Today was Celebrate Badger's Birthday.
Think of it this way: her due date was 9/25, so we're just celebrating closer to when she was supposed to arrive.
It's not my fault she showed up early, and I'll stand by that.
Her actual birthday is 9/11, but sometimes we celebrate a little later than the date.
From what I've been told, our ancestors chose Tennessee because it reminded them of Scotland and Ireland.
Sometimes I wish they'd picked a flat state, maybe Kansas or Louisiana.
You know, something that might have made them more homesick but would have blessed later generations.
Holy cow!
The way to the cave was straight up English Mountain.
All curves, not a lot of guardrails.
I closed my eyes and prayed Cowboy didn't drive us off the darn mountain.
We surprisingly made it safely.
As we were a bit early, we did a little shopping in the gift shop until the next tour started.
Then, after Cowboy and Badger entered the cave, I went outside to read.
Luckily, they had a big long bench, and it was really pleasant.
They also had a nice picnic area, but that was a bit of a climb and I am lazy.
I'm just going to say this.
First, Forbidden Caverns is a huge tourist attraction.
It attracts visitors from across the country.
It's not just a local thing.
Secondly, if you come down South with an attitude, don't be surprised if Southerners meet it with one of our own.
A woman from Chicago, I know she was from Chicago because she was loudly complaining, tried to bring a giant Goldendoodle into the caves.
There is a large sign on the door clearly stating “No Dogs.”
She was politely told no.
She was politely reminded of the rules.
She insisted the dog was trained.
She got rude, and the folks running the cave matched her tone.
Then she sat outside, telling everyone she met how “hateful” Southerners were.
No, we're not.
Most of us older Southerners were raised to be as charming and sweet as sugar, and to grit our teeth when someone’s being rude.
But we do have limits.
Cross that line, and you’ll quickly learn we’re not Georgia belles.
We’re mountain born and raised, and we don’t back down.
Somehow she managed to rope in a fellow from the parking lot who was also from Chicago and also had issues with the South, not the cave people, just the South in general.
They had a doggone good time trashing the South for a bit.
I probably should have opened my mouth and told them, “Oh bless y’all’s hearts, we're not all that bad,” in my most exaggerated Tennessee twang.
But I held my tongue.
For the record, I’m only fussing about one impolite guest.
I know that North, South, East, or West all have good apples and bad apples.
Before anybody gets their britches in a twist, this isn’t me dragging whole states or regions.
I’ve met wonderful people from everywhere, and I’ve met difficult ones from everywhere too.
I’m fussing about one loud tourist, not the entire map.
Every corner of the country has good apples, bad apples, and the occasional bruised one rolling around causing trouble.
Look, it was a long wait, and my book was as boring as the TV series they made from it.
A little people-watching, a little eavesdropping, and the time went by faster.
Cowboy and Badger got through the tour and thoroughly enjoyed it.
Cowboy said I could have gone in, it was nothing worse than walking down our dark hallway.
Badger said there was only one area that was tight to go through.
I wasn't willing to risk it.
I'm pretty badly claustrophobic, and I was afraid it would feel too much like being buried alive.
We got lost on the way out, but it turned out to be pure serendipity.
Instead of having to go back down that twisty, curvy mountain, we ended up on a fairly straight road that led us straight to the Island.
It seemed shorter, too.
We had dinner at Timberwood on the Island.
The food was good as always, but they've changed the paying system.
We're not going back, good food or no.
By the time we got out, the skies were dark and threatening.
We'd barely walked down the street when the skies opened and the rain started pouring.
We walked around in a pretty good downpour for the longest time.
Got a little wet, but we don't melt.
I found Badger's birthday present at Earthbound, and I managed to hide a little bat, so that was a surprise for her.
We were all tired and a bit damp by then, so we headed home.
First, a stop at Starbucks.
I needed a boost.
I miss the Margaritaville Coffee Shop.
Their coffee beat Starbucks hands down.
I don't know why they closed it down and brought in Starbucks.
The sun came bursting out as we started across the bridge to the parking lot.
Of course.
Our final stop was at the Sevierville Walmart.
We had to replace the Roomba, and the local Walmarts had been sold out.
This one only had maybe a handful left, so I got lucky.
I think it's the same model we killed.
It was a good model, it just got choked by pet hair.
It was 5:20 p.m. when we pulled into the drive.
We’d left the house at 10:30 that morning.
Badger came inside, went to her bedroom, and made herself a pallet on the floor.
She hasn’t felt well all evening, so Cowboy finally went out and bought her some Sprite.
I figure it was a mix of the twisty roads, the long day, and the fact that everywhere we went, people had soaked themselves in scent.
Badger is super sensitive to perfume, as am I.
Cowboy fed his chickens, gathered the eggs, and then curled up in his recliner for a long nap.
I took the three dogs out to go potty and then played on the computer, staying on my feet in case Badger needed me.
Cowboy finally woke up from his nap and is watching TV.
Heron’s home from work.
Badger has decided to sleep on my bedroom floor.
It can’t be comfortable, but she and Turtle are curled up together, happy enough.
I’m going to head in and rewatch Superman with the captions on.
I missed a lot of it the first time because I couldn’t hear.
I may ask my doctor for another hearing test, and start thinking seriously about hearing aids.
I’m really beginning to miss out on too much, and Cowboy and Badger get aggravated with me.
It's been a long day.
4 comments:
I had to think on this for a while, being a yankee who lived in Georgia. There was much that I enjoyed while living in the south, and just as much that I did not. First, that woman from Chicago was way out of line, I don't care where she was from. Rude and obnoxious. I won't go into any details but I was constantly called "yankee" in the sweet but brittle tone I became very familiar with. Like "bless your heart" with no blessing intended! Every place has its peculiarities, it's rude and it's polite and whatever is in between. I overall enjoyed my time in Atlanta but in the end realized it was not where I wanted to live to I returned to the land of the yankee! Happy Birthday to Badger.
Sandra: Thank you again for the birthday wishes; I’ll be sure to pass them along to Badger.
I appreciate you sharing your experience in Georgia.
I know being a Northern transplant comes with its own set of challenges.
You probably saw both sides of Southern manners—the sweet and the sharp—and I can understand how that stuck with you.
I was venting about one particular visitor who acted entitled and decided all of us were hateful.
That kind of attitude gets under my skin.
But I wasn’t trying to say all Northerners are like her.
I know better, and I’m sorry if it came across that way.
Forgive this Tennessee hillbilly for making it sound like I think all Northerners are the same.
I don’t.
I didn’t feel it was a blanket statement. It just made me think of my 18 month stay in a place that often seemed like a different country. That was both the good and not good. I met Dionne Warwick where I worked. A former roady for her brought her into the bank to meet us all. Wonderfully gracious woman. Saw Prince in concert. Odd in GA since he was from here! Bruce Springsteen. I had made a good younger friend I did a lot with. Lots of pleasant memories.
I’m glad it didn’t come across that way.
Sounds like your time down here came with its own mix of surprises.
Dionne Warwick in a bank lobby? That’s not something you see every day.
And Prince in Georgia—he’s my all-time favorite, so I’m a little jealous you got to see him live.
Bruce Springsteen too? You packed a lot into those 18 months.
Glad you had someone to share those moments with, and glad you came away with some good memories.
The South really can feel like a different country, depending on where you land and who you meet.
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