Last weekend I fulfilled a long-time dream of mine. I went to Tennessee. And I rode across it on a motorcycle (not really part of the dream, at all, but fun). Right up there next to a teleporter and a pony was crossing Tennessee off my state list. See, in sixth grade, we did state reports. I chose the volunteer state for the lone reason that there were horses there. And I loved, loved, loved (and still do love) horses. In my mind, Tennessee was one big rolling pasture of horses and white fences. Which is actually Kentucky - I went there when I was 15, but yes, this past weekend, I saw plenty of green (including the Bonnaroo kind) and horses in Tennessee.
When I did my state report, I'm pretty sure I plagarized 75% of information from whichever books (this was before the Internet) I had checked out from the library. The other 25% I probably made up about horses. Just realized this is why I'm in the profession I'm in, but I digress...
I already knew about the TVA, that Tennessee was home to Kodak, and it was the proud state of volunteers and Tennessee Walking Horses. But going there gives you a different perspective than reading library books published in 1974. So here are my recent findings on Tennessee. Call it an addendum, if you will, 18 years later.
There are pine trees. And a lot of other trees. They line the highways and the green valleys and hills (there are valleys and hills!). It's beautiful. It's lush. It's almost like parts of California but...
There's humidity. Like most states, including Texas. But it will never be Texas mainly because...
There are no bugs!!! Texas may love God a whole lot, but God loves Tennessee more. (Tangent: I know, I'm bagging on TX a lot lately but I swear I have some good posts coming) This no-bug thing blows my fucking mind. I was outside for 4 days straight, in giant pastures on a farm, sleeping outside on the ground, sitting next to puddles of mud, not bathing, practically living in a filthy refugee camp of hipsters and hippies, and I did not get ONE SINGLE BUG BITE. And I didn't even use bug spray. I think there are more mosquitoes in my own apartment than in all of Bonnaroo combined, people. Maybe it's because they're volunteers, those good people in Tennessee.
The police force in Tennessee is working. They're out and about, being both friendly and honorable (I'm full of shit on this but I really dislike cops and these guys were nice so they get an A in my book). We sped across Arkansas doing 90mph and didn't see one cop, and we get to Tennessee and I see three or four in the first hour alone. And their cars are a non-police looking tan and black. Far better than white, blue and red. I know. I'm un-American. I'm moving to Tennessee, whatever.
Yuengling Beer. It's sold in Tennessee, and that's as far south or west as it probably goes. I say probably because while we didn't try to buy beer in Arkansas, I just have a hunch that fancy, hard-to-say, import (meaning, Yankee beer) wouldn't fly there.
Memphis. We drove through a little part of downtown Memphis after eating lunch at a fabulous, famous BBQ place (Neely's, like the couple that has the Food Network show now, yes, I was the only one in the car who knew that thankyouverymuch). The architecture of the buildings was really awesome, from the retro old 70s styles to the government buildings built a hundred or more years ago.
Finally, I can say that Ryan Adams, that skinny, whiney, movie-star dating musician, is wrong in his song called "Tennessee Sucks (in the summer)." It doesn't suck. Sure, it may suck the living soul from you if you stand in the 100 degree heat and 98% humidity in the middle of afternoon without any shade, but it doesn't just suck.
Sure, these are all positive addendums to my state report but why cover issues like poverty and racial tensions and the Tennessee Titans? Nobody wants to talk about that.
No comments:
Post a Comment