So, the Dawgs were off on Saturday. As were the Gators. And the Gamecocks. Kentucky played Jacksonville State and Vandy played Army. The SEC East was quieter than my radio when I hear post 2001 Kenny Chesney song come on. The only team to tee it up was Tennessee, who played a tune up game with Alabama, and was promptly destroyed 37-6. They played Alabama close for a half, simply on adrenaline/hatred, and then the Tide woke up and the rout was on. I saw Saban's face as they ran into the locker room at halftime and I knew it was over. He looked like Robert Patrick in Terminator 2: Judgment Day and Tennessee was John Connor, except he gets caught this time and the Terminator makes mincemeat out of him. I swear, after the game ended, I saw Saban's arm morph into a sword and then back to an arm again.
Speaking of mincemeat, Auburn was turned into Spam by LSU on Saturday. There was a five minute interval where LSU scored 21 points, delivered two devastating hits on kickoffs, caused and recovered a fumble, and made Gene Chizik suddenly realize that he needed another $180,000 and possibly a hand grenade to have a prayer in this game. Alas, it was not to be. It turned out to be a snoozefest and poor Vern and Gary had to invent topics to discuss as they painfully watched the game end. I was fully expecting a "What is Britney doing with her life?" comment. LSU and Alabama are head and shoulders above the rest of us, and the November 5th game is shaping up to be epic.
I spent my weekend in Franklin, North Carolina. What a beautiful town and the western North Carolina mountains are something to see in the Fall. I went to Franklin's annual Pumpkin/Halloween festival on Saturday, which was awesome for people watching. There was banjo picking, funnel cakes at every corner and some of the local high schoolers did the "Thriller Dance" in the town square. It was disturbing to see so many Tennessee and Florida fans roaming about, though. They were EVERYWHERE. I understood the Tennessee contingent, as Franklin is a stone's throw from the Tennessee line. But Florida? After asking around, I found out that Franklin is a summer destination for snowbirds who live in Florida for half the year and then escape the heat in the mountains. A bunch of old Yankees, with skin like a Naugahyde couch, in their most loud blue and orange. Tennessee people in their loudest, Cheetos orange garb. I thought it uncanny, however, that somehow all of these people got together and decided to be hick trash for Halloween. It's amazing how the human spirit works, it really is.
I love rural North Carolina though. It is the quintessential South. Mountains, barbeque, moonshine, farms and roads called "Leon Caldwell Avenue" or "Burnt Church Road." Rural areas do not have subdivisions called "Rolling Meadows" or "Whispering Springs." They name their roads after people or events, which I love. Drive through Eastern Cobb County, Georgia. Once you navigate through the strip malls and the red lights, you will get to the residential areas. They have all these ridiculous names that seem to imply that you could possibly be in Italy or on some mountainside in the Rockies. Nope. I guess the names make the residents happy.
"Where do you guys live?"
"Rolling River Estates."
"Ooooooh, that sounds nice. I bet your Publix is really awesome."
I live in Cobb and I say this with all confidence: It is a rule that in suburban Atlanta, you must have a Publix every 500 yards. And a Starbucks (which I dig). However, it's so unbelievably homogeneous and uninspiring, kind of like a Georgia Tech football game. (who got spanked by Miami this weekend, which caused yours truly to blissfully consume three racks of ribs from Rib Country)
So, what are the rules for rural areas? We sure did not have a Publix. Or red lights. Or Starbucks. Honestly, there are not many rules for us. We are not homogeneous. Take Cassville for example (disclaimer: yes, I know we have subdivisions now). We had one store, lots of barbed wire fence, roads named after families and areas, one cemetery, three churches, a post office and a fire station. We had a county dumpster close by (with a spraypainted sign that said "No Dumpster Diving" of course) and we had several trailer parks, which is a given down here. There is also a rule that everyone must grow at least one tomato plant, at least one family member must actually like turnip greens and of course, everybody is at least 1/32 Cherokee.
Franklin was much bigger but it still had that small town feel. The only problem was the lack of a Waffle House. They had Huddle House. I committed sacrilege and actually ate there. When I asked for ketchup and the waitress handed me a bottle of Hunt's, I just looked to the sky and said "Be not far from me O Lord, O my strength, haste thee to help me." (+1 for Saving Private Ryan reference) (this is one of the prayers that Barry Pepper uttered before he smoked a Nazi during the Normandy landing) Hunt's ketchup is like going to the beach for vacation and it rains every day. If they served Pepsi, I would have gone bulimic in the bathroom and just bailed.
There is one constant in small towns and that is the local nut. The guy that everybody knows and understands that there is SOMETHING wrong with him, but nobody is quite sure what. It may be physical or mental, but he just can't get right. (+1 for Life reference) We had several over the years, including one man who was about 6'8. He used to roam around Cassville in the 60's and 70's and refused to cross Highway 41 on foot so he would crawl through a drainage ditch that ran under the highway. He would do work on people's farms for money and then spend it all on candy. Once, he was told to dig post holes for a new pasture that was being prepared. The farmer, a relative of mine, unfortunately did not inform him of exactly how many post holes he needed, so when he returned at the end of the day, he found the man in a 15 foot post hole, still digging. He would go around town at Christmas and everybody always had a gift for him and my grandmother used to cook him an entire pot of grits, which he would consume on their doorstep with all his presents scattered around. We had another guy for about ten years that wore a Santa Claus outfit and carried around a bucket everywhere he went. I never knew his name and I never looked in that bucket. Then there was another man who would walk between Cassville and White daily, muttering to himself. I would see him at the Waffle House from time to time, bumming cigarettes from customers and occasionally affording a cup of coffee. The list goes on and on, so maybe Cassville had nut(s) plural, but at least we were original.
Then of course, you had the meth addicts. They were less endearing than the crazies, but they were entertaining just the same. There was one lady who was hooked on meth that used to come in the store and want ice cream and candy at 6 AM. She had the telltale scabs on her arms and face, the rotting teeth and the faraway look. I was pretty young back then and I asked my Dad what was wrong with her, he said, "my first thought would be....a lot." (+1 for ConAir reference) She would buy 2-3 Snickers bars and plow through them on the bench and then walk back home. One day, she just started walking down the double yellow line on Cassville Road in traffic, singing "Seventeen" by Stevie Nicks. I just walked out there and escorted her home, and she never broke stride, "just like the one winged dooooove!"
Other Highlights:
1) Wisconsin lost to Michigan State on a Hail Mary pass with 0:00 left on the clock. That's one more undefeated team down and the second time in my life that I did not use a Big Ten game for background noise as I napped.
2) A Franklin resident had a tractor parked out in front of his pasture with a plywood sign that said "Mahindra Tractors = JUNK" The offending tractor was disassembled and had birds nesting on it. Mahindra is located in Mumbai, India. Indian tractors? What's next? Cream of Wheat in the Waffle House? Forgettaboutit.
3) Occupy Atlanta is upon us. Since I am apolitical, I will not launch into a tirade about what a massive waste of time this liberal, pinko nonsense really is. Get a job, Democrats! =) (if you do not realize that I am joking, my brother will come by and hit you in the head with a tack hammer, because you're a retard) (+1 for Tommy Boy reference)
4) Booked another trip to NYC, which means three things....cocktails, pizza, cannolis, steak, Broadway, the NBA store, Mickey Mantle's, the 21 Club, Central Park, Katz's Deli, Gramercy Park Hotel, Beacon Theater, McSorley's, Sabrett hot dogs at 4 AM, and Little Italy manicotti with a Peroni to wash it down. (I'm using Otis Nixon arithmetic here)
5) The NBA owners and players union met for 16 hours straight to try and resolve this lockout. Nothing was accomplished. Guys are talking about starting their own League and more and more are going overseas. In 16 hours, I could have eaten five steaks, watched three football games, juggled my fantasy team, written 10 blogs, ran a mile and worked on my deadlift personal record. Just sayin.
It's Georgia - Florida week, or as I've come to call it, Halloween. I'm not saying it's the biggest game of the year, I'm saying it's the most pivotal. If we lay an egg down there again, look for Richt to be gone after the Tech game. If we pull it off and somehow beat Auburn and Tech, then we will likely meet LSU/Bama in the Georgia Dome. Then we will need Lady Luck, Erk Russell, Jesus, George Patton, Chuck Norris, the ghost army from The Return of the King, and a big game from Crowell to pull that one off. I've been on the horn all week with Chuck Norris, so stay tuned. Have a great week.
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