1) I was surprised to hear a few day ago that there was a war brewing in Georgia. I really thought there was some racial or family tension that had been brewing, Hatfield and McCoy style that finally blew up. Boy, was I shocked to find out Georgia was a small Russian satellite country. And to think all this time I thought it was a state in the U.S. I don't remember traveling that far to visit Christine's family. And to Curt and Colleen, stay strong and don't let those forces over take your home or your spirit.
2) I noticed today that I am developing a southern twang when I say certain words. When I arrive back in the northeast, please feel free to greet to me with a kick in the shin or a slap on the wrist whenever certain words come out with a southern drawl.
3) We have spent some time reading Mitch Albom books and have realized a few key points. 1) We are both now realizing we must be ready for death, and to do that we must enjoy life, and 2) While Mitch Albom is not the best writer I have ever read, he is the best story teller, and a sit down of his books is needed. None take a long time, because (again) he is such a fine story teller, you never want to put down the book.
On to the blog
We started off with a trip to one of the last great slices of Americana, The Jack Daniels Distillery in Lynchburg, Tennessee. Phil checked out the website and noticed that they give tours every 15minutes from 9:00am- 6:15pm. There are two ultimate ironies to this story. The first being that Lynchburg is one of the last 'dry' counties in the United States. That's right, in the home of Jack Daniel's No7 Whiskey.. you can't actually drink the whiskey.
It sounds odd, but it makes sense. The brew was banned during prohibition, and when the law was repealed, Lynchburg found it important to leave the ban intact. After visiting a town like Interior, S.D., it's obvious to see why it makes sense. Lynchburg, is the smallest county in Tennessee, and the majority of the people work either in the J.D. distillery or in some facit of it in the area. A small area like this, with a near overabundant supply of whiskey could easily turn from wonderful small town, tourist trap, into ..well.. Interior. A small town with nice enough people, who allow the perils and irresponsibility's of living in a small town to take advantage of them. They seem to respect the law and what the distillery means to the community.
We arrived at 5:00, which was a bad thing. Phil had read the website wrong and the last tour was at 4:30 and not 6:15. We had traveled an hour and arrived in enough time to see nothing but a locked door. Christine walked around the building and found a door where people from the last tour were leaving out of and we used that opportunity to more or less sneak into the museum area. Christine explained to one of the women working there our predicament and how we had traveled so far, and she told us to walk around for a bit, and she would re-fire up the 5 minute introductory film they show before the tour an allow us to view it. While she got it ready we walked around a bit and went to the store to buy some Jack Daniel's (which we would not be able to drink here). The following conversation took place:
Lady- We have these 4 different bottles available today. The first has a picture and story of a man whittling and what it means to the distillery, the second has Jack Daniel himself on the front and these two are in a remembrance of two of our five awards that we have won. Which of the four would you like to buy?
Phil- (pause)
Christine- (pause) ..we'll..
Phil- Great, we'll take one of each.
Christine- One of each.?.?
Phil- We traveled a long way to get here. We are going home with something. We will give a couple away, and we will keep a couple for ourselves, or do something with it.
After we made our purchase we made our way to the next great irony in our story. We were led into a small movie theater, where we were the only two seated and the nice woman who Christine had spoken to earlier allowed us to view the brief introductory film, where we learned great fact like Jack Daniel was on 5'2" tall, and that J.D. is literally poured through cedar coal as part of its distilleration process. What is so ironic about this? We taped the movie, and made a bootleg in the whiskey museum.
After the film we walked around a bit more and posed infront of the No7 Jack Daniel's Clint Bowyer car, which is in the museum as well as read some interesting facts about the distilleration process, the history of Jack Daniel and Lynchburg County, Tenn.
We didn't get the full tour, which was my own (Phil's) fault. But we did get to experience part of the tour at least, and get idea of what happened there and the process involved, which was still pretty cool.
We proceeded our way to camp and had decided we would have dinner at the place next door, "The Cock of the Walk", upon getting a positive recommendation from a fellow camper.
Now in my life time I (Phil) have heard the term "Cock of the Walk" used twice. The first was on the famous SNL 'Cowbell' sketch, by the immortal Christopher Walken. (Listen Close, it's there.) The second time was in "Jeepers Creepers 2" a teen horror flick, when one guy challenges another to a fight. Even with there previous context clues, I was never able to truly decipher the meaning of the term, "Cock of the Walk".
Thankfully the restaurant menu cleared up the confusion. Boats used to go up and down the Mississippi bringing supplies and trading good to New Orleans. Each of these different trading boats had their own champion fighter, a.k.a "The Cock of the Walk". When one boat came across another boat, the "Cock of the Walk" of each boat would fight each other boat's champion fighter to see who would reign supreme as the true, "Cock of the Walk' a.k.a The Best of the Best.
Isn't that easy enough?
On to the Cock of the Walk's ambiance and food. The place has a rustic feel, and we both got a kick out of the beer being served in small tin cups.
Phil had the fried catfish, while Christine had the 'Red Feather Platter' that had a little bit of chicken, fish and shrimp in it. It was all served with coleslaw, skillet bread, fries and hush puppies. All of the food was wonderful, some of the best we have had.
As we were leaving we stopped by the store to get a "Cock of the Walk" shirt, just to make sure we had something to prove this entire experience and place really existed. We came up with a bit more that. First is this great picture of Christine in a giant rocking chair they have there.
While we were taking our pictures we stumbled upon some lovely women, who were staying at the Gaylord Opryland Hotel for the gospel music convention that was being held there, who heard us talking and asked where we were from. When Christine told them we were from New York, we learned we had a bunch in common with our new friends. One was from Rockland (Spring Valley), one was from Westchester (Ossining) and finally Brooklyn. More or less the outline of Christine and Phil's lives were standing in front of them in the form of gospel women from the New York metropolitan area.Funny how New York is the ultimate in similarities from the people you least expect it from sometimes.
2 More notes:
1) Yes, Phil does have a French detective mustache. He hasn't shaved since the day before the wedding. Bad facial hair was bound to happen.
2) Phil has vowed to wear the Adam Dunn jersey until he gets home as a show of solidarity to Adam despite his recent trade to the Diamondbacks. Christine recently remarked that it smells of "B.O."
Kentucky tomorrow...
1 comment:
phil, i was going to comment that your jersey was outdated so thanks for clearing that up.
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