As for the picture at the right, I'm sure you are wondering...what were we doing in a Harley Motorcycle dealership? Why is such a little tomato acting like it's a big fat beefsteak? Did our little guy lose some of his, uh, juicy gelatinous essence? Locularity, locularity.
I'm thinking that this was taken at the sixth or seventh dealership we've visited. We visit for this reason: My dear friend is caring for my daughter while I'm out alarming the southern population. She and her husband ride Harley's, and her one small request for me while I'm gone is that I feed her dealer pin habit.
All of her friends know....going on a trip? Check out the local Harley dealerships. I was so excited about my visit to the Rogersville area that I completely spaced looking for them there...so I missed Kingsport and Knoxville. Here in Nashville I'm back on track, we've found four in Nashville alone. We have found the nicest people in (most of) the dealerships, and the ones that were not so outgoing, well we WERE in there at quitting time.
Why the TV remotes in motels all have nearly dead batteries? At our current spot we have good batteries, and, praise the big tomato, wifi! I almost don't want to leave. I'd hate to see 2 grandma confined to an airless, muggy room with only a cigarette cursor to keep her company.
And I know this may be a repeat of 2G's blog, but why do televangelists have such astonishing mullet hairdo's? Is it the higher the hair, the closer to God?
Why did the cable in the Bulls Gap Best Western have FIVE channels carrying ABC programming, three carrying NBC, while the one that should have shown CBS was nothing but snow? Being that we are addicted to our dose of Craig Ferguson, we found this to be almost as aggravating as the fact that they advertise the fact that they have WiFi, and then supply you with only one bar (if you are lucky). I'm not bitter. Really.
Why am I starting to sound like Andy Rooney?
2G has hinted that she may sneak up and apply her bedazzler to my cowboy had whilst I sleep. I don't know what this means, nor do I have a cowboy hat.
They've clearly tried to upgrade the music area, with a beautiful promenade. Better to walk there in broad early daylight, not edging into the evening as we were.
Lucky shot of the Cumberland River, with sun shining on the pedestrian bridge over it.
Somewhere in this seething mass of people is the immortal Ryman Auditorium. The whole Nashville visit was kinda depressing...the air reeked like a 3 day drunk. Sigh.
G2 has already referenced the dead skunk in the middle of the road, but our other songs of the day are:
Rhinestone Cowboy (by Glen Campbell)--brought on by bedazzler threats.
Take the Last Train to Clarkesville (by the Monkees)--Who knew the Monkees had deep roots in Tennessee?
Thank You Miss Rosa (by the Neville Brothers)--driving down Rosa Park Blvd.
Cumberland Blues (Grateful Dead)--The Cumberland River
ST and Tala, call me one way or t'other.
No comments:
Post a Comment