A column by John Estridge
Just wanted to tell everyone I had a great time on vacation in the Smokies.
It is hard to count the number of times I have stayed in the Smokey Mountain area. I am not a lover of crowds, but I will handle that phobia to get to experience the mountains. And at this age and time in my life, I often wonder when a visit to a place like that or to see a friend or loved one, will be my last time.
But enough of that: One event on the trip really stood out to me and my traveling compatriots, all family members.
We had parked at the Ripley Aquarium in Gatlinburg, very nice I might add. I thought they had added quite a bit since My Long Suffering Wife Ruth and I last were there, but I was told no by Ruth who is much more an authority on everything than I am. All of that was there when we were there before, she said with that look I tend to get from her almost 24-7 anymore. Forgetfulness is becoming more prevalent here, but I digress.
Anyway, after the Ripley’s Aquarium, we went walking up and down Gatlinburg’s streets, as one can leave the vehicle parked at the Aquarium, stopping to eat some ice cream at Ben and Jerry’s – I allow myself to be off my diabetic diet on vacations – and then we headed back to the Aquarium parking garage. It took longer than it sounds.
Another digression here about Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg:
I related my first memory of Pigeon Forge to my sisters Karen and Linda through our thread on Messenger, and they did not say anything along the lines of have you thought about seeing a doctor; the 70s did a lot more damage to you than you realize; and I do not think they have another thread with Ruth and without me where they talk about having me put away, so I believe this is accurate. Karen and Linda would know because we all three lived it.
It had to be the early 60s. We were really poor, but dad believed in taking us on a vacation every summer. The way I remember it we would leave in the middle of the night, get to the Smokies around dawn, spend the entire day in the mountains, get a motel room for the night and then spend another day in the mountains before heading back to Liberty, Indiana and life as we knew it. Mom would fill the cooler with cold fried chicken so we would not have to eat out although I think we got one breakfast in a restaurant out of the deal.
Hats off to my departed dad for that as the time driving, herding children in the mountains and lack of sleep with everyone in one room and traveling and walking up and down mountains the entire time, have gained more and more of my respect with each year I age.
Anyway, we always stayed in Gatlinburg. There really was no Pigeon Forge. But on this one vacation, dad had a relapse of malaria, which he picked up in the War. We stayed in a motel in Pigeon Forge, my first memory of Pigeon Forge, and it was like a few scattered really bad-looking, one-story, old motels in a geographically small area.
It seemed to be a steady downpour, monsoon-like, the entire time the family was pressed together in the small room. Remember, if one were lucky at that point in history, there were three TV stations. And if I remember correctly, there was very bad reception. A poignant memory was of Karen and I sitting in uncomfortable, metal exterior chairs — without cushions — of that time looking at a really neglected and diseased-looking, unheated pool we could not get to because of the deluge. Dad talked out of his head, burned up and froze, and would not allow my mother to drive us home.
I have never been to Las Vegas, but the present Pigeon Forge kind of fits my vision of that city. Neon is everywhere with flashing, changing billboards and marquees. There is something to do for every age group including mindlessly shopping, which I really don’t do, but that is why God made Kindles.
All the dinner shows are in Pigeon Forge and not Gatlinburg. Several places in Gatlinburg, like restaurants, were closed or had very limited seating. Whether it was from the pandemic, lack of employees or both, it is hard to tell. However, we had no trouble with those problems in Pigeon Forge. People working were much friendlier in the Forge or the Pigeon, whichever way you want to go with that.
Gatlinburg seems now like the poor cousin to Pigeon Forge.
Ok off that.
Another digression is one I have to tell on myself. One of our planned evenings was to Dolly’s Stampede, which was once called Dolly’s Dixie Stampede. Now, I am born and raised a Yankee, but even with the hatred and disgust of me from my ex mother in law (an Arkansas lass) I was immersed in southern culture during my first marriage. I see no problem in the word Dixie. With history, it is what it is. We should not sugar coat it but learn from it. There was a Dixie.
There are the former Dixie Chicks, now the Chicks. Isn’t the word Chicks wrong now? Shouldn’t they call themselves Them to be totally Woke or completely politically correct?
Them, as a title, brings to mind the 50s science fiction film by that name about giant radioactive ants, which traumatized my childhood self as I fought the good war of my backyard against ants with my army toys and my trusty magnifying glass. My mom would confiscate the magnifying glass if she saw me use it as she thought that was crueler than smashing the little creatures with my toy tanks, but again I digress a long way from today’s subject. Oops, one other thing about Them before I try to get back to reality and 2021, it starred James Whitmore and James Arness among others. And I lied, one more thing: It remains one of my favorite movies.
At the Stampede, we were put at a long bench above an arena with a dirt-looking floor. We got pretty good food. The rotisserie chicken was probably the best of that ilk I have ever had. First, the waitress told us they once did not have any eating utensils, but now we would find a fork beneath our upside down plate. One, I could not hear her because I am old and deaf, so I had her to come over and repeat herself. I then gave her a sympathetic laugh because I thought she was attempting humor in an awkward way. After everyone around me gave me the Ruth look, including Ruth, it was explained to me by embarrassed family members what she was telling me is real. Before the Pandemic and apparently the name change, one ate the entire meal with their hands. But now because of the Pandemic more than the name change – I guess – we now get a fork.
Now, I have heard a lot of misinformation touted as science and vice versa about COVID but how in the world is the introduction of a fork supposed to keep us safe? As usual, my mind was in a state of confusion with the world in 2021 and how people readily accept what I consider weird, well, crap.
Anyway, I then caused a commotion because I wanted unsweetened ice tea (diabetes) and coffee. My order threw our nice waitress off. At first I thought it was the order for tea and coffee. However, Ruth then jumped in and ordered sweet tea and coffee, which was accepted more readily than my order. I think it had something to do with sweet tea and that affinity for sweet tea in that land that used to be called Dixie. But the waitress recovered and brought Ruth and me both the tea and the coffee with packets of sweetner and powdered creamer to our area.
Dolly, if you are reading this, the coffee sucked. And the potato — what was that slab of potato supposed to be? Seasoning would have been nice, which adds flavor to a potato slab.
Our first course was a biscuit and a white fluid that went into a shallow dish beside it. Biscuits and Gravy for supper, how southern is that? But then my stepdaughters and then Ruth brought that dish up and drank from it. I was embarrassed that I was with people drinking gravy. However, I thought that must be the best gravy in the world since they were drinking it and really enjoying it.
I followed suit, and it was very good … creamy vegetable soup. I mentioned the situation with Ruth, and you got it, I got the Ruth look.
She, the waitress not Dolly or Ruth, brought my second glass of tea as something happened out in the arena. I was watching that action with intensity as I put sweetner in my second glass of tea. This caused my tea to foam or so I thought. It was covered in white. I had caused enough disquiet in my area so I just ignored the tea and finished drinking the tepid tasteless water that looked like coffee.
My waitress, who I know hated to pass in front of me by that time but was forced to due to her job requirements, then asked me if I had put creamer in my tea. As the others in about five rows in my vicinity stared at me and tittered nervously, I had to admit that made more sense than my tea foaming due to the addition of a sweetner. She brought me yet another glass of tea and Ruth took all of my creamer away from my reach.
Again, back to Gatlinburg and the purpose of all of this.
We were heading back to the parking garage, and we were stopped at the back of a large queue of people waiting to cross the street. This is a common occurrence in Gatlinburg. We stood there and stood there, and then I began to look at the situation. The front group, a young family with a stroller, was dutifully waiting for the permission of the inanimate walk/don’t walk sign to allow us to walk. A robotic voice was repeatedly and sternly telling the group not to go.
It was a one-lane street with the traffic going from right to left. There was plenty of viewing space for oncoming vehicles, and there were none, vehicles that is. Again, life in 2021 really shocks and upsets me. I went around right end, caused unease for others by heading past where I was supposed to stay standing and waiting for permission. Family members came in my wake as they are also nonsheepleminded.
I wanted to make a strong, robust statement, but unfortunately I could not cross in stride as three vehicles did come past. Undeterred I came to a stop without falling – remember my age and the Events I Can No Longer Talk About But Always Do (EICNLTABAD) – and stood to let the vehicles pass, and then walked across the street, with the robotic voice still telling me not to move.
I heard murmuring behind me about breaking the law. I am not kidding.
Someone asked if they should all break the law. Another person said “that is what is wrong with America.” I do not know if she meant the sheeple waiting or me leading the rebellion as other people began to cross the street after me. A particular bar of “Alice’s Restaurant” began playing in my empty head.
One woman on the promised land on the other, now my side of the paved divide, said “We could have been standing there until June.”
And I think she was correct.
It really made me feel good for at least a short amount of time that I had made a statement, but then Ruth, sensing the moment, reminded me of the gravy and the creamer, and I came back to my 2021 reality.
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Loved your story. I can attest that yes Dolly’s Dixie Stampede did offer your dinner without any utensils. As I recall it was served on an aluminium or tin plate.
Yes. It was metal. I also did not like the north was in red and the south was in blue. The north wore blue and the south wore whatever they could. Thank you for your comment.