Tag Archives: Travel

A Totally Not Funny Account of My Trip to New Orleans

26 Mar

Last night, the group returned from the field trip to New Orleans after a lot of driving, walking and eating. Everyone was tired and haggard, a motley bunch indeed. Although I wanted sleep desperately, I took time to login into WordPress to check up on what I had missed over the weekend. There, I found my first negative comment.

Without going into details, the commenter took exception to one of the posts and wrote that there was nothing funny about it. In fact, I was being cruel. God forbid that someone look at the idiosyncratic aspects of life and write about them. I suppose that finding humor in the mundane is considered cruel in the eyes of some. I really don’t want to step on the toes of the sensitive, so here is a totally not funny account of my trip to New Orleans. Although, a lot of funny things happened.

Friday

Left campus at 6:45 AM in three white passenger vans.

Drove to Laurel, Mississippi and had crepes for lunch.

Drove to the La Quinta Inn on the outskirts of New Orleans.

Had hash browns covered with ham, bacon, sausage and gravy at a local diner.

Went to sleep.

Saturday

Left at 8 AM for the drive to the French Quarter

Took the students on a historical tour of the French Quarter. (A lot of cool and funny stuff happened here, but some people may not want to read about it.)

Went to lunch at a food festival and had gumbo.

Watched parts of a basketball game at Margaritaville.

Had a very enlightening conversation at Pat O’Brien’s.

Marched in a wedding parade.

Met with the students to make sure they were still alive still present. (Saying “still alive” may be funny to some, but who can take the chance?)

Looked at the art being sold around Jackson Square.

Had dinner at The Court of Two Sisters and dined on shrimp wrapped in bacon; salad; duck breast; dirty rice; and bread pudding.

Strolled down Bourbon Street

Loaded onto the bus and returned to the hotel.

Went to sleep.

Sunday

Got on the bus at 7:30 AM

Drove through the Garden District and the Lower 9th Ward. (There should be a social commentary here about the effects of Hurricane Katrina, but someone might take it wrong.)

Visited the site of the Battle of New Orleans.

Had lunch at McDonald’s in Laurel, Mississippi

Arrived back home.

It was a fun and informative trip for the students and teachers. It’s too bad that I don’t feel comfortable relating some of that fun. With the next post, I will return without the stick in my ass.

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Terror on the Plateau

8 Mar

I recently wrote about my battle with the forces of nature while supporting my favorite basketball team. That event took place in 2008, but another event just as terrifying took place the next season.

In January 2009, I headed out with my friends, Jeff and McDonald, to watch the University of Tennessee play basketball against South Carolina. Being a night game, we got a late start and knew that we would have a late night return. We didn’t realize that we would be lucky to get home at all.

After a victory by the home team, we walked out of the arena and into a night that was damp but not cold, the type of night that we had driven through many times. Jeff, who was driving, hit Interstate 40 while we listened to the post game show on the radio. We were all hungry but decided to drive until the show was over. Having done this many times, all of us knew that this would get us to the Rockwood exit and a Ruby Tuesday’s.

We had a great meal before driving off into the night. As we walked out of the restaurant, it was impossible to ignore the fine mist falling from the sky, and I, without realizing it, made a fateful decision. I told McDonald that I would sacrifice and sit in the cramped backseat.

Traffic was heavy as we drove westward toward home, and the mist continued. It was a tricky drive, but something was happening outside that we didn’t realize. Between Nashville and Knoxville sits a geographic formation called the Cumberland Plateau that is higher in elevation that the two cities on either end of it. The higher we climbed, the colder it was getting. The fine mist was turning to black ice on the road.

The first sign of trouble was a pickup and a trailer that began swerving in front of us. We thought he just didn’t know how to pull a U-Haul and passed him. That’s when Jeff realized that we were on ice, and the vehicle was out of his control. For me, the next few seconds went into a mental slow motion. We were sliding along with other cars, and Jeff was trying to steer toward the guard rail to get us stopped. The mist was coming down, and fog had descended. That’s when the headlights hit something that no one could ever suspect. A wall was sitting across the road. Not a real wall, but an over turned tractor-trailer lying in our path.

Idiotically, I was not wearing a seatbelt and knew that I was in trouble. Without thinking, I laid down in the backseat and closed my eyes. From the back of my mind came the idea that I needed to stay limber. Maybe I heard it while watching a NASCAR race. Whatever the reason, I forced myself to stay loose on impact.

After that, I heard Jeff say, “I believe we’re gonna hit her, boys!” McDonald replied, “No shit!” Then, there was impact, and my head hit the back of the seat. Almost instantaneously, another vehicle, the one pulling the trailer, hit us. We sat stunned until someone from the outside yelled, “I smell gasoline!” The doors would not open, so we crawled out the smashed back window; climbed over the other truck; and, jumped over the guard rail.

I had the foresight to grab my cellphone as we escaped the carnage and called my parents when I knew that we were out of harm’s way. As I told them the story, I could hear crashes in the distance. Before it was over, we were car number one in a forty car pileup.

However, the night was just beginning. Jeff’s face smashed into the steering wheel, and he was losing blood and teeth at an alarming rate. McDonald couldn’t climb over the guard rail because his arm was broken. Luckily, I only had a scratch on my forehead. Immediately, people started scrambling. A woman was trapped in her car and under the truck. The TV announcer for the game was in the wreck as well. Truckers were climbing out of their cabs and trying to help. The air was getting colder by the minute, and the road was getting slicker. Now, we jokingly call it “Terror on the Plateau”, but it wasn’t funny that night.

I got Jeff into the cab of a truck for warmth and called his wife. I also called our friend Larry and asked him to call McDonald’s wife. That’s when I got a call from a friend caught in the traffic. He asked, “Are you caught up in this wreck?” I replied, “We are the wreck.” He sat in one spot until daylight.

After 1 1/2 hours, the ambulances began to show up. They were behind because seven other wrecks happened at the same time, and they couldn’t make it up the incline to us. It was too frozen. We finally got Jeff into an ambulance, and I waited for another one with McDonald. When it arrived, I stormed my way into it because it was the only ride I had into town. McDonald asked the paramedic if his arm was broke. The paramedic answered, “I don’t know, but it’s deformed.” That made us laugh for the first time in a while.

They checked us at the emergency room in Crossville while we waited for Larry, who had decided to head our way, to pick us up. He had a heck of a time too, as the interstate was closed coming from the west as well. When he arrived, I was sitting in a chair. McDonald had his arm in a sling. Jeff was sitting in a wheelchair and looking like Rocky Balboa after his first fight with Apollo Creed.

We were all nervous on the way home but finally made it at 6 in the morning.

After several operations, Jeff is back to normal, except for some false teeth. McDonald’s arm healed but only after he missed a season of senior softball. I was sore for a while but had no injuries. We have been to many basketball and football games since, and the terror of that night is slowly fading away. However, we still talk about that night as we go down the interstate, and I always look at the spot where the truck created a wall across the road. The spot where we lived several hours in our own disaster movie.

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On Top of the Tornado

3 Mar

Storms swept across Tennessee today and left some destruction in their wake. Tornado warnings and watches were all over as the map turned green, orange and red. Thankfully, not much happened around my house, but it reminded me of a time that I found myself on top of the tornado. This tornado to be specific:

In 2008, my girlfriend of the time and I traveled to Atlanta for the Southeastern Conference basketball tournament. We hit the afternoon session to see my favorite team, the University of Tennessee, win a close game. As it ended, fans from all of the teams filed out of the Georgia Dome in anticipation of the night session and more excitement to come. However, we had other plans. Dinner reservations at the restaurant on top of our hotel, the kind that slowly turns so patrons can get a panoramic view of the city. After dinner and a few drinks, we would hit the lobby bar before turning in. As we got dressed and prepared for the evening, we could not anticipate what was really going to happen.

As we left the room, she asked if we should take our phones, and I said no because we weren’t even leaving the building. We took the special elevator to the top and exited into a crowded restaurant with people laughing and dishes clanking. With a little time to wait for a table, we found a seat, ordered some drinks and watched the sky light up in the distance. Lightning was everywhere, but it was miles away. At no point did anyone think that it would have an effect on us. Then, it happened. I noticed a strange haze outside and suddenly saw a large piece of something fly by. I immediately grabbed my girlfriend’s arm and said let’s go. Why?

I could only say one word. Tornado.

As we moved it hit the hotel. Diners screamed and began to panic. Chandeliers swayed, hitting the ceiling with each swing. The building was swaying as well. Not a good feeling when you are 73 stories high.

People immediately began running down the stairs thinking that they could beat the fall if the building collapsed. There was no way I was getting trampled in that stampede, so we stayed behind and rode the elevator down with the restaurant staff. By then, the tornado had passed and the electricity had not gone out. It was the slowest elevator ride ever because we really didn’t know if we would make it all the way down. Luckily, we did, and, when the doors opened, we found a lobby turned into a refugee camp. People who had been on the street came straggling in covered with water, dirt, debris and with haggard looks on their faces. It was a disaster movie come to life.

As people continued to pour in, we learned what happened after the tornado hit. It traveled down the street, wreaking havoc along the way, and hit the Georgia Dome where a basketball game was being played. Fans and players scrambled as the roof was ripped apart and pieces fell on top of them. I realized that my dad would have been watching the game and seen the carnage. I didn’t have a phone and was banned from going to the upper floors. Knowing that my parents were home worrying, I could kick myself for leaving my phone behind, but I got lucky again. Sitting on the floor across from me was a man from my hometown. I used his phone to call home, and my parents relayed what they were seeing on television. It was hell outside, and we were lucky to be alive.

After several hours, we were allowed to go to our room and got there at the same time as the people next to us. When they opened the door, they stood with shocked looks on their faces. Like moths to a flame, we followed them in and saw their entire window blown out. We were standing in an open room 40 stories in the air. Lucky once more, our room was untouched.

We left the next day and, for the first time, realized what we had found ourselves in. Debris was piled on all of the streets, and demolition workers had cleared a path on one street to get people to the interstate. It was like driving through an apocalyptic landscape, and we were scared. The shock and adrenaline had worn off, and reality set in. We came close to death and never realized it.

Lucky has been used a lot in this post, but that is an understatement. It’s been four years, and I still don’t have adequate words to describe it.

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Picture This – Bobcat Bite

27 Feb

Each May, myself and a few other professors (Dave, Fred and Pete) take students on a field trip to Santa Fe, New Mexico. Over a span of two weeks, we explore the surrounding area and provide the students with information in our fields of study. Dave, a business professor, talks about the economy of the region and how it changed during the centuries. Fred, an anthropologist, specializes in Native American cultures and oversees the trip. Pete, a biologist, tells us about the land, plants and animals of the area. I, as the historian, attempt to bring all of this together and tell the story of the region and its people.

However, eating is the highlight of the trip for all of us. We hit some of the best restaurants in Santa Fe and Albuquerque in an attempt to introduce the students to fine New Mexican cuisine. They think good Mexican food can be found at Taco Bell and the millions of locally owned Mexican restaurants in our area. I am convinced they are all owned by the same person because they all have the Speedy Gonzales special. At any rate, when they get back to Tennessee their taste buds have been spoiled with real peppers, sauces, tamales, burritos…the list goes on and on.

With that being said, one of our favorite places doesn’t serve Mexican food, from New or Old Mexico. In business since the 1950s, Bobcat Bite is a small, pink building on the outskirts of Santa Fe that hides heaven within its walls. In the picture, that’s me and Dave salivating before we go in. And, what’s waiting for us inside? Green chile cheeseburgers. These are 10 ounces of ground beef covered with cheese and drowned in green chile sauce. I don’t even have the words to describe how delicious it is. All I know is that it is so good that we go more than once on our trips.

The restaurant has been featured in GQ, Bon Appetit, and Travel and Leisure. But, I don’t have to read those articles to know what to do after I write my name on the chalkboard (being small there is usually a wait). With a little luck, I will get a seat at the lunch counter with a view at the surrounding mountains. From here, there is also a view of the kitchen and the wonderful things happening back there. Then, I order the cheeseburger that I described and an order of fries. They also have steaks, but that really isn’t the point. When the goodness is placed in front of me, I dig in and enter hamburger, cheese, green chile and grease paradise.

If you ever find yourself in Santa Fe, then do yourself a favor and head to Bobcat Bite. Get a cool t-shirt while you are there.

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Picture This – Holcomb Community Park

31 Jan

Cities all over the country have parks dedicated in the honor of local citizens, and many of them have the same attributes as this one – benches, trees, walking trail and plenty of grass for picnics. Compared to other parks, this one is small, as it sits in a triangle of crossing streets. It is as if the small town of Holcomb, Kansas needed to do something with land that had been cut off from use and thought a small greenway would be a perfect solution.

However, this park does not honor a founding family or a local politician. It is dedicated to the family of Herb and Bonnie Clutter, which was slaughtered when their home was invaded by robbers in 1959. Tragedies such as this happen in cities all over the nation as well, and as years pass those incidents, also tragically, fade from the memories of those communities. In today’s world, we seem to be desensitized to the violence that happens around us. Bridges are named for fallen soldiers, but we hardly think about them as we pass by the signs. There may be other parks honoring murder victims, but they must be few and far between. So, why did the citizens of Holcomb build a park in honor of the Holcomb’s? Because several years after the attack, the murder in rural Kansas became known to people throughout the world.

After reading a newspaper article about the crime. Truman Capote became mesmerized by the story. He convinced Harper Lee, his childhood friend, to travel to Holcomb and investigate the murder. The result was “In Cold Blood”, a book that many believe began the “True Crime” genre. The writing of the book and the book itself have also been the subject of several movies. In my opinion, the work of Capote and his role in the overall story has come to overshadow the actual crime. As I drove around the small town and walked around the park, I did not think of the Holcomb’s or the men who were convicted of their murders. The question that kept running through my mind was:

Truman Capote came here?

The few people I saw stared at my rental car with the Tennessee tags and gave me the “what are you doing here?” look. And, I am sure they are used to a few people stopping by because of the town’s notoriety. I can’t imagine the reaction of the citizens of 1959 Holcomb when Truman Capote – he of the high society and fashionable side of New York City – arrived with his peculiarities. Likewise, I can’t imagine Capote’s thoughts when he arrived in a little town surrounded by nothing but flat plains. A more odd meeting of cultures is difficult to think about.

Despite of the strangeness of it all, or maybe because of it, I suggest a stop by the park to anyone who finds themself in the vicinity of Holcomb. Take a stroll around the walking trail or sit on a bench and take yourself back to 1959. Picture Capote and Lee hanging around town and interviewing people. Think about the reaction of the authorities when the pair walk in and start asking questions. And, imagine the journey that the writers took to dig deeper into a newspaper story. However, do not forget the Clutter family; the crime that struck down parents and two children; and the two other children left to live with the pain and the constant, best-selling reminder of the horror of their lives.

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Picture This – Saguaro Cactus

25 Jan

I have noticed that most blogs follow a theme. Some people write about cooking while others write about books. There are blogs about music, history, relationships and even adult entertainment. This blog really doesn’t follow a set pattern. I simply write about what’s on my mind at that particular moment. I have made attempts at being witty, serious, thoughtful and insightful, but lately I have found myself struggling to come up with things to write about. I don’t want to force anything because blogs should flow naturally. With that in mind, I have been trying to come up with some new ideas. Actually, I have been staying awake at night with ideas floating through my head. Does that mean I am addicted? I don’t know, but a thematic idea has cropped up. Occasionally, I will click a random photograph in my computer and write about it. This will be the first go at it, so here is a picture.

Saguaro Cacti are found in southern Arizona and can live 250 years. Due to the numerous westerns filmed in the area, the cacti have become iconic symbols of the American West. The plotlines of films made moviegoers believe that the cacti could be found throughout the southwestern United States. In fact, the best place to see them up close is in the land surrounding Tucson, Arizona. When this photograph was taken, I was walking through the sand and around the vegetation while my girlfriend at the time stood on the path. As a person with an intense fear of bugs, the sounds made by the insects in the area were freaking her out. I must admit that the clicking sounds reminded me of some of the sound effects I have heard in alien movies. With the constant noise in the air, we took some photographs and moved on down the road. Our next stop was the Old Tucson Movie Lot and Studio, home to the movies that made these cacti and this landscape famous.

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Dance Hall Days

18 Jan

Several posts ago, I chronicled my graduate career and how I came to study prostitution in the American West. It’s not the industry that I meant to study, but I have found it to be an interesting topic for myself and my students. A few posts later, I began to share some of my research by introducing my readers to the women who worked in the brothels, the highest level of the industrial “whorearchy”. This post leaves the brothels and follows the women into the next work place, the dance halls.

In the American West, the younger and least experienced women worked in the brothels, the houses that catered to the wealthier men of a community. When the earning abilities of these women faltered, they moved from the brothels and into the dance halls, or saloons. The mythical representation of these establishments are depicted in almost every western movie, and saloon women are often used as background for the movie scenes. This is not too far removed from reality as saloon owners hired women to do just that – serve as scenery. Women were hired to be part of the decor and to attract customers. They danced with patrons for a fee and sometimes entertained by singing for tips. They had conversations with men who may be sitting alone and typically pressured them to uy watered-down drinks at inflated prices. (Not unlike Hooters) The dancing fees and obviously the drinks went into the coffers of the dance hall.

Women in these establishments did not earn as much money as those in the brothels because men usually did not go to saloons looking for sex. They were there to gamble and drink. If they wanted to have sex, then they would have gone to a brothel or, if that was unaffordable, to a crib, which I will blog about later. As a result, saloon women had to work hard to induce men to take them upstairs and pay them for sex.

Saloons and dance halls were everywhere in the West, but perhaps the most famous of the time was the Birdcage Theater in Tombstone, Arizona, a town famous for the Gunfight at the Ok Corral. The theater derived its name from the balcony boxes, which resembled birdcages, that overlooked the floor and the stage. Due to a lack of rooms, prostitutes performed their services in these boxes with the curtains drawn. Last summer, I visited Tombstone and toured the Birdcage. It is an interesting tour and showed firsthand that the boxes are aptly named.

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For the Birds

14 Jan

Over the holidays, my brother took his family to Orlando to visit the various theme parks. They hit all of the Disney ones – Magic Kingdom, Epcot, Hollywood Studios. Then, they headed over to Universal to experience the Islands of Adventure in general and the Wizarding World of Harry Potter specifically. They experienced thrills and chills; waited in long lines because it was the busiest week of the year; and, saw plenty of muggles dressed like wizards. However, they all agreed (except for one) that the funniest thing happened at a concession stand.

To set up the story, I need to explain my brother’s family. It is the statistical norm with the parents and two kids. The oldest son is 17 and reminds every one of Sheldon on “The Big Bang Theory”. I realize that it sounds like bragging, but he honestly is the smartest person I know. He aces all of his classes and is line for the Ivy League. His brother is 14 and is as much a smart ass as his older brother is smart. The young one is always making wisecracks and thinks that he has a way with the women. In short, he is full of himself. With this dynamic, these two are on each other all the time.

So, there they are roaming around Universal and heading toward Harry Potter World when they spy a concession serving cinnamon and sugar on a stick. I have no idea what it looks like, but it has to taste awesome. Of course, both of them want one. They mosey up to the bar; order their sticks; and, turn to walk away. That’s when a huge bird swoops down from behind; grabs the youngest one’s stick; and, before he realizes it, is munching on the stick in the top of a tree. My nephew stands there stunned as dozens of people, including muggles dressed as wizards, burst out laughing. One kid with a wand starts saying, “No refunds! No refunds!” My brother, his wife and my other nephew all agreed that it was the highlight of the trip.

Amazingly, the concession stand workers say that was the fourth time it had happened that day. Birds hang around all of the time and steal people’s food. Despite the claims of the wand-kid, they gave him another stick which he crouched over and protected like gold. Perhaps, they should get Harry and the gang to put a spell on the birds and make them like broccoli or some other unfun food.

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Nashville Nights (And Days)

12 Jan

As my last post indicated, I have been lucky enough to travel throughout the United States and struck up conversations with people from all regions and all walks of life. When I speak, they never fail to ask where I am from. I suppose it is due to my southern accent. Although I live in a suburb, I always say Nashville because most everyone knows where that is. Most everyone has a preconceived notion of it as well. Either, everyone here wears cowboy hats and sings, or everyone here wears cowboy hats and watches Hee Haw. Well, there are plenty of people here who have jobs outside of the music industry. Hee Haw hasn’t been on television in decades. And, the only people I see wearing cowboy hats are the tourists.

Obviously, Nashville, nicknamed Music City, is known far and wide for country music and it has been the driving force behind the city for decades. However, there is more to our fair city than that. It is a cosmopolitan city with a thriving scene built around art, dining, and various forms of entertainment that includes all kinds of music. I have written a couple of posts about places to which I have traveled. Now, I want to tell would be travelers what they may find around here.

What Every Tourist Must Do

People come to Nashville to discover the roots of country music and maybe see somebody famous along the way. The quest needs to begin at the Ryman Auditorium, the mother church of country music, where the Grand Ole Opry was broadcast for decades. The radio show made Nashville the country capital of the world, and a backstage tour of the music hall is essential. Behind the Ryman sits a row of Honky Tonks that have become favorite tourist hangouts. This is where you will see the cowboy hats. Each bar is essentially the same with live music and plenty of alcohol. However, Tootsie’s Orchid Lounge is the destination for most. It gained fame as the place where Opry performers spent time between sets. Legend has it that Willie Nelson was so despondent about his singing career that he walked out of Tootsie’s and laid in the middle of the street. There are no famous people there now, but it is a fun place to go.

The performers of the past no longer haunt Tootsie’s, but they can be learned about at the Country Music Hall of Fame, a great museum with priceless artifacts. To find singers in their natural habitat, a trip to Music Row is required. If you are lucky, then you may be able to see someone going in or out of a recording session. More than likely, your sightings will only include some giant statues of nudes. However, I have seen more celebrities at Green Hills Mall, an upscale shopping destination, than anywhere else.

Being a historian, I must mention some locations that do not involve history. Nashville was prominent city long before the music industry existed, and several historic sites reflect this. The first would be the Hermitage, home to President Andrew Jackson. It is a good place to learn about one of our most powerful presidents and of life in the south before the Civil War. A second would be the Belle Meade plantation. Like the Hermitage, it is a pre-Civil War home with a distinction. Every Triple Crown winning horse is descended from a horse on the plantation. Our legislature, in its infinite wisdom, outlawed gambling and drove the thriving thoroughbred industry to Kentucky.

What the Locals Do

Nashville residents like live music as much as tourists do, but it may not be country or at Tootsie’s. There are several options that locals enjoy.

The Bluebird is pseudo-touristy and fun. Songwriters sit in the round; talk about their songs; and play them. Plenty of alcohol is served, but it is more of a classroom atmosphere as talking is not allowed. It is an intimate setting of the true music industry.

Sambuca, in the Gulch, is one of my favorites. A restaurant but more bar, it has a live bands of different genres throughout the week.

Bourbon Street Blues Club sits in Printer’s Alley, an area with a history of underworld mystique. For good blues and fabulous guitar playing, this is a great place to go.

However, the Schermerhorn Symphony Center is my favorite place to listen to music. A state of the art music hall, it is home to the Nashville Symphony and hosts performers, both classical and otherwise, from all over the world.

Of course, Nashville has a lot of watering holes where live music is not played, but they are cool hangouts nonetheless. Many of these are located in Midtown. Losers. Winners. Broadway Brewhouse. South Street. The list goes on and one. Taylor Swift also lives in the area, so a sighting could take place.

Up the street, there are other great hangouts such as Tin Roof and Whiskey Kitchen.

What Locals Do for Non-Music Entertainment

Obviously, man cannot live on music and liquor alone, and Nashville provides other forms of diversion as well. Small art galleries dot the city map, but the Frist Center remains the center of Nashville’s art community. Housed in the old post office, it hosts collections from the best museums in the world. Cheekwood Mansion also hosts artistic and historical collections and currently houses an exhibition of western artifacts from the Buffalo Bill Cody Museum.

Nashville is also home to many parks, the most famous of which is Centennial Park. Created during the city’s centennial celebration, it is home to an exact replica of the Parthenon in Greece. Why is the Parthenon in Nashville? Because the city has another nickname, Athens of the South, due to the number of universities in the area.

However, for a really good time, go to the Belcourt Theater, an old movie house that has been refurbished. It now serves as a viewing room for independent films, documentaries and movie classics. Also, there is a stage for intimate musical performances by some very famous people.

Where the Locals Eat

Visitors to Nashville can always eat at the Hard Rock Cafe, Margaritaville, or Cracker Barrel, which was founded in my hometown. However, to get a true taste of the city people should branch out. The following are a few of my favorites.

Bricktop’s – Americana food with a little flair. It is a great local hangout with a cool bar.

Virago – The best sushi in the city and a porch/bar with a great view of downtown.

Tayst – Serves organic food produced by local farmers. The best dish is the bread pudding made from a Krispy Kreme doughnut.

Rotier’s – Legend says that Jimmy Buffett wrote “Cheeseburger in Paradise” about this place. Enough said.

Pancake Pantry – Nashville’s favorite breakfast spot. Be ready to stand in line.

Eastland Cafe – Americana food with a lot of flair.

I Dream of Weenie – Any kind of hot dog you want served out of a 1960s mini-van.

There you have it – a guide to the Nashville experience from a person who has been around Nashville all of his life. Nashville has changed a lot in my lifetime, and it keeps changing for the better. Everyone is always welcome, and they can even bring their cowboy hats if they want.

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Touching Them All (50 States That Is)

10 Jan

I have been lucky enough to do quite a bit of traveling. As I was growing up, my parents took road trips for family vacations and took me to various places on the map. Because of them I was able to visit each of the states in the U.S. by the age of 24. Several posts on this blog have chronicled the places they took me and the places I have visited in adulthood. This post does the same but with a different tack. I will list the states in alphabetical order and match them with my favorite location in each. Many states will be difficult to limit while some will be difficult to list at all. Obviously, the list will have a historical leaning, but there will also be other types of places. I will not write any descriptions. However, if anyone wants to know more about something then give me a comment. I will be happy to post about it later. Here goes:

Alabama = The All Steak House in Cullman

Alaska = Glacier Bay

Arizona = Jeep Tour in Canyon de Chelly

Arkansas = The Farmer’s Market in Little Rock

California = The Green Door Room in the Mitchell Brothers O’Farrell Theatre in San Francisco

Colorado = The Strater Hotel in Durango

Connecticut = Yale University Campus in New Haven

Delaware = The Coastal Drive Up Highway 1

Florida = The Thomas Edison and Henry Ford Winter Estates in Fort Myers

Georgia = The Varsity in Atlanta

Hawaii = The Arizona Memorial at Pearl Harbor

Idaho = The Oasis Rooms Museum in Wallace

Illinois = Abraham Lincoln’s Home in Springfield

Indiana = The Indianapolis Motor Speedway in Indianapolis

Iowa = John Wayne’s Birthplace in Winterset

Kansas = The Kirby House Restaurant in Abilene

Kentucky = The Louisville Slugger Museum and Factory in Louisville

Louisiana = The Town Square of Carencro

Maine = The L.L. Bean Store in Freeport

Maryland = The United States Naval Academy in Annapolis

Massachusetts = The House of Seven Gables in Salem

Michigan = The Palace of Auburn Hills

Minnesota = The Softball Fields in Brooklyn Park

Mississippi = Square Books in Oxford

Missouri = Harry S Truman Home in Independence

Montana = Last Stand Hill at the Battle of Little Big Horn

Nebraska = A Gas Station in North Platte

Nevada = The Blackjack Tables at the Mirage

New Hampshire = Where the Old Man of the Mountain Once Stood

New Jersey = The Meadowlands in East Rutherford

New Mexico = The High Mesa Trail in Chaco Canyon

New York = Niagara Falls on the Niagara River

North Carolina = The Lobby at the Grove Park Inn

North Dakota = Fort Abraham Lincoln in Mandan

Ohio = The Professional Football Hall of Fame in Canton

Oklahoma = The Oklahoma City National Memorial in Oklahoma City

Oregon = Crater Lake National Park

Pennsylvania = The Hotel Hershey in Hershey

Rhode Island = The Breakers in Newport

South Carolina = The Five Points District in Columbia

South Dakota = Mount Moriah Cemetery in Deadwood

Tennessee = My Mom’s Kitchen

Texas = Keel Drug Store in Ballinger

Utah = Monument Valley in the Navajo Nation

Vermont = Interstate 91 from Massachusetts to Maine

Virginia = Mount Vernon near Old Town Alexandria

Washington = The Space Needle in Seattle

West Virginia = West Virginia University Campus in Morgantown

Wisconsin = The Softball Fields in Stevens Point

Wyoming = The Old Faithful Inn in Yellowstone National Park

If I could choose one place in each state to go, then this is the list. Obviously, other people will have a different list. Let me know what a few of those locations might be.

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