The new performing theatre was larger and more modern, having things like air-conditioning and other essential amenities.
The Ryman Auditorium, built in the 1890’s as a Tabernacle and performing venue.
What it didn’t have is history.
While the Opry has been in its current location for 47 years, it still considers the Ryman Auditorium as it’s spiritual home and returns there several times a year, to pay homage to its roots.
As like anything in this world, things change.
Some for the better, some not, and this position is usually dictated by one’s perspective.
Stay the course or modernize?
How far do you take it?
What parameters will folks endure without having them feel abandoned?
Semi-circular in design, there isn’t a bad seat in the house
All-wooden pews served as the seats of choice. Virtually indestructible and fitting for the Tabernacle.
Everyone was on stage at the same time and rotated to the front in order to be showcased.
Nashville is changing, and everyone wants a piece of that Golden Ring. Millions, no, probably billions, are being poured into Nashville and its environs. The city is littered with cranes on top of buildings, lifting them up story by story, making room for both residents and potential new business opportunities. The likes of The Four Seasons and other upscale hostelries are currently under construction. These guys don’t just show up and decide to build. They do their homework, and only invest in cities that they see a bright future in.
One of the modern buildings, locally called the Batman Building. In reality, the AT&T Building
NASCAR is back.
First time in about 20 years.
If ever there was a match made in heaven , it’s NASCAR and Nashville. NASCAR even moved its Championship Banquet to Nashville last year. Nashville has two world-class Convention Centers and is getting more popular every year.
This is the city to go to for both bachelor and bachelorette destination parties. This was evident even as we walked around. Que the nine young ladies, dressed nicely, wearing their cowgirl boots, roaming from honky-tonk to honky-tonk on lower Broadway. It was quite evident.
We left the Ryman and made our way across town, (everything is walkable) to the other hallowed building in Nashville.
The Country Music Hall of Fame.
One side of the Gold Record Wall
This is a special place, and they know it. The curators here do such a fine job of enveloping you in the soft twangs of nostalgia, that you feel like you’re wearing Dolly Parton’s Coat of Many Colors.
We spent about two and a half hours there and barely scratched the surface. When the history and base of something is centered in a particular area, it just feels right to have a place like the Hall of Fame located here.
The main reason that we came to Nashville was to visit with two awesome former Chatterbox employees, Joey Oldock and Racheal Condit.
I try not to throw the word awesome around indiscriminately, because not everything is awesome.
But these two are.
They both started in lower ranked positions as kids at the Chatterbox and quickly displayed their talents and willingness to learn and advance, to the point where they were both Shift Managers and had total control of our beloved restaurant. I told Joey years ago that he was a natural in the Service Industry and aside from his music, Joey has made a name for himself down here. Joey has found a home at an establishment called TheGoat, which has about 9 locations and is part of an organization that just hit a Billion dollars in sales! His presence in this town was evident as we walked around Nashville and his customers smiled and waved to him.
Rachel’s passion was always to help others and that path has led her to be accepted into the University of Tennessee’s Graduate School where she is pursuing a Master’s in Social Work. There will be no finer person to hold this title that I know of.
I am so incredibly proud of these two and seeing them grow from the little kids at the Chatterbox to these fine examples of adults made the visit that much more special.
“Jeezz, Don! Is that any way to start a blog post?”
I guess it is, I certainly got your attention, didn’t I?
But, more on that later.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, we find Paula and Don readying their covered wagon for the arduous journey back East to visit friends and loved ones for the summer. In reality we did start from the ranch, or farm, as it were, because this leg began at TomBoy Farm in Durango, Colorado, home to CubScout and Ling-Ling the cats, Chloe the goat, and 13 chickens who have received various and sundry names over the course of the past few years. There is Squishy, who as a young chick, would be incessantly underfoot and we all know what happens to little chicks that insist on behaving that way.
Yup.
Squish!
But not so squished as to have a very truncated life.
Just enough squish as to require time spent inside the house and be lovingly tended to by Lorelyn and the “Chicken Whisperer”, Travis.
The story obviously has a happy ending because Squishy is still pecking around the yard, oblivious to her almost fateful genesis.
Then, there is Tiny Hiny, the root of today’s Post Title and the latest medical miracle being sustained at TomBoy Farm. It seems that Tiny has an affliction known as a ‘Prolapsed Vent’, in short, it’s a ‘Chicken Hemorrhoid’.
Tiny Hiny in the farmhouse/infirmary being treated for her affliction.
I don’t know about you, but I’m not sure why they ALL don’t have this issue, with pushing out those Large, Extra-Large, and Jumbo elliptical Morsels of Breakfast Delights that we simply call ‘eggs’.
Not just any eggs mind you, these are “Farm-Fresh, Free-Range, No Antibiotics, as close to Heaven, no Rooster around, Happy Chicken Eggs” as you can get.
So, I will spare you the graphic details of the proper care and treatment of this condition, but I almost had to deal with Tiny and her problem on my own.
Here is the back-story.
Lorelyn and Travis asked us if we could mind the farm for them if they went to California to visit with Travis’s family. We readily agreed and decided that we would get to Durango a few days early in order to receive our “Farm -Sitters Certification” before they vamoosed to the West. In the meantime, Paula’s sister-in-law, Janet, took a turn for the worst in her battle with MDS, and Paula flew to Vermont to help out her sister, Barbara.
This left me all alone with the critters, not the least of which was Tiny. In short, the First Aid that Travis imbued upon Tiny was sufficient enough to have them leave with a clear conscience, but I still need to keep an eye on her. She had no further issues, much to my obvious delight.
Luckily, all of my charges responded nicely to the “Shake the Treats Bag” trick , which made round-up time fairly easy. Everyone gets tucked into their respective beds for the night, safe and sound so no Big Nasties can get to them.
CubScout on Sentry Duty outside the Chicken Coop.
Ling-Ling working on a brief and checking her email with Lorelyn getting in the way.
It is a Critter-Eat-Critter world out here in the Wild West, a definite fact of life, but I was going to do my darndest to make sure that nobody “bought the farm” on my watch!
The day after Lorelyn and Travis left for California was, in fact, a tad lonely. Feeling a bit sorry for myself and expressing that emotion to Paula when we spoke on the phone, made me realize that I definitely had the easier of our two situations. Helping her sister deal with the last days of Janet was a place that none of us would want to be.
My dose of reality sunk in and I realized that I had the far better scenario and I quickly started to just make the most of several days of talking only to my charges.
They did talk back.
It’s amazing how fluent one can become in Chickenese, Goatalk, and Meowspeak with just a few days of practice! After six days I was almost as fluent as Travis and Lorleyn are, but I’m sure that all of my wards were happy to see ‘Mom and Dad’ when they returned home the Sixth Day.
Two of the “Girls” playing it up for the camera.
Two and a half weeks later, and after Janet’s ‘Celebration of Life’, Paula returned to Colorado. Pausing for a brief respite of a few days so Paula could relax a bit, we started our trip back East, with our first destination being Nashville, Tennessee, the home of The Grand Ole Opry and Joey Oldock, one of my most beloved (not just by me!)former employees at the Chatterbox.
It’s Interstate 40 practically the entire way, staying at the rest areas in various states. We have arrived at what we believe is the best schedule for driving.
I start out in the morning because that’s when I’m at my best.
I drive for a few hours and then Paula takes over ‘til lunchtime.
Then I resume for the early afternoon until I start to nod off, and then Paula takes over for the mid-afternoon shift which leaves me snoozing in the co-pilots seat (nice co-pilot, huh) after which I switch back to the pilot’s seat and finish out our travel day, usually around 4 or 5 PM. We have been listening to books-on-tape(?) (What a misnomer!), so far we’ve heard, Unbroken, Into Thin Air, and we are currently a few chapters into Swiss Family Robinson.
Last night was spent at a rest area in Arkansas, which is the first one we’ve encountered where they separate the cars, trailers, andmotorhomes from the trucks. Usually, we are mixed in with the trucks which have tendency to leave their motors running which makes for a noisy night.
Last night was as calm as can be. 😊
Today we arrive in Nashville, just in time for me to sign my recording contract.
