Country Fried Road Trip!

Happy Endings

2009-09-02T16:32:00.000-07:00

Well, it's all over. Jon and I have been back in LA for almost a week and, after a little bit of sleep, a lot of vegetables, and some exercise--we're starting to officially recover from the Country Fried Road Trip!

Thanks for coming along with us and sharing our little adventure. Some things we learned along the way:

1. Segways are totally awesome, but they kind of make your feet hurt. That said, I need one.

2. Elvis is Everywhere.

3. Shenandoah Caverns, home of the world's most frightening exhibit, is actually pretty cool. We got this comment after mocking the shit out of them for days on end:

(no wonder you guys are unemployed!) I am the Dir. of Marketing for Shenandoah Caverns and I was reading your Blog yesterday on my crackberry (google alerts) at the eye doctor sitting among perfect strangers in the waiting room LMAO, like out loud! You guys are hilarious. They didn't even have to dilate my pupils. Thanks for having so much fun at our Family of Attractions

Do I believe he's the marketing director? Yes. Do I believe he's also one of the parade floats? Absolutely. Probably this one:

Thank you for enjoying our blog, Director of Marketing Guy. Also: Please don't eat us. Thanks.

That's about all I've got. I'll leave you with a little slide show--set appropriately to an Elvis tune-- that will take you on the Country Fried Road Trip one final time. Please enjoy!

We'll see you next year!!!

Tenness-Eating

2009-08-30T13:25:00.000-07:00

Here's the thing about the final few days on the Country Fried Road Trip...the best part was the food. Jeff and I sampled some of the best Southern Cookin' Tennessee had to offer and we lived to tell the tale.

Granted, we didn't really get much in the way of leafy green vegetables, so we might get scurvy. And yes, they love their salt in the south, so we might get adema. But we didn't care. The food was so delicious, so scrumptious, and so mouth-wateringly flavorful that we threw caution to the wind and just ate our faces off for days on end. In fact, I'm blaming our near-constant food coma as to the reason why our blogging slowed down over the past few days.

The morning after Dollywood, Jeff and I traveled across the highway to "Breakfast House," which beckoned us with the promise of 45 types of breakfast.

With all of the choices laid out before us (the menu actually offered OVER 45 types of Breakfast), I got overwhelmed and ended up trying the Buckwheat pancakes and Jeff ordered the Peanut Butter pancakes.

As it turns out, the peanut butter was not IN the pancakes...it was ON TOP of the pancakes. In chip form.

It was all very nice, but we were slightly underwhelmed by the 45 types of breakfast. It turns out that just because you offer 45 types of breakfast...doesn't mean any of them are anything to blog home about.

The Breakfast House meal also marked the beginning of our struggles to find a good cup of coffee in Tennessee. Our waitress was lovely and brought us over a whole thermos full of coffee to enjoy during our meal. But it was coffee that tasted like burning, so we barely could finish a cup.

Later that day, on the way to the Heartbreak Hotel in Memphis, we stopped off in Nashville for a delicious dinner at Sylvan Park.

Sylvan Park is what the good people of the south call a "Meat and Three." This means that you order a meat of your choice and then you get to choose three sides (typically vegetable based).

Since this is the "Country Fried Road Trip," I had to get the Country Fried Steak as my "meat." For my "three," I chose Stewed Tomatoes, "freshly baked" Squash, and Green Beans.

The country fried steak tasted like a flattened burger smothered in brown gravy. The stewed tomatoes were exceptionally sweet and featured bread crumbs for no discernible reason. The green beans appeared to be soaked in meat juice of some kind. But the squash was the best pudding I've ever tasted. Creamy, sweet, and juicy. I couldn't get enough. I wanted to lick my plate clean, but I restrained myself since I was around "real people."

Jeff went for the meat loaf smothered in sauce, creamy potato salad, mac-n-cheese, and an iceberg lettuce salad.

Jeff shoveled all of his food into his pie hole too, but left enough room to have something that Sylvan Park was truly famous for: their Chess Pie.

Chess Pie is a southern tradition that neither Jeff nor I had ever heard of before this trip. The filling consists of egg, butter, vanilla, sugar, and corn meal. The pie is exceptionally sweet and tastes like a moist corn bread custard. I did a little digging to find out why Chess Pie is called Chess Pie and found that there is quite an argument over its origins. The "Chess" in the Chess Pie has nothing to do with the game of Chess. Some people claim it's some derivation of an English Cheese Tart...except there is no CHEESE in Chess Pie. Others claim it was named after Chester, England. But my favorite story behind Chess Pie goes something like this...a man asked his cook what he was baking and the chef goes "Oh not much, it's jus' pie." Since it happened in the south, the "jus" sounded like "chess" and so Chess Pie was born.

The Chess Pie at Sylvan Park was indeed full of deliciousness, but it was SO sweet we could barely finish it. It tastes like diabetes...in pie form.

The next day, during our time spent at Graceland, Jeff and I stopped into one of Graceland's many faux-retro-eateries to try out Elvis' favorite sandwich: the grilled Peanut Butter and Banana sandwich.

Since we wanted to have a proper southern lunch a little later, we split one sandwich.

And polished it off in the span of a minute.

An hour later (after seeing Elvis' plane and his "private" life), we were starving once again...so we set out to find a delicious Southern BBQ joint in Memphis. Luckily, the security guard at the Heartbreak Hotel suggested that we go to "Rendezvous" in downtown Memphis for our midday meal.

Rendezvous was located in an alley in the midst of Memphis. There were interlopers lurking in about, so we almost didn't make it there...but driven by the smell of charcoal and pork fat, we faced certain danger and forged our way to the local eatery.

As it turned out, Rendezvous isn't technically open for lunch. But the man who greeted us by the front door said that if we wanted ribs, we could come in a sit down. We did indeed want ribs, so we sat. In the process of ordering drinks, the man from the front asked us if we wanted a "small" or a "full." He even showed us the difference between the small and the full by using our napkins. Since we were both thirsty, Jeff and I ordered a full.

Well, apparently the man from the front was referring to our rib order NOT our drink order, because moments later...out came two giant FULL baskets of ribs.

I took one look at the giant plate of ribs and told Jeff, "Oh. Whatever we don't eat we can save for a late night eat." And so, we dug right in and began chewing away.

The ribs at Redezvous are not drenched in sauce. Instead, they are rubbed in spices and cooked on a real charcoal grill. Below the ribs was a pool of tangy liquid (either meat juice or vinegar or some combination of the two). It didn't matter what that juice was, because it made the already extraordinarily scrumptious ribs taste even better.

It was a good thing that the man from the front confused us with the size of our order, because Jeff and I both ended up eating the full order of ribs. There were no leftovers for a "late night eat." As we wiped our mouths clean with Rendezvous branded 'Wet Wipes,' Jeff declared "This is the best meal of the trip." I couldn't have agreed more.

Drunk on rib juice, Jeff and I eventually maneuvered our fat asses out of Memphis and back to Nashville.

By the time we were ready to eat dinner, everything seemed to be closed...so we ended up going down to the touristy area of Nashville (Broadway Street).

Jeff and I stumbled into a joint called "Jack's BBQ," where the man behind the meat counter started doing bits about how they were out of every meat. Jeff did a bit right back at the guy, pretended to be all disappointed about the lack of meat. I'm sure it was all veryfunny.

The BBQ brisket could have been more than passable, but we were still so in love with our Rendezvous ribs that we could barely focus on anything else.

The next morning (after our night out on the town in Nashville), Jeff and I woke up on our final day of the trip and decided that we needed pancakes at "A Nashville Tradition." The tradition that is "Pancake Pantry."

Despite a line that spilled out onto the sidewalk, Jeff and I were seated within 15 minutes of our arrival.

We were served by an adorable older waitress who referred to us as "babies" the entire meal.

I ordered the Pancake Pantry's famous Sweet Potato Pancakes, grits, and sugar cured Southern Ham...while Jeff went with the Sugar & Spice Pancakes along with a side of Home Fries.

I have run out of words to describe the morning meal we scarfed down. Needless to say, it was filled with devine delectable decadence. (But the coffee was still terrible)

Post Pancake Pantry, Jeff and I thought we were done with food for the day. But then inside the Nashville Airport, we found ourselves standing in front of another Nashville tradition: "Swett's"

"Swett's" is a popular chain of Southern Cookin' restaurants in Nashville (and was even one of the closed places that we tried to eat at the night before).

Despite our location, we able to enjoy a meal that didn't involve fries at McDonald's.

I sampled the Mac-N-Cheese, Corn, and Baked Beans...while Jeff had a BBQ pork sandwich he described as "actually very good."

With our bellies about to burst, Jeff and I boarded the plane back to Los Angeles. We couldn't felt more "country fried" if we had been dipped in batter, deep fried in animal fat, and served with a slice of Chess Pie.

Nashville: The Athens of the South. (But not the one in Georgia.)

2009-08-29T16:11:00.000-07:00

Jon and I arrived in Nashville on Wednesday night, and I don't mind telling you that we were both pretty much crawling to the finish line. But, we were determined to rally for our final night on the Country Fried Road Trip! And so, after dinner downtown, we walked a few blocks from our hotel to the Nashville Gayborhood. We weren’t really sure what to expect. As Jon pointed out, when you’re in LA or NY or Chicago, there are just people everywhere all the time. But even when we were in the “downtown” part of Nashville for dinner, we didn’t see a whole lot of folks. In fact, at 8PM, a few of the places we had called for dinner were either already closed for the night, or were preparing to. So the city was pretty much... quiet, and we were scared of another Santa Fe incident.

However, we were pleasantly surprised when we arrived at a place called Tribe. It was bigger than I thought, and not at all sad like I had expected--and there were a good number of people in there for a Wednesday night. Of course, it was Drag Queen Night...

...and there was a toilet in the middle of the floor (for a contest, thank God). By now, I think you know my policy on Drag Queens and potties, so you won't be surprised to learn that we had a drink and decided to explore the rest of the small strip of 'mo bars. First, we checked out "Blue Genes." Of course, the moment we heard the screeching sounds of karaoke pouring out of the place, we immediately turned around and ran away. The only other place on the strip was charging a cover, and so we went back to Tribe (which was now Drag-Queen less) and ordered up another round with our new bartender, Chad--who was kind enough to take this photo:

Although he was no Jesse, this kid was pretty much a mess. He was young--maybe 21--and he's one of those guys that is constantly looking around the room and, once he catches someone looking in his direction, immediately begins dancing and humping the air as if to say, "HEY! Look at me!!! LOVE ME!!!" Since he's a bartender, these antics seem like they might get exhausting. As Jon said, "Mommy and Daddy didn't pay enough attention to someone."

He seemed genuinely nice, if not misguided, and we wanted to show you a photo of him. However, we were afraid that if we asked for a picture, he'd take his clothes off and start humping everything. And so, using the methods Jon and I learned while at the Spy Museum in DC a mere five days prior (even though it seemed more like five months ago), we managed to snap a few good ones:

Like I said... we were pretty loopy by this point and when Jon asked what time I thought it was, I said "Midnight-ish." Turns out, it was only 10:40PM. Between driving for five days straight, doing about three days' worth of activities each day, and Chad dancing up a storm around us, we decided that it was maybe time to call it a night. We wanted to explore daytime Nashville before hopping our flight back to LA, and so as we were finishing our drinks, I asked Chad if there was anything we simply MUST see during our remaining few hours in Nashville. Something fun, something weird... something all people must do in Nashville that isn't Opry-related.

He thought about it for a while--a long while--and eventually decided that we should go and see the downtown area (where we had just come from) and maybe do some karaoke. Is this really the best Nashville has to offer, Chad?

The next day, Jon and I discovered that Chad neglected to mention THE GIGANTIC REPLICA OF THE PARTHENON located about two miles from the bar.

Really, Chad? Really?

Anyway, we explored the exterior of the Parthenon...

.. but couldn't seem find our way inside--Which is weird, cuz it had a few sets of 24 foot tall, 7 foot wide doors:

As we were wandering around, a crazy woman started screaming at us about ice cream. Jon was on the phone with Anonymous Ra and tried to tell her that we didn't want her ice cream, because we had just eaten 11 pounds of pancakes (Mine tasted like Christmas!)

But she was undeterred, and began to shout: "Maybe you didn't hear me. I SAID FREE ICE CREAM!"

Terrified, we walked over and discovered she's part of the wacky morning show on Nashville's Mix 92.9!

Clint, Anna, Kim!

As we chatted with our main harasser (Kim) about our vacation and LA, she told us that she's very good friends with Bean of KROQ--an awesome LA radio station (with Bean being half of their morning show.) Within moments, Kim revealed that they were actually exes. As it turns out, people in the South like to tell you deeply personal things five seconds after you meet them.

They were also kind enough to tell us where the entrance to the Parthenon was, while giving us lots of delicious ice cream that we did not want. So when we posed for this photo...

...I used the distraction as an opportunity to put mine down (Thanks again, Spy Museum!) but Jon was still carrying his...

... even as we approached the museum entrance. He was going to chuck it, but Kim was suddenly also at the museum entrance, glaring at him. Jon again tried to tell her that we had just eaten our faces off and she reluctantly took the ice cream back before frowning and walking off.

Awww, we're sorry, crazy radio lady!

Anyway, inside of the structure, we learned that this is the only full-scale replica of The Parthenon in the entire world. It was constructed for Tennessee's Centennial celebration in 1897, because Nashville is known as the "Athens of The South," due to the high number of universities there. I'm not sure how Athens, Georgia feels about this title, but I guess it's hard to argue with a 42 foot tall statue of Athena:

The beauty of this ancient Greek structure combined with the convenience of being right in the middle of America is really just...

... astonishing.

Overall, the I found the exhibits to be a lot friendlier than the ones we saw in Virginia...

...although Jon may not agree:
There are many busts that were recreated using castings of the originals in Greece...

...and as with all great art, you can kind of see at least a little part of yourself in it...

ParthenJon!

Even Greek Gods couldn't escape the horrors of Diabetes.

After leaving the Parthenon, Jon and I made our way around Nashville's Centennial Park...

... took in some more sights...

...

...and after making one final stop to a gay bar we didn't have time for on Wednesday evening, despite it having the best name ever...

...we sadly made our way to the Nashville airport...

...dropped off the car after 1309 miles...

...caused some trouble inside the airport...

...and headed back to Los Angeles...

...which is currently on fire.

Jon has one final post coming, and I am putting together a little video recounting our Country Fried Road Trip--so stay tuned! There is (somehow) more to come!

Day Five : Memphis to Nashville

2009-08-28T10:11:00.001-07:00

Mile 1065.6 - Seeya Heartbrea Hotel!

Mile 1074.6 - There is a pyramid in Memphis? A pyramid?

Mile 1074.8 - Oh it's the Pyramid Arena, which appears to be empty now. (Thanks Wikipedia!)

Mile 1074.9 - And look! Here's a Highway to Nowhere!

Mile 1077.5 - It's time for lunch at Charles Vergos' Rendezvous Ribs. Holy crap.

These are the best ribs ever.

Mile 1077.6 - Kooky Canucks. Big Taste! Big Food! Big Fun!

Drunk on Rib Juice, Jon becomes convinced that Kooky Canucks is mocking them.

Mile 1077.6 - You're oh so Gayoso!

Mile 1078.3 - Uh Toto, I don't think we are in a Blue State anymore.

Mile 1078.4 - Seeya Memphis! We're going to Nashville! Again.

Mile 1090.9 - We are stuck in Traffic. And Jon is stuck in a car with Jeff who is singing along to "The Skillet Lickers."

Mile 1145.88 - Thanks to magic of the mobile phones, Jeff and Jon check in to their flight while on the road.

Mile 1147.7 - Jeff suddenly declares, "Awww Funky!" Jon wonders what is going on. Jeff explains that we just passed a sign that for "Old Medina." Jon put Jeff in the Maximum Security section of Comedy Jail.

Mile 1153.7 - Thanks to the magic of the sun and the reflective surface of his iPod Touch, Jon blinds Jeff with his crotch.

Mile 1182.0 - We almost perish at the scariest Rest Stop in Tennessee.

They sell knife sharpeners by the cash register.

Serial Killers clearly hang out there.

Mile 1184.6 - Jon makes Jeff listen to Miley Cyrus' "Party in the U.S.A." He explains that the only reason he is playing the song is to have an excuse to post this video:

Jeff doesn't buy what Jon is selling.

Mile 1187.4 - So...Antik Haus is a place.

Mile 1224.0 - Lorretta Lynn Dude Ranch! We don't stop.

Mile 1282.7 - Jon does his "Who Wants to Be A Trillionaire" bit. A bit that he has been meaning to do, ever since Papa Ru gave him the One Trillion Dollar bill back in Delaware.

I don't know if you've heard, but Jon is a trillionaire...

...in Zimbabwe!

Mile 1289.9 - Jeff is horrified to find out that Jon has booked them into a hotel located on Demonbreun Street. He is convinced that our souls will be harvested in the middle of the night. Jon doesn't disagree with this assessment.

Mile 1290.6 - We've arrived at the Comfort Inn on Demonbreun Street in Nashville!

This is the end of the road for Country Fried Spiral Notebook. It's all VERY sad.

(Jeff and Jon's final posts to come later today...or tomorrow at the very latest.)

Full of Graceland

2009-08-27T23:40:00.000-07:00

After a day full of crazy, Jon and I arrived in Memphis late Tuesday evening, heading straight for the Heartbreak Hotel.

Conveniently located next door to Graceland, The Heartbreak Hotel itself boasts several Heavily-Elvis themed rooms for about five times the rate of a mere “Elvis tinged” room. We chose the latter, and inside we found pretty much what you’d find in any normal hotel room, along with a few extra Elvis photos...

...and some of these:

These are not for gum.

Jon and I woke up yesterday and immediately walked over to Graceland.

I was blown away by the amount of people that were there on a Wednesday morning. We bought our tickets--a package for six (6) different tour experiences, and we were on our way!

Everyone warned me that it wasn’t going to be as big as I thought… and so, I guess I was expecting something in the studio-apartment range. So I was actually was surprised by how big it was--definitely not a mansion by any stretch, but it's maybe a little bigger than my parents’ house...

...and decorated just as horrifically.

Inside, we were treated to not just gaudy items… but entire rooms full of, well, ugly. There's this heavily carpeted kitchen here...

...and this even more heavily carpeted "Jungle Room"...

...which actually has carpet on the ceiling.

And if the carpet doesn't kill you...

...the wall tapestries will.

I cant help but wonder: Would Elvis be alive today if he had a better interior decorator?

Anyway, we were also exposed to some of Elvis' costumes...

...some fan-made art...

...and, of course, the opportunity to buy anything even remotely Elvis related, including the chance to pay to play a round on The King's pool table...

...for the low-low cost of $100.00. (Which, of course, includes a Certificate of Authenticity and a Polaroid.)

Like I said earlier, I'm not a giant Elvis fan, but I thought I was aware of his hits. Except clearly...

...I had no idea just how many records he has sold. I think it's somewhere between 90 million and a 3 and a half bazillion.

As part of the tour, you can wander over to where Elvis is buried...

...which, conveniently, is located right by the meditation area, so fans could sit and reflect upon Elvis’ life and success and wonder where they went wrong.

"Will people come to MY house 32 years after I perish?"

Also available to see: dozens of elaborate fan-made memorials that were all very recently sent.

I'm guessing these things sort of just rotate out once they wilt or die, replaced by new ones after few days. Shocking.

After the main tour of Graceland, we went and checked out Elvis' car collection...

...saw his airplanes...

...after passing through security, of course....

...and got to see some pretty cool Elvis-related merchandise from back in the day:

"You're a Joik!"
"I know."

Despite our exhaustion and loopiness, Jon and I really started to get into this whole Elvis thing...

...but, as it turns out, we don't really look good in sequins.

The final stop on the tour was something called "Private Presley." We didn't know what this would be--it was located kind of off the Graceland property, so we weren't really sure what we were approaching. Would it be some sort of creepy and wholly inappropriate lesson on Elvis' bedroom habits? Would we be granted all access to his privates?

...and what, exactly, does "All Access" mean? We were both giddy with wonder as we made our way towards the strip-mall like building. You can imagine our disappointment when we discovered it was just a museum dedicated to Elvis' army life.

Bah.

Afterwards, we were starving, so Jon and I were going to hit one of the Official Memphis BBQ places we’d heard so much about.

There were some listed on the little Graceland Pamphlet and on our way out, we asked the security guard for directions to one of the places on the sheet. She sort of hesitated as she gave us the directions, so I asked, “How is that place?” Again, the hesitation. Jon asked: “Would you eat there?” She made it clear that while it was perfectly acceptable foodstuff, she had some other preferences. You can read all about that in Jon’s upcoming Tennessee Food Revue post.

As she told us about her favorite places in downtown Memphis, I handed her my parking pass for the Heartbreak Hotel and thanked her. She asked if we were done staying at the hotel and when she learned we were, she said “So you guys have left the building?” We nodded and she seemed genuinely sad.

And for a second, I was, too.

But mostly, I was hungry...

Shaking It Up in Gatlinburg

2009-08-27T21:00:00.001-07:00

I must admit that the morning after Dollywood, I was pretty exhausted. I couldn't wait to get on the road and head towards Memphis. Not like there was really any rush, but I just wanted to get the heck out of Pigeon Forge. I needed to put some distance between myself, “the Comedy Barn,” and the surprising number of Stars & Bars that popped up along the main drag.

Jeff had other plans. Plans that involved dragging me to the world's ONLY Salt and Pepper Shaker Museum in Gatlinburg, Tennessee.

For those not in the know, my fraternal grandmother collected Salt and Pepper shakers for years. My older sister, Rachel, was obsessed with them as a child, so when my grandmother moved out of her house and into my uncle's place...Rachel inherited the collection. Since then, it's nearly doubled in size to almost 200 pairs. I live with my sister, so I see more than my fair share of salt and pepper shakers nearly every day. The last thing I thought I wanted to do on vacation was drive out of the way to see more of them.

My lack of enthusiasm only managed to grow by leaps and bounds, when we got lost on our way there. It turned out that the museum website didn’t have an official address, only confusing directions that Jeff hadn’t been able to decipher. When Jeff called up the museum and asked for the address of their location, the woman who picked up the phone told Jeff that she “didn’t know.” I was ready to throw in the towel, but I couldn’t let Jeff (or my grandmother) down. Thanks to the help of the Google Maps Application on his Blackberry, Jeff was able to figure out an approximation of the museum’s location and we were back on track.

Within seconds of pulling up to the museum, I realized that Jeff was right and I was wrong. The outside of the museum was emblazoned with very persuasive testimonials of former museum patrons.

Clearly, the 20,000 treasures that lurked inside made for a transformative experience. And so, I entered the museum with a giddy excitement. Like a child at Christmas. Or like the time Jeff became bewitched by the hidden charms of Drunk Jesse.

Inside, we were greeted by Andrea Ludden, the owner/curator/founder of “The Salt and Pepper Shaker Museum.” Andrea was an adorable Belgian woman who appeared to be in her mid-sixties. She spoke with a thick French accent as she welcomed us to her museum during a quickly delivered speech (a speech that she had clearly delivered hundreds of times before). Andrea explained that she loved the creativity of the salt and pepper shakers and encouraged us to focus on said creativity during out tour of the multi-roomed museum.

Thanks to the power of the Internet, now you too can enjoy Andrea’s speech…

Room after room…shelf after shelf was filled to the brim with every kind of salt and pepper shaker imaginable.

Jeff's good cheer really PEPPED up Jon's SALTY mood.

Holy Salt and Pepper Shakers!

Who wants a Banana Surprise Salt And Pepper Shaker?

Buses for Bookie!

I have a sneaking suspicion that Andrea isn't Jewish.

Robo-Santa wants to "spice" up with holidays!

Who wants their salt and pepper served with a side of racial stereotyping?

It's a Dutch Wonderland of Salt and Pepper!

Unicorn Salt and Pepper Shakers! Rachel has one in the top left corner!

It's just like legendary Jack the Ass! Only not.

Some salt and pepper shakers were a little more extraordinary than others...

Every section was VERY organized and arranged by type.

We even learned the history of everyone's favorite brand of salt!

Jeff and I were not the first “Hollywood types” to visit the museum. This shrine to basic seasoning was featured on the Food Network’s “Unwrapped” in October 2, 2006. A moment that was clearly huge for Andrea, as signs commemorating the visit were posted all over the displays, including the appearance release...

...you know, just in case the "Unwrapped" camera crew comes back for "pick-ups" or something.

And even though the museum moved to this larger location a few years ago...

...it’s clear that the space is not big enough for Andrea’s collection.

The end of the tour did end on a sad note, when we discovered that Andrea wants to sell the museum:

Maybe it’s time for my sister to stop being a lawyer and move to Gatlinburg to launch her new career as museum curator?

As you may have gathered, I couldn’t be happier that Jeff convinced me to make this detour. By the end of our time at the world’s only salt and pepper shaker museum, I was no longer cranky. The sun seemed brighter, Tennessee seemed less terrible, and the idea of spending over seven hours in a car didn’t seem quite so daunting. I couldn’t wait to see how the rest of the day would…uh…“shake” out.

Greetings from Nashville

2009-08-26T23:24:00.003-07:00

From our friend Mandel...

After spending the day in Memphis, we're back in Nashville. We'll update you tomorrow!

Day Four, Part Two: Nashville, TN to Memphis, TN

2009-08-26T23:22:00.004-07:00

Mile 851.3 - Full of Chess Pie, Jon notices there are lots of runners here. Jeff wonders who or what they're running from. He looks in Ludo's direction.

Mile 853.3 - Stuck in Traffic. Bah.

Mile 856.1 - Bye, Nashville! We'll see you tomorrow! Memphis is 199 miles!!

Mile 894.7 - Guy in front of us does something.... but Jeff only writes down "Guy in front of us..." so.... yeah. There's that.

Mile 906.4 - I have no joke for this.

Mile 940.8 - Jon is a paranoid, crazy person. And that is no blie™.

Mile 966.9 - 90 miles 'til Memphis! Jon points out that the gas tank says it has 91 miles 'til empty. Jeff notices that Jon has a "look."
...Jeff is frightened.

Mile 974.6 - Jeff is relieved when we stop for gas. There's a Jesus T-shirt shrine here...

...He thanks it.

Mile 976.4 - Due to roadwork, we are forced to ride in the rumblestrips . Gah.

Mile 977.7 - Back on paved road.

Mile 982.4 - Jon is, for some reason, singing that this is the Dawning of the Age of Aquarius.

Mile 1005.0 - Jon notices we've gone over a thousand miles five miles ago!

Mile 1028.5 - Ohgod, it's raining!

Mile 1028.6 - aaaand now it's not.

Mile 1043.0 - Passing through uptown Memphis.

Mile 1057.4 - Pink Palace Museum is coming. we don't stop.

Mile 1062.7 - What happens in Vegas... started in Graceland. Really?

Mile 1065.6 - Arrival at the Heartbreak Hotel!!

Day Four, Part One: Pigeon Forge, TN to Nashville, TN

2009-08-26T18:00:00.001-07:00

Mile 610.5 - We're lost before we've even started.

Mile 612.0 - And now we are really on our way to the Salt and Pepper Museum.

Mile 615.4 - Leaving Pigeon Forge! Seeya shortly!

Mile 617.8 - Jeff refuses to watch for falling rocks.

Mile 618.6 - We are entering Gatlinburg!

Mile 619.7 - How can we be on both 321 North and 441 South at the same time?

Tennessee is very confusing.

Mile 621.2 - We've made it the Salt and Pepper Museum! It's the only one in the world!

Mile 621.3 - We're off once again!

Mile 621.4 - And we've stopped at "Coffee & Company" to blog for a bit. They tell us that we can only be connected to their internet for an hour and that there are no "plug-ins." We stay for two hours. Jeff almost gets stung by a bee. It's kind of terrible here.

Mile 624.8 - Tunnel!

Mile 630.2 - Hi Pigeon Forge! Again!

Mile 636.4 - Bye Pigeon Forge! Again!

Mile 637.2 - Jon starts discussing dinner possibilities in Nashville. "We can a Meat & Three. It's just meat...and three." Jeff is confused and amused.

Mile 638.5 - Some store is flying the Stars & Bars on their flagpole. Ugh. We definitely don't stop.

Mile 670.8 - Papermill Drive is NO Purple Peppermill!

We don't stop.

Mile 709.2 - Jon wakes up from his nap. Apparently, he's missed nothing and everything at once.

Mile 714.0 - Did we just drive into Central time? Did that just happen? Did we gain an hour? Do we win?

Mile 715.2 - Jon confirms that we did just drive into Central Time. We win!

Mile 732.3 - Jeff and Jon stop at McDonald's for a bathroom break and coffee at McCafe. Coffee continues to be just terrible Tennessee.

Mile 732.31 - Why are bologna biscuits a thing?

Mile 803.1 - We pass by a girl in a car that is going to a Jonas Brothers concert. How can we tell? Just look at her car...

...the message reads "Maria on the way to JB." (JB = Jonas Brothers) On the side car window there is another painting; it reads "Go Jonas!" (A little bit of online research reveals that the Jonas Brothers are playing Nashville tonight.)

Jeff thinks that the girl in the car looked "a little too handsome" and "a little too softball-y" to be going to a Jonas Brothers concert. Jon points out that even if the girl was a lesbian, she could still like the Jonas Brothers...but then he realizes how lame that sounds, because the Jonas Brothers are no Hanson.

Mile 813.4 - Liquor World! Jeff wants to go to there.

Mile 841.4 - Is that a Driving Ms. Daisy Shuttle?

Mile 841.6 - Yes.

Yes it is a Driving Ms. Daisy Shuttle.

Mile 844.9 - Demonbreun Street! Jeff is frightened.

Mile 846.1 - The Nashville dinner destination, Arnold's, is closed. Jeff and Jon regroup.

Mile 847.1 - There must be an explanation behind the sculpture in Buddy Killen Circle, but we're not sure it's ever going to top the one that Jon made up in his head.

Mile 847.2 - Buddy Killen Circle nearly kills us when it tries to push us onto Demonbreun Street. Jeff and Jon fight back.

Mile 847.8 - We turn onto West End Avenue. Jeff declares that we are "West End Girls" now. Jon declares that Jeff is an idiot.

Mile 851.3 - Dinnertime at Sylvan Park Restaurant! It's a Meat and Three!

Time to go on a break and eat some Chess Pie! (Not Cheese Pie, CHESS PIE. Really.)

Tennesseeing is Believing. Maybe.

2009-08-26T17:58:00.001-07:00

Jon and I have left the building: Elvis Presley's Heartbreak Hotel, that is.

We arrived there late last night after a long drive from Pigeon Forge (and a brief stop in Nashville for dinner.) And, as you know, we got to Pigeon Forge, TN after a long drive from Creepotown, USA; Population: Nightmare.

I know we've covered the Fear-inducing Parade Float Museum and the pee-your-pants-scary Nightmare on Main Street... but I just want to be clear: Those things are so frightening, even my computer is barely holding its shit together. I know it feels like I'm beating a dead horse here, but I didn't want to talk about it until we were at least a thousand miles away. When we were leaving that awful place, Jon and I literally had to don masks in order to make our escape...

...somehow reasoning that if we ALSO looked creepy, we'd blend in and be allowed to leave.

I'm hoping that we're now far enough away, and that I can start to rebuild my shattered life. (And by "life," I mean "iPhoto Library" which shit the bed pretty much the second I imported those demon pics. Luckily, my 19,000+ pictures are backed up in LA. And unless the The Evil Army makes it there before me...

...I should be fine.)

Anyway, after a fine day in Dollywood...

...Jon and I explored some of what the nightlife in Pigeon Forge had to offer.

There's the Comedy Barn...

...and the Hoot-N-Holler...

...which are rival family musical comedy romps whose casts of zany characters are sure to bring laughter and joy to all those who are dead inside post-Dollywood. Apparently, the Pigeon Forgers love their bearded men dressing in drag!

For some reason, Jon and I decided to skip the dinner theater, choosing instead for a quiet restaurant called Bullfish, about a mile from our hotel.

While there, we discovered that the kind folks of Pigeon Forge really like their salt. They actually put a giant pat of extra-salted butter in the middle of their spinach/artichoke dip. Seriously. Then they gave Jon a dinner salad covered with bacon and cheese:

But the food was good (I'm saying that because they gave me extra wine. Apparently, I looked thirsty. I wonder why.)

On our way back to the hotel, I couldn't resist forcing Jon to stop inside the Magic Quest...
...which boasted four (4!) unique fun games including mini-golf, a hall of mirrors and, best of all... THE VAULT!
The Vault is, of course, a laser-maze! Having learned excellent techniques on spying from the Spy Museum in DC, I felt that Jon and I were up to this challenge.

Jon did pretty well--attacking the lasers with precision force.

I didn't fare quite as well, and am clearly too fat to be this kind of spy...

...though I bet I could kick ass if they made some kind of a life-sized Q-Bert floor game.

On our way back to the hotel, we passed by one of several (and seriously, there are maybe a dozen of them) Christmas-themed stores. These stores are open all year long because the Forgerse really love their Christmas. They have several--SEVERAL--Christmas Clearance Stores.

And, as we've already learned... they love their Knives...

...like, a lot:

Before hitting our hotel, I sat down to ask Santa if he could make me a sveltspy... and maybe give me a set of steak knives...
...but that ended pretty poorly as well.

And so, the next day (yesterday) we said goodbye to Pigeon Forge and headed for Memphis and got All Shook Up!

More on this... next time!

Dollywood is Very Very Gay!

2009-08-25T23:30:00.001-07:00

When my friend Aaron (who is a theme park expert) heard that Jeff and I were going to Dollywood, he called me up to tell me two things. One, he wished he could join us. And two, there used to be a Gay Day at Dollywood, but now there isn't one. He later forwarded me on an article from OutTraveler.com, which revealed that the event organizer/promoter decided to stop Gay Day at Dollywood after five years for numerous reasons. There were also threats from the KKK, run-ins with the police, and if you showed up wearing a gay-themed T-shirt to the park...the Dollywood employees make you turn it inside out. Apparently, the lawyers that represent Dollywood also didn't like the idea of having a gay day in their amusement park in part because their mission statement is to operate in "a manner consistent with Christian values and ethics."

(For those not in the know, Gay Days happen at theme parks all over the country, including Disneyland, Disney World, and Magic Mountain. They are a day when gays all plan to attend on a specific day and all wear red T-shirts so that they can easily identify each other. Sometimes after the park shuts down for the day, there are private all-gay parties held within certain, more cooperative parks.)

Hearing about this controversy with the gays at Dollywood didn't really surprise me. Right before Jeff and I left our Days Inn in Pigeon Forge to go to Dollywood, I saw a guy that was staying in the room next to us, polishing his boots; they were leather cowboy boots that prominently featured the "Stars and Bars" (a.k.a.: the Dixie Flag) on either side of each boot. Prejudice seems to be simmering just below the surface here. All it needs are a couple thousand gays in gay themed t-shirts to make it boil over.

Although disheartening, the news of the gay day organizer's troubles with Dollywood didn't stop Jeff and I from going on our adventure yesterday. And I have to say that I'm quite happy we went, because here's the thing...

Dollywood is the gayest place on earth.

As we were welcomed into Dollywood, it became almost immediately apparent that Rainbows would be a running theme throughout the park.

Now I'm not one to claim that all rainbows are code for "gay," but when you see this book...

...on sale at "Dolly's Closet,"

You have to wonder what it all means.

Particularly when the suspiciously monikered store is located across the street from the Dolly Parton museum. A museum they call "Chasing Rainbows."

(Please note Jeff's positioning here. He is attempting to "chase the rainbow.")

As soon as you walk into "Chasing Rainbows," the first photo you see is...

...which featured Dolly and three other famous ladies that are also gay icons.

On the opposite wall, Jeff found Dolly with...

...the verygay Siegfried & Roy (the giant feline pictured is NOT the one that took a bite out of Roy).

Next to that photo is one of Dolly with my favorite musical theater star, Carol Channing:

The rest of the Dolly museum was filled to the brim with photos of Dolly with Cher, Dolly with Jonathan Taylor Thomas, Dolly with George Michael, and many many others.

(Unfortunately, we really weren't supposed to take photos within the museum, so I only have the ones you see above. I snuck those in before the Dollywood security team caught on.)

As we walked out of "Chasing Rainbows," Jeff and I ran into "The Gem Tones," a group of five friends that "bring their own brand of musical fun" to the streets and sidewalks of "Jukebox Junction."

They were truly outrageous.

For the most part, Dollywood is a pretty traditional theme park but with a down home country/folksy name for everything. It turns out that "folksy" and "gay" are surprisingly interchangeable.

For example, the best ride in the park is the "Mystery Mine" ride. Jeff saw that it went upside down, almost crapped his pants, and refused to ride on it...so I was forced to ride into the "mine shaft" on my own.

The ride was fast, thrilling, and I couldn't stop smiling. That said, it is a ride that takes you down a "mystery mine shaft" where they shoot flames at you. Seriously.

The only ride that was more suggestive was this cleverly titled one hiding near the back of the park...

Actually, on second though, I think the suspicious looking "The Timber Tower" may be gayer...

I did manage to convince Jeff to join me on a couple of rides, including a very tame indoor roller coaster called "Blazing Fury."

Near the entrance of the ride, I was immediately drawn to the poster of "Bill Bison" and his master hose handling skills...

...because who doesn't love a man that knows how to "shoot"?

Towards the end of the day, I guess Jeff's defenses were down, because he let me convince him to go on a wooden roller coaster that was one of the fastest and shakiest wooden roller coasters ever. And, of course, it wouldn't Dollywood unless it was named...

"Thunderhead" really put the WOOD in Dollywood, especially after it cautioned riders to:

And:

There were plenty of other signs dispersed throughout the park that made me realize why every day at Dollywood is "Gay Day."

Despite all these suggestive signs lurking around, Jeff and I really only saw and identified two other actual real live gays during our entire four hour visit to Dollywood.

I also spotted this gentleman...

I am 99.9 percent positive that the implications of this t-shirt weren't intended for a gay audience, which really made me want to make a scene and demand that the Dollywood staff force this man to turn his shirt inside out. Instead, I took a picture of his "I Got My Cock Cleaned at Phesant Express" T-shirt for this blog...and isn't that punishment enough?

Overall, Jeff and I had fantastic time at Dollywood.

We felt very welcome and were very sad that the park closed at 6pm.

At least we'll always know one thing...

...that Dolly will always love all of the colors of the Rainbow.

Including our own.

Day Three: Roanoke, VA to Pigeon Forge, TN

2009-08-25T23:24:00.000-07:00

Mile 343.9 - It's Jon's turn to drive! Jeff vows to keep a good record of the mileage, but is already failing.

Mile 345.1 - Leaving the Roanoke airport! Get us to Tennessee!

Mile 345.5 - After two minutes of driving, Jon figures out how to adjust the steering wheel--something Jeff was unable to do for the first four days he had the car. That's a shame.

Mile 370.8 - Jon announces he is anti-carpet. Ofcourseheis.

Mile 378.0 - Jon is verymad at the big truck in the passing lane.

Mile 380.6 - Apparently, they forgot half of our road.

Finish this damned thing, will you?

Mile 381.5 - Ru U! Weooo!

Mile 387.0 - Artists at work!

Mile 389.3 - Clayton Lake makes Jon yell....

...apparently he almost perished while camping there. There may have been a Windigo.

Mile 393.4 - Guy cuts in front of Jon without using his signal. Jon is furious and labels him an official enemy of the CFRT.

If we had an oil slick or ninja star tires, this guy would be toast.

Mile 397.2 - Jeff needs coffee to wake up.

Mile 401.2 - Urgent Message is flashing. AhHHHH!

Mile 401.3 - The Urgent Message is about the lane painters we saw 14 miles ago. Thanks, Highway people.

Mile 406.8 - How. Dare. You.

Mile 418.1 - Pepsi Plant!
Jeff still needs coffee, but not Coffee Pepsi. Because that's nasty.

Mile 419.4 - Gay! We stop here...
...for gay coffee.

Mile 430.7 - Rural Retreat, TN. Where are the Jurors?

Mile 437.2 - GroseClose.
"Yeah. Totally Groseclose."

Mile 452.8 - 7 Mile Ford:
...Jeff remarks that this is a long car. Jon puts Jeff in ComedyJail.

Mile 456.9 - Jeff places Jon in Comedy Jail for the following crime:
"No Deal, so Chilhowie."

idiot.

Mile 464.8 - Boring!

Mile 473.7 - We nearly hit a beaver. Anonymous Ra is on the phone and remarks "That would have been the first time either of you hit a beaver." Welcome to Comedy Jail, Anonymous Ra. Glad you could join us.

Mile 481.5 - Hall's Bottom!?
Hot!

Mile 485.5 - HorseVans!

Mile 492.5 - We're in TN! The Volunteer State!

Mile 501.9 - Jon blasts a Miley song. Jeff volunteers to perish.

Mile 515.1 - Speed limit is up to 70! GO! GO! GO!

Mile 531.0 - Pee Stop! Cheerwine is here!

Mile 532.6 - Red Bull Cola is Terrible. TERRIBLE!!!

Mile 543.8 - Jon belches, declares the Red Bull Cola to be "better the second time around."

Mile 552.1 - We tune into 930AM. Ears are murdered.

Mile 557.1 - You're having fun on Pigeon Forge Road.

Mile 566.9 - Driving down Highway 40! (but not in our big old pick up truck.)

Mile 568.9 - America's Number One Aquarium? Really?

Mile 579.5 - TN is veryholy.

Mile 582.7 - Hotel Arrival!!

...or not. Apparently, we're still many miles away from Pigeon Forge.

Mile 586.2 - WTF is happening in this city?

Mile 588.1 - Sexy Stuf...
I don't even want to know where the other F is.

Mile 592.8 - Between here and the hotel, the streets were littered with crazy. I tried to take as many pics as possible. So for the next three miles, look at these:

Pigeon Forge: Making you feel twice as welcomed.™

Pigeon Forge is pretty excited about a lot of things. Including a Titanic replica...

...specialty shops...

...Hilariousness...
...and knives. Lots and lots of knives.

Of course, you'll need a place to stay, like a quality cabin!

Mile 595.9 - Luckily, we'll just be here at a Day's Inn. The right one, this time.

Mile 602.1 - And now, our final destination for the day! Hello, Dollywood!!!!!!

Nightmare at the Shenandoah Caverns, Part 3 : Dream Warriors

2009-08-25T20:39:00.010-07:00

As Jeff mentioned in the previous post, the American Celebration on Parade and the Main Street of Yesteryear exhibit at the Shenandoah Caverns were scarier than any of the films that make up the SAW franchise.

Don't believe us?

Here's proof in video form...

It's clear that these "creatures" have killed before. And they will kill again.

Parade of Horrors

2009-08-25T10:59:00.001-07:00

First off, I must apologize for the late-n-quick nature of this post. The creatures I'm about to show you clearly do not want this story to be told, as I've been thwarted with technological difficulties and hostile blogging environments since I began to write this story.

Anyway, after exploring the Shenandoah Caverns on Sunday...

...Jon and I trekked about a half a mile down the road, passing some (what I assume must be) some sacrificial goats along the way...

Goats who, for some reason, live in a place called Fort Earl before they are sacrificed to the Dark Lord.

Help meeeeee.... HELP MEEEE!

...in order to explore the "American Celebration on Parade" exhibit. Basically, it's a museum full of giant, terrifying parade floats from years gone by. Like any good nightmare factory, the horror begins outside:

We walked into the place and were greeted by yet another unenthusiastic "guide" whose soul had clearly been sucked out by these creatures. His eyes avoided ours, probably out of fear that we'd sense his desperation and start asking if he needed our help to escape. Rather than put us at risk, he simply continued with his speech, barely taking a breath as he rushed through it. Neither Jon nor I managed to catch what he was saying, but the general gist of it was "This is a self-guided tour, you can read everything you need to know about these horrible things on the displays... and don't touch anything because it will eat you."

I'm not sure how best to convey the absolute horror that this place exhibits, so let me just take you on this journey with some photos because A: As I look at these pics, I'm too frightened to type and B: The less time I spend talking about them, the safer I feel like we'll all be from their wrath.

As soon as we walked in, I had the feeling we were being watched...

Quickly, it became clear that if we didn't behave, we'd be trapped in there forever, a fate that had clearly befallen our host. If we were lucky, we'd simply be enslaved and have to work there. Of course, if we kept on mouthing off... we'd be locked in at night, when the displays would come to life and maché us to death, incorporating us into their psycho-sinister museum--like the acrobats shown here:

The creatures here were so large...

...and so, so frightening...

...that Jon even tried to ride a float out of the place.

It did not work.

But as terrifying as this museum was...

...and believe me, it was terrifying...

...it was not as bad as our visit to Main Street of Yesteryear, which is described like this at the entrance...

...but can more accurately be described as "Nightmare Factory." This is where they make the things that creep into your mind while you sleep. These animatronic creations are everything you were afraid of as a child...

and, if you're smart...

..are still afraid of to this day.

Because if this doesn't scare the crap out of you...

...maybe you're already dead.

There's plenty more insanity... and I'll post it when I can. But for now, Jon and I are off to Nashville and/or Memphis! Okbye!

Day Two : Washington, DC to Roanoke, VA

2009-08-25T10:00:00.003-07:00

Mile 98.2 - Back on the road...it's time to see Virginia! In case you hadn't heard, it's for lovers. So Jeff is veryexcited to be reunited with Jesse.

Mile 98.3 - And we're stuck in traffic at Dupont Circle! Jeff wants to know why the "Fruit Loop" is "full of crap" instead of delicious berries and bananas. Jon doesn't have an answer for him.

Mile 98.5 - Boys in Togas are a thing that happening in the center of Dupont Circle, because...uh...why not?

Mile 99.7 - Jon almost perishes in the middle of the streets of Georgetown when he runs to the trunk to retrieve the snacks and the maps.

Mile 100.8 - The Key Bridge! Bye Georgetown and the rest of DC! Bye Hotel Helix! Bye Spy Museum! Bye Segways!

Mile 100.9 - We're lost in Virginia and we've only been here for thirty seconds.

Mile 101.8 - Back on track!

Mile 102.1 - Jeff does some bit about "getting out kicks on Route 66," since we are currently on Route 66. Jon isn't amused and wonders just how many miles it is to Roanoke.

Mile 112.7 - Jeff doesn't want to "do the Helen Keller" (and talk with his hips. Neither does Jon for that matter, but it still doesn't stop him from singing every word to this terrible terrible song.

Mile 116.5 - We pass a sign that announces National Firearms Museum. With a worried look on his face, Jon declares, "And we're in the South."

Mile 132.6 - Berger Cookie Break Time!

(Berger cookies are fudge-on-top-of-a-soft-cookie cookies. They are only made in Baltimore and were purchased for the road trip by Mama and Papa Ru. Thanks guys!)

Mile 133.7 - And we're stuck in traffic once again.

Mile 137.9 - Jeff has his first cowboy sighting of the road trip. We're pretty sure it won't be his last.

Mile 142.7 - Jeff looks out the car and exclaims, "Oooh a ray of sunshine!" Jon says, "Well, Sunday is a day for sun rays." Jeff still doesn't know what this means and he never wants to figure it out, because then he'll have to join Jon in Comedy Jail.

Mile 188.7 - Dolly drives us crazy! Just like the Fine Young Cannibals did so many years ago.

Mile 195.7 - We're going to see the Shenandoah Caverns and An American Celebration on Parade!

Jeff is very excited. Jon remains skeptical and aloof because he's been to the Luray Caverns. The Luray Caverns are just a few minutes away from the Shenandoah Caverns AND they are "the largest and most popular caverns on the east coast. Once you've seen Luray, no other cavern will do really." Or at least that's what Jon thinks one would think if they cared about the size of caverns.

Mile 208.0 - And we've arrived at the Shenandoah Caverns/An American Celebration on Parade.

We haven't even gotten out of the car yet and we're already terrified.

Mile 208.1 - Thank god that disaster is over. We can't get away from the scary scary parade floats fast enough.

Mile 214.0 - Dinner at Southern Kitchen Restaurant in New Market, VA! It was filled with Iceberg lettuce dinner salads, Fried Chicken, and stewed tomatoes.

Burp.

Mile 237.4 - Virginia smells like horse manure. For at least three miles.

Mile 251.9 - Pit stop. Jon gasses up the car and Jeff gasses up himself with Dunkin' Donuts Coffee.

Mile 275.5 - It's time a "Sophisticated Side Ponytail" Sing-A-Long!

Do you like my ponytail?

I DO! I DO!

My sideways ponytail?

IT'S TRUE! IT'S TRUE!

Mile 301.0 - Jon asks Jeff if he knows what spelunkers and lesbians have in common. Jeff doesn't know. Jon explains that "they both like diving into caverns." Jeff put Jon on Death Row in Comedy Jail.

Mile 311.4 - We're in Arcadia! We're Amber Tamblyn?

Mile 319.6 - Amish Oatmeal Whooppie Pie Break!

Mile 331.6 - Jeff and Jon call each other jerks, but only because they are singing this terrible/amazing rap song.

Mile 338.0 - And we've arrived at our destination for the evening -- Roanoke. We're going to try not to become "lost" like that colony tonight. Wish us luck!

When Precious Memories Attack

2009-08-25T09:45:00.004-07:00

On last year's road trip (a.k.a.: "East Infection 2008"), Jeff and his family opened up their vacation house in Wildwood, New Jersey to me. And I repaid them by taking photos of all of the darling ceramic figurines located around the house...from inside a cofee can.

I'd been to many a store that is filled to the brim with those types of ceramics, but always wondered if they would ever find a home or if they would just be taken away to precious memory heaven after some clumsy child accidentally smashed them to bits on the storeroom floor. It was only last year that I discovered that the Nucera residence is a perfect home for them. In fact, during Jeff's recent stay in Philly (pre-Country Fried Road Trip), he discovered the latest addition to his mother's precious memory collection:

Simply terrifying, right?

Well, as it turns out, there are much much much scarier "precious memories" out there. And practically all of them can be purchased at the "American Celebration On Parade" gift shop.

There was this clock that counts down when it's time for the parade floats to come alive and eat people...

There were a bunch of half-dead cats that seem to be "presenting themselves...

But the most horrifying things in the store were a series of baby dolls dressed as a variety of different animals and insects...

These two will sting you to death...

Then, these "peacocks" will peck your eyes out...

This skunk will give you the "stink eye"...

While the sheep and the pigs lull you into compliance with their cuteness...

Once you have been stung, stunk, pecked, lulled, and eaten, these fairies will come along to pull out all of your teeth...

...while these dollies look on and laugh in utter delight.

Finally, this doll feasts on your soul...

Needless to say, Jeff and I are very lucky to have escaped from that place in one piece.

I will admit that there was one particular item that wasn't that scary...

...but I decided that the sign didn't quite match the display.

There. That's much better.

Please Stand By

2009-08-24T22:04:00.004-07:00

Oh, hello there, kind reader! It's the end of Day Three of the Country Fried Road Trip!

Unfortunately, due to the fact that Jon and I have had about ten hours of sleep each since the start of this trip, coupled with the fact that Blogger doesn't seem to want us to upload any photos... we are going to sleep and we'll try again in the morning.

Personally, I think that blogger is terrified of the images I'm trying to post from the Parade Float museum....

...because why wouldn't it be?

We'll see you tomorrow with a hot, fresh, delicious post. Unless this thing kills us first. In which case... you're next.

You're a Comment Error!

2009-08-23T22:50:00.000-07:00

Due to errors that we were unaware of until today, the only way you could comment on our "Country Fried Road Trip" blog was to go through some long and tedious registration process.

Well, we fixed that problem...so now you or anyone you know can comment. Or not comment. It's totally up to you. We won't judge you, if you won't judge us.

Sincerely,
Country Fried Spiral Notebook

Going Underground

2009-08-23T22:44:00.002-07:00

Greetings from Roanoke, Virginia! It's after midnight on Sunday (technically Monday), and we've already been in the hotel for a few hours now... along with some very special guests:

The Hotel Helix it is not.

After last night's series of unfortunate incidents, Jon and I decided to take it easy. We have to get up super-early in order to make it to Dollywood at a decent hour--and besides, we packed a lot of stuff in on Day 2 of the Country Fried Road Trip!

After a mere five hours of drunken hobo sleep, Jon and I awoke this morning and headed to the "International Spy Museum" in downtown DC.

They wouldn't let us take photos while inside, so instead, I'll try to paint a fair and accurate description using my words:

"It was neat."

Truth be told, it was actually very cool. They gave us code names and showed us how to pick locks and crawl through air ducts. I'm pretty sure I would have learned a thing or two had I not still been in a vanilla vodka-flavored haze.

After the museum, Jon and I headed into the best yogurt shop ever, Mr. Yogato, to blog for a bit before heading into Virginia to stop at the Shenandoah Caverns...

...which were nestled in a terrifying little Twilight Zone-esque town. We initially became suspicious when we saw the gigantic "Cootie" welcoming us as we drove up to the entrance:

We got inside just a few minutes after the final tour of the day started, so the little old lady cashier sent us down into the caves with a surly kid to catch us up to the tour that was already in progress.

Our guide, 15 year old Dylan, spent his time with us mumbling his way through the speech he's been forced to give probably since the day he learned to speak all while trying to rush us through interesting things like the wall of bacon...
...and general Stalactite-ness:
He'd explain things in one long run-on word before running away from us impatiently in a misguided attempt to hurry us to the rest of the group.

Jon is endlessly amused by this kid's determination to spend as little time with us as possible.

Dylan finally lead us to Matt...
...who took us through the rest of the tour at a normal pace, showing us some of the cooler sights:

The underground has pretty lights!

Of course, these were all pretty much things you'd expect to see in caves... nothing really out of the ordinary.

The caves were great--but what really attracted us to this section of the earth was the "American Celebration on Parade," featuring retired Parade Floats... which, as it turns out, are actually the most frightening things on the planet:

I want to post about the things we saw there tonight--but it is nearly 2AM and we need to be semi-alert for Dollywood tomorrow. And reliving the horror that is the Parade Float Museum and its equally terrifying "Main Street" companion exhibit is not a good recipe for sleep. So... I'm going to try and put the images out of my mind to get some shut-eye... although these things will clearly be haunting my dreams...
...for a long, long time to come.

You'll see them all in their evil glory in my next post. Promise.

I want to take you to the gay bar! Gay bar! Gay bar!

2009-08-23T20:32:00.016-07:00

BLOGGER'S NOTE: Jeff and I are going to try something new. I am going to blog first, then Jeff, and then me again. All in the same post. It make work for you. It may not. We're going to try it anyway.

JON: I grew up in Delaware, so thanks to a number of family vacations and school field trips...I've seen all that DC has to offer. (Or at least I thought I did, until I saw DC while riding a Segway.)

I even spent a summer living in DC in between my sophomore and junior year of college. It wasn't until I was chatting with our Segway tour guide, Emma, that I did the math and realized that it was ELEVEN years ago. I know ELEVEN years really isn't that long ago, but most days I still feel like I am in my mid-twenties so the very idea that I wasn't in high school eleven years ago came as a shock. A terrible, weird, I-know-I-shouldn't-be-making-a-big-deal-out-of-this kind-of-thing shock.

The summer I lived in DC was actually a big deal for me. It was the first time I ever lived in a bustling metropolitan area for an extended period of time. It was the first summer I spent away from home. And it marked the summer when my sexuality wasn't just a secret that my older sister and a couple of female friends at college knew about.

I decided to live in DC on a whim really. In early May of 1998, my high school roommate, Emmett, invited me to sublet his girlfriend's room for the summer at a house just on the outskirts of the Georgetown University campus. I had nothing else planned, so I thought "Why not?"

About two weeks into my stay at DC, I was hanging out with Emmett and his girlfriend, Urfa, with no real idea of what the plan for the night was. Before I knew it, I was stuck in a car with eight other people, driving toward Dupont Circle to go dancing at a gay bar called "Cobalt." At the time, I hadn't told anyone in the car that I was gay. In fact, I was in a car full of straight dudes and Urfa. (We were meeting Urfa's gay best friend, Andre, at the bar.) Needless to say, I was scared shitless. The only gay bar I'd ever seen was in this British movie called "Beautiful Thing," where two young homos get harassed by a scary drag queen. I was convinced that as soon as I walked into the bar, every homo would run up to Emmett, tell him that I was gay, and then, he would never speak to me again.

(The fact that Emmett was going to a gay bar should have been my first clue that he was going to be OK with the whole thing, but I was young, immature, and a total idiot.)

Nothing like what I imagined happened. There were no scary drag queens lurking in the corners. Instead, we just danced the night away. No one looked at me twice, because I refused to look at anyone but the carpeted floor, the carpeted walls, and the giant carpeted pole in the middle of the floor that people used a makeshift stripper pole.

The next night, I finally told Emmett that I was gay. His response? "I'm so glad YOU know." He hugged me and told me that he still thought of me in exactly the same way as he did before. In fact, if anything, telling him would make our friendship even stronger. And it did.

The rest of the summer was a blur, but the best kind of blur. It was filled with endless games of bullshit, marathons of "The Real World : New Orleans," and a few more nights out on the town. One night, I went on a date that ended up on the dancefloor at Cobalt.

While 1998 was a great year for me, it wasn't so great for Cobalt. The bar burned down sometime that fall. (I imagine that it had something to do with the fact that everything surface was covered in flammable carpet, but I could be wrong.)

So I thought I would never get to go back and relive the summer that changed my life...until I began researching places for Jeff and I to go out in DC. I discovered that somewhere in the past eleven years, Cobalt got remodeled and turned into a tri-level complex for the DC gays (first floor, restaurant; second floor, lounge; third floor, dance club).

So post-Segway tour, Jeff and I journeyed out into the night and into Cobalt.

It felt the same and totally different at the same time. The whole place felt brighter, friendlier, and less like the place that made me want to throw up. I'm not sure if it had something to do with the fact that I'm eleven years older, wiser, and more mature OR the fact that Cobalt 2.0 has a better lighting scheme and less carpet.

In fact, Jeff and I were having such a good time that we started wondering if perhaps the DC homos are less terrible than the LA homos.

Then, while I was waiting for Jeff to return for a quick pit-stop in the bathroom, a couple of drunk drag queens stumbled through the front door and headed straight for the bathroom. It was at that point I knew that my time at Cobalt was about to end.

I will now pause to let Jeff take you through what happened next.

* * *

JEFF: You know how some people are afraid of clowns because of their terrifying makeup and their lack of personal space and boundaries? Well, that's pretty much how I feel about guys in drag. I don't want them near me, I'm frightened by them, and they make me want to run.

Of course, sometimes... there's no way out.

After our second drink, I politely excused myself and went off to utilize the restroom. And, for the record, Jon knows that when I am inside of the bathroom--I don't want to interact with anyone: I don't want to make idle chit chat while standing at the urinals, I don't want to discuss the headlines with the guy reading the paper in the stall next to me, and I Most Certainly Do Not Want To See, Hear, Touch, Smell or Taste ANYTHING You Are Doing In The Bathroom.

So you can imagine my horror as I was walking to the sink to wash my hands, when a man in a gold mini-dress, giant heels and a brown wig entered. I almost crashed into his giant boobs, but managed to side-step him at the last moment. He smiled and laughed, made some drag-queen type smart-ass remark and I began to wash up. As horrifying as it was, I was just grateful that I had just finished using the bathroom, because if that run-in had happened five minutes prior, I almost certainly would have wet my pants.

As I was drying my hands, another drag queen entered. It was a rookie mistake on my part to stay in there after the first one arrived: I know they travel in packs. I should have been expecting more of them... but I wasn't. I let my guard down. And for that, I'll never forgive myself.

The friend pointed out that the first drag queen was using a urinal, and said, "Look at this! You'll never see this again!" He literally grabbed me by my shoulders and forced me to turn in the direction of his urinating friend. In any normal situation, the friend would have shied away, turning towards the corner so as to avoid the prying eyes of the stranger in the rest room.

But this was not a normal situation. This was a nightmare.

The urinating friend then turned to face me, his manhood peeking out from under his gold skirt. I was frozen with fear. The friend was laughing still: "You should take a video of this! I'm serious!!!" For a moment, I thought "Yes. I'll take a video of this for the blog readers." But I thought better of it--both for you and for me.

Because no one else should have to live through the things I've seen. And I certainly don't want to have video evidence of it.

I exited the restroom--the image burned into my retinas for all of eternity--and I asked Jon if we could leave. Thankfully, he complied. Luckily... we met Jesse at the next bar five minutes later and suddenly, the night was better. God bless you, Jesse. I hope you weren't beaten in an arm-wresting match with two hideous drag queens and left for dead somewhere. And I don't say that about just anyone.

* * *

JON: After Jeff's drag queen disaster in the bathroom of Cobalt and the catastrophe that was Jesse/JR at JR's, Jeff and I headed to a new bar in town called "Halo." There were about five people in the bar, so Jeff and I only stayed long enough to have one drink and take our picture in Halo's bathroom mirror.

The mirror in HALO features a HALO. Get it?

I don't know if you've heard DC, but I'm eleven-years older, wiser, and more mature.

And all you have is better lighting, less carpet, and more drag queens.

Hotel Helix: A Photo Essay

2009-08-23T20:30:00.002-07:00

This morning, Jon and I left Washington DC behind. It was a hell of a stay--made extra special by the fabulously groovy Hotel Helix. Please join me for a stunning visual presentation of this hotel, won't you?

Jon and the pink awning that attracted him to this hotel in the first place.

This chair outside the hotel was regular-sized; I was just very tiny at that moment.

The constantly-changing light-up tic-tac-toe board in the lobby. I'm not sure why no one was playing.

The stunning carpet that lines the hallways. I'm not sure why no one was throwing up.

The leopard-print robes and undergarments in our hotel room closet. I'm not sure why no one was wearing these.

The surfer on our wall.

The Austin-Powers inspired curtain.

The Mini-Bar--featuring Pez!

The weird bulbous mirror--featuring idiots!

The bright red lampshade!

And, finally, allow me to present the series of photographs that dot the corridors of the hotel--as interpreted by Jon & myself:

Goodbye, Hotel Helix!

Segways in Motion!

2009-08-23T19:20:00.004-07:00

So, as I'm sure you've gathered from Jeff's previous post, Segways are the best thing ever. It is truly shocking to me that more people don't have them (well...it's only shocking until you find out that the lazy person's scooter costs 5,000 dollars).

Besides all of the awesomely unbalanced still photographs you've already seen, Jeff and I managed to capture a few awesomely unbalanced videos of us riding around DC on the aforementioned Segways. (It turns out that operating a Flip Video Camera on a Segway is not the best way to capture the smooth ride of the Segway.)

Sit back. Relax. Take a Dramamine. And enjoy videos like this one:

And this one:

Riding on the Segway during a hot and humid summer day in DC brought us plenty of surprises along the way, including this guy:

After nearly three hours, our time with the Segways came to an end. Our friendly and patient tour guide, Emma, allowed us one final spin...which we just had to document in Shaky/Dark/Hazy Flip-Camera-on-a-Segway Style:

I cannot thank my Father and Uncle enough for inspiring us to see DC in this way. Best. Tour. Ever.

DC Follies

2009-08-23T11:40:00.002-07:00

Hey!

Jon and I are currently in DC, about to hit the road again to head to a Mystery Location in Virgina. The location is only a mystery because we don't know where the crap we're going yet--but here's (at least some of) what happened on Day 1 of the Country Fried Road Trip!

As I left Ralph & Tina's house yesterday afternoon (only two hours later than expected) I went to punch Jon's address in Dover, DE into the Navigational System I borrowed from Bookie. Unfortunately, Dover DE does not exist according to the Garmin Nuvi. Useless. I finally got directions from my Blackberry and was on my way. Thirty minutes later than the two hours late I already was.

After some traffic and nonsense, I finally picked Jon up and the Country Fried Road Trip officially began! Stop 1: Washington DC! Of course, the Nav system once again refused to lead us to DC (It wasn't even an option when we listed all possible "Washington" destinations. Seriously, Garmin--It's 2009: Get your shit together.)

Anyway, we made our way into DC amid massive thunderstorms and torrential rains. We seriously almost got struck my lightning. (And by that, I mean we saw some lightning.)

Normally, I like a good thunderstorm, but Jon had booked us into a Segway Tour of DC at the behest of PapaRu (via Uncle Carl) and we weren't sure if being on giant electric people-movers would be a wise choice in the middle of one. Luckily, by the time we checked into the hotel and got to the tour office, the lightning had subsided. The rain, however, did not.

But the tour was going on, come hell or high water. Or both.

Segways--We're Better Than Nature™!

And so, after we put on our helmets...

"Ho...GAN!!!!!"

...we went outside into the pouring rain, where Jon donned the jacket he was smart enough to bring...

...and I was forced to buy...

...a one dollar poncho which, according to some, makes me look like a human condom. Gah.

Our tour group consisted of myself, Jon and six Italian nationals who barely spoke any English. Our guide, Emma, trained us on the Segways which, at first, were kind of terrifying.

But after a while, we discovered they weren't so bad. Emma was a great teacher and a great tour guide! She took us to all the great Washington DC sites. Of course, taking photos while balancing on a Segway proved a little difficult...

This photo was supposed to have Jon and the Capitol Building in it. Not just the building and Jon's helmet and forehead.

This is either the Washington Monument or a giant cardboard paper towel tube.

A blob of Jeff

Hey! He's in focus! Jeff is clearly a pro now!

Luckily, Emma is as good a photographer as she is a teacher, and she offered to take some respectable pictures of your Country Fried Road Trippers:

White House & Nerdy.

While DC is rich in history and Emma did a great job explaining the stories behind everything we saw. The main thing I learned: Walking is for suckers. I need a Segway...

...but I could probably do without the poncho.

Day One : Dover, Delaware to Washington, DC

2009-08-23T10:27:00.006-07:00

Mile 0 - We're on our way! Bye Mama Ru! Bye Papa Ru! Thanks for everything!

Mile .10 - Bye Dover! Hello Camden-Wyoming!

Mile .24 - And we've stopped already. At a NO BRAND gas station. Someone isn't very brand loyal. Clearly.

Mile 12.1 - Bookie's GPS refuses to detect Washington, DC. Either it hates us or Washington, DC or both. We're going with "both."

Mile 13.8 - We're in Felton! It's a place! Jon says something about how "It's a good thing we don't have any FELT ON us." It may be the worst thing he has ever said.

Mile 14.8 - We're in Maryland! Dela-Where? Exactly.

Mile 23.8 - We missed the turn at Baltimore Corner! We are already a disaster. OfCourseWeAre.

Mile 43.1 - We just got word that there is a flash flood warning in the DC area! AHHHHhh! We may perish! (Thanks for the heads up Rasheed!)

Mile 46.9 - Jeff wants to go throw a "Hissy Fit" on "Hissey Road." Jon doesn't. We don't stop.

Mile 51.2 - Jeff mistakes a tiny 2-second bridge for the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. A bridge he has driven on before. Did I mention that he is doing the driving? Jon worries that he really will perish.

Mile 53.4 - Stupid Cracker Barrel! Jeff loves it there. Jon doesn't. We don't stop.

Mile 56.4 - Now we are on the real Bay Bridge, Jeff.

Mile 58.2 - We are still on the real Bay Bridge, Jeff.

Mile 64.3 - It's the Naval Academy. Jeff wants to go to there. For the hot boys. Not for the history of the place. Or the military training.

Mile 86.2 - Thunder and Lightning nears kills us.

Mile 86.2 - It turns out that of the 30 Elvis #1 hits...a lot of them are good and a lot of them are not so good, especially track 18 ("Surrender"). It is kind of terrible.

Mile 91.6 - We're in DC! It's very exciting!

Mile 93.5 - Okie Street! Jeff informs Jon that his mother's first boyfriend was named "Okie." It's a shame his mother didn't marry "Okie," because then Jeff could have been "Junior Okie"!

Mile 96.4 - And we're lost-ish.

Mile 96.5 - And we're back on track!

Mile 97.1 - We're arrived at the Hotel Helix! It's really verynice.

I Wish That I was Jesse's uhh...Gurl?

2009-08-23T00:25:00.001-07:00

So Jon and I have had a packed day. It's 3 in the morning here in Washington, DC... and I must declare the first day of the Country Fried Road Trip a success.

This may have everything to do with the fact that I have had a thousand drinks over the course of the last few hours.

After picking Jon up, he and I took a tour around DC... on Segways:

Afterward, we had dinner...(and maybe drinks...)

...before heading out to the veryfirst gay bar Jon ever attended...

...where I was assaulted in the bathroom by a few drag queens.

These stories (and more!) will be relayed tomorrow, once we are able to coherently tell such tales.

What we need to discuss tonight, however, is a matter of National Importance.

I met my future husband... and his name is Jesse.

I love him. He's kind of like Stifler from American Pie, only hotter. And way, way dumber.

After Jon's first gay bar (Cobalt) we walked into a bar called JR's...

We weren't there for five minutes before Jesse spotted us. I could tell this kid was trouble from the moment I saw him: mainly because of the way he was stumbling toward us.

He introduced himself (although he made "Jesse" sound like a name with eight syllables, so I had to confirm his moniker later on...) and immediately started swearing at Jon. When Jon sort of just blanched at him, Jesse turned to me and wondered why Jon was being so "ssssssssensitive." His jock appearance coupled with his big flamey homo lisp made him that much more confusing and, sadly, attractive to me.

Of course, he was drunk...
...like REALLY drunk....

...and like all self-respecting drunk frat boys, he immediately inquired: "You wanna fight??"

As he said this, I wasn't sure what he was doing. He certainly didn't sound angry... so was he flirting? He was also making this gesture:

Of course, I had no idea what the hell he was doing. Mainly because he's a drunk maniac. Did I mention he was hot?

Because seriously...he was super-hot.

Anyway, turns out, Jesse wanted to Arm Wrestle. Because who doesn't love to Arm Wrestle. At a bar. On a Saturday night at 1 in the morning? It seems as though Jon certainly loves to arm wrestle!

When it became clear that Jesse was somehow getting drunker, despite not having had any drinks since he began to harass us, I asked for a photo of him with Jon...a concept he quite obviously misunderstood:
...as he tried to take some of his own. With is invisible camera.

After I giggled at his hot stupidity for a while, it became clear that it was my turn to arm-wrestle him:

For the record, I let him win--although I'm not sure if he noticed that he won at all, as he was too busy pointing his finger emphatically for several minutes at a time before wondering aloud, "What?"--as if someone had just said something to him, but he was unable to hear it. I told him "It must be tough being pretty. " He concurred.

As I was wrestling with Jesse, Jon was busy fighting off a boy named JR who had a crush on him. Luckily, Jesse was there to be his knight in shining armor by kicking this guy's ass...

...also in arm wrestling.

The bottom line here is that Jesse and I are going to be married by Elvis when we go to Graceland. And I'm not just saying that because it's 3AM and I've had some cocktails.

...

ok, maybe I am just saying that because it's 3AM and I've had some cocktails. WHO ARE YOU TO JUDGE? WANNA FIGHT??

The Return of Lebanon Bologna & The Siding Man

2009-08-22T09:58:00.009-07:00

I've had a very relaxing two night stay in Dover at "Ruane's Inn" (a.k.a.: Mama and Papa Ru's house).

However, yesterday, it decided to thunderstorm all night (thanks to Hurricane Bill). The power went out in 3/4 of Dover this morning, so I had to eat a bowl of cold cereal for breakfast (Saturday is Pancake Day at Casa Ruane and has been since I was like two years old). Somehow I survived Hurricane Bill, but the stream behind our backyard wasn't so lucky...

The stream is usually only three feet wide and one foot deep. As you can see in the picture above, it's become a giant monster supersize stream that is threatening to take anyone and anything that dares come near it.

Eventually, the power came back on and I packed up to get ready for Jeff's arrival. While waiting, Mama Ru, Papa Ru, and I went to the Amish run Spence's Bazaar in town to pickup lunch and some snacks for the trip.

There is a lot of deliciousness going on at Spence's...

Including TRIPLE TREAT JAM...

...and Homemade Dandelion Jelly (which sounded both delicious and not-delicious at the same time).

In keeping with the "country" theme, Mama Ru got her lunch at the Dutch Country Bar-B-Q...

On the way out of Spence's, my father got very excited because "the Siding Man" was out working at a vegetable stand.

For those not in the know, "The Siding Man" is the man that put the siding on Casa Ruane, circa 1982 (when I was about four years old). I loved "The Siding Man." During his time at our house, he became my new best friend. He let me "help" and he sang "Oh My Darlin' Clementine" with me. Over and over and over again. In fact, I loved "The Siding Man" so much that I announced to anyone who would listen that I wanted to be a "Siding Man" when I grew up.

Cut to twenty-seven years later...I did not grow up to be a "Siding Man" and "The Siding Man" is no longer an actual "siding man." He is "The Fruit & Vegetable Man" now. That didn't stop my father from getting us to pose for a reunion picture.

He apparently still remembers me and I still remember him. We chatted briefly, but we didn't sing "Oh My Darlin' Clementine." Even though I was tempted to see if he would join me in a duet once again.

After "The Siding Man" run-in, Mama Ru, Papa Ru, and I drove back home and I indulged in another childhood memory: a sandwich my sister and I used to call "Lebanon Bologna with Cheese On It Cooked."

("Lebanon Bologna With Cheese On It Cooked" is just one of the many "Cheese On It Cooked" sandwiches that we'd ate regularly in the Ruane household. The others included "Turkey With Cheese On It Cooked," "Ham With Cheese On It Cooked," and "Tuna With Cheese on It Cooked." It wasn't until college that I realized that a "Tuna Melt" and "Tuna With Cheese On It Cooked" was the same thing.)

Jeff needs to get here fast if he wants a "Lebanon Bologna With Cheese On It Cooked" sandwich...

...because after staring at these pictures for the last twenty minutes, I am starting to feel the need to eat something else with "Cheese on It Cooked." And that Amish Lebanon Bologna is trying to woo me with her siren call. In fact, I think it's singing "Oh My Darlin' Clementine."

Rise & Shine!

2009-08-22T08:55:00.000-07:00

Well... The 2009 Road Trip starts today!

I'm about to hop in the car to drive to Dover, DE to pick up Jon and soon, the Country Fried Road Trip will officially begin serving up comedy Hot-n-Fresh from America to your Computer™. Or something.

I spent a couple of days in Philly with family and friends--although due to the last-minuteness of this trip (and the fact that I was only in town for approximately 62 hours) I did not get to see everyone I needed to see--or see nearly enough of those I did hang out with, like my college friends:

The years have not been kind.

Of course, it's nice to know that after 15 years, we're all just as mature as we were the day we met.

Quinn and his little friend.

Jeff tries to shout Stacey's baby out. She was due days ago.
Strangely, this method did not induce labor.

Jeff & Zanne the Super Photographer!

BigSean! The Freshmaker!

Even with my limited time, it was great to see everyone!

Idiots on the top row: Anne, me, Eric, Kev, Xavier
Idiots on the bottom row: Quinn, Stacey, Dave

As usual, while home I've been staying with my crazy parents Ralph & Tina. It's amazing how after 33 years, I'm still learning things about them.

As my dad was driving me to pick up the rental car, for some reason, the topic of jail came up. You see, a few summers ago, my sister D0nna announced to me that our father had actually spent a night in jail once. The details were hazy, but alcohol was involved, and I'm pretty sure it occurred back when the world was in black and white.

When I first heard this little factoid, I was in total shock. Ralph just isn't the jail-type... a quality I'm glad I inherited from him. (We're both too pretty to be behind bars.) Since then, I've grown accustomed to the idea of my dad as a felon, so I finally started to prod him for details of his criminal past... Clearly, I was asking for trouble.

It seems that Ralph had his run-in with the law a few days before he and my mom got married--48 years ago this week, by the way....

Tina and Ralph on their wedding day, 48 years ago!

The Honeymooners

My dad's hooligan friends took him out for a few drinks at something that sounds very-much like a bachelor party, although, for some reason he wouldn't commit to that term. ("That happened later," he reports.)

Anyway, during this "get-together" one of his buddies started hitting on some strange dude's girlfriend. And so the dude punched my dad's friend and a melee broke out. My dad, being the strong, street tough that he was in those days...

...hopped up on the bar to overlook the fray and avoid being trampled (another quality I inherited from him...clearly.)

Of course, the cops roll in and see my dad standing on the bar while all these people beneath him are beating themselves into comas, and they immediately decide that he is the instigator of it all and so they lunge right for him.

My dad and about a dozen of his friends wound up in jail for the night, too drunk to function. During the arrest, they all gave fake names to the cops who, in 1961, didn't give a crap apparently. They gave names like Charlie McCarthy and Donald Duck. My dad? Well, he was Minnie Mouse. Ofcoursehewas. "Somebody else was Mickey Mouse," he whined as he explained his choice.

Minnie complained that being drunk in jail is not nearly as fun as it sounds. They didn't feed him, he was getting married soon... and he was crowded into a cell with all the other drunks and even some everyday crooks: Some of whom were singing, some of whom were yelling, and one of whom was banging loudly on the bars. This last thing, coupled with the hangover that was brewing inside of my dad's mouse ears, made him the most miserable.

After what seemed like days, my dad managed to pass out. When morning came, he was awakened by a cop who was shouting "RISE AND SHINE, MORNING TIME! LOOK AND SEE: YOU MIGHT HAVE THE KEY!" This is how the cop woke up the inmates every day.

Coincidentally, when I was growing up, this is also how my father used to wake me and my siblings up. Every morning. For as long as I can remember.

As a child, I never questioned it. It never even occurred to me to do so. I just kinda thought it was one of those things, like "Rock-a-bye baby" or "shut the hell up" that parents just say to their kids all the time.

I had no idea that my dad got this particular phrase FROM HIS NIGHT IN JAIL.

Sensing my utter discomfort, my dad was sure to wake me up with that phrase this morning... while dangling the rental car keys in front of me for added noisy hilarity. And for this, he earned his second sentence... this time, in ComedyJail™

Since my childhood had been rattled to the core, I asked my mom if she had ever been to jail. I figured I was ready to know if this was also something that happened somehow. Tina's response: "Yeah, I've been in jail for 48 years."

Happy Anniversary, mom and dad. You'll both be spending it in ComedyJail.

I'm looking forward to seeing the Ruanes. Mainly because they aren't felons.

Jon, here I come!

Worst. Road Trip Blog Names. Ever.

2009-08-21T21:23:00.000-07:00

Much like last year, Jeff and I had problems coming up with a name for Jeff/Jon Road Trip Blog 2009. We also had problems deciding where we would go and what we would do on said road trip.

Eventually, after much discussion, we settled on doing a road trip from our homes back east to Washington, DC then onwards to Tennessee (to see Graceland, Memphis, and Nashville). We then attempted to brainstorm road trip blog names. None of them were any good, but they did include:

"InDC Proposal"

"Back To The Road Trip"

"The Road Trip Strikes Back"

"New Adventures of Old Road Trips"

There was a whole batch of ill-advised Carjoy-inspired titles that didn't go over well with anyone, including:

"United States of Carjoy"

"Ode to Carjoy"

"Carjoyer: Road Trip Harder"

"Carjoyer: Sounds Good to Us!"

Since this was technically the Fifth Road Trip blog we've been involved in, we also pondered:

"Fifth Element Road Trip"

"Number Five Is Alive And On A Road Trip"

"Are You Smarter than the Fifth Road Trip?"

"Pleading the Fifth Road Trip"

"A Fifth of Road Trip"

Days later, Jeff realized that Dollywood was a thing that could happen on the way to Memphis/Nashville. It wasn't until my older sister, Rachel, remembered that Dollywood was located in Tennessee that I came to realize that Dollywood was a thing that could happen too.

(Jeff had wanted to surprise me, but I'm pretty sure I would have figured it out at some point before we got there. I mean, it's Dollywood...who hasn't dreamed of seeing "Dolly's Home on Wheels" or getting wet on "The Mountain Slidewinder"?)

The realization that Dollywood could happen opened up a whole world of new ideas for the name of Road Trip Blog 2009. They were even worse than the ones we originally came up with. They included:

"Dolly Cartin'"

"Rhinestone Carjoy"

"9 to Tennessee"

In the end, we settled on "Country Fried Road Trip." It was simple, delicious, and it inspired Jeff to create this...

As well as this...

So now, I can confidently say without any hesitation that we made the right decision.