A Funny Thing Happened on Our Way Out of Walmart...

First and foremost, this isn't a blog about an experience I had with a Walmart so much as it is a blog about an experience I happened to have had while I was at a Walmart. There is a difference, obviously. While I've had plenty of reasons to develop a sense of disdain for Walmart over the years (case in point, this post from all the way back in March of 2011 - "Reason #340,781 to avoid Wal-Mart") I'm not going to drag the company into the mud when it's not deserved. No, this is more of a look inside the minds of the kind of people you encounter while at Walmart.

My wife & I have something of a routine on Sundays. We typically get up around 7:30 AM, get ready for church, go to church, and then when we're dismissed from the worship service we go to Walmart to pick up our provisions for the week. (Occasionally we'll have lunch out with my Mom as well but that doesn't happen every week.) We attend Cornerstone Community Church in Orangeburg, South Carolina so, of course, we go to the Walmart in Orangeburg. Could we shop elsewhere? Sure we could, but we go to Walmart because of the same reason everyone else goes to Walmart - it's convenient and, generally speaking, the prices are better there.

This past Sunday (September 21, 2014) was different than usual as that particular day we were on our way back from a brief overnight trip to Myrtle Beach, SC. Our plan was to drop off our bags at home then come into Orangeburg to get our supplies as well as pick up our dog, who was being looked after by my Mom.

It was around 3 PM by the time we made it to Walmart. I know my wife well enough to know that she wasn't looking forward to being there at that time of day. Going to Walmart early on a Sunday morning as we normally do (almost invariably we're out of church by 10:30 AM) is ideal for a number of reasons, primary among them being the fact that there aren't as many people there, meaning it's a bit easier to get in and out than it would be otherwise. Judging by the volume of cars in the parking lot, it looked like a fair segment of the population of Orangeburg had beaten us to the punch. To show you how different my wife and I are in regard to our individual attitudes about this shopping excursion, my only fear as we made our way into the store that day was whether or not there would be any good bananas left.

Because, priorities.

We rounded up our supplies (Jill gathered sustenance while I went in search of wheel & tire cleaner and other necessities), paid our bill (just over $80), and made our way to the exit. Heading out of the store I had command of our shopping cart, as I do more often than not. After having walked past the salon, the manicure/pedicure shop, and a cavalcade of oddly positioned merchandise displays (we're not certain but it appears as though some sort of renovations are being done to this store) I navigated past the first set of sliding doors, on into the void between the store and the outside world, then finally I passed through the final set of sliding doors.

Before I go further, I feel as though a visual aide is in order.

What you see here is an image taken from Google Maps of the entrance/exit we were using that day at the Walmart in Orangeburg. There is nothing unique about it as this is an example of what you can expect to find if you were to look at a similar view of pretty much any Walmart. You can see the building, the cars, the parking lot, and most importantly the white painted (albeit faded) lines on the asphalt directly in front of the store. If you weren't aware, these lines denote a pedestrian crosswalk, a construct that is also made noticeable to oncoming motorists via accompanying signage (yes, this is one of the actual signs at the Walmart in question).

For guidelines regarding how the operator of a motor vehicle is to conduct themselves when they approach a pedestrian crosswalk, let us refer to section 56-5-3130 of the South Carolina Code of Laws, which states:

When traffic-control signals are not in place or not in operation the driver of a vehicle shall yield the right-of-way, slowing down or stopping if need be to yield to a pedestrian crossing the roadway within a crosswalk when the pedestrian is upon the half of the roadway upon which the vehicle is traveling or when the pedestrian is approaching so closely from the opposite half of the roadway as to be in danger.

I looked both ways as I exited the store that day to make sure there weren't any oncoming cars nearby. I saw one to my right but it appeared to be far enough away that I would be able to begin crossing the distance from the store to the parking lot as I, being a pedestrian, would've had the right of way. As I got about halfway between the store and the lot I noticed this car didn't appear to be slowing down - it wasn't going all that fast but it also wasn't showing signs of yielding.

I kept walking.

The car slowed a bit but was still coming towards me.

I kept walking. By this point I'm probably 75% of the way to my objective.

The car keeps coming - slowly, but it's still coming.

I'm about 85% of the way across the crosswalk. The front bumper of the car (a black Ford Focus sedan, similar to the one my wife owns oddly enough) is now so close to me that I had to angle our buggy out of its path else it would've struck the cart. I stop dead in my tracks then turn my head so that I'm looking directly at the driver of the car, a black woman wearing sunglasses (the kind that make the wearer's eyes look like that of a bulbous insect). She looked back at me, expressionless - we were in something of a duel at that moment, waiting to see who would make the next move. Suddenly her passenger, a black male, shouted at me through the open window on his side of the car, saying "You need to look around!" I began pushing our buggy out of harms way and as I was doing so I pointed at the ground then said back to the passenger "It's called a pedestrian crosswalk..." It was meaningless effort, but it made me feel a little better.

I know what some of you are probably thinking. "You idiot, that woman could've run you over and you just kept walking in the road!" Yes, that's entirely possible. I could have stopped at the moment I first noticed she wasn't going to slow down and let her pass. I didn't do that because I had decided there was a point to be made in standing my ground, however chauvinistic it may have been. I'm not the one who deserves to be chided for their behavior in this scenario because the driver of that car had decided, willfully and without provocation, that she had no problem with hitting another human being with her vehicle.

Why? I'm a 34-year old white guy. I'm speaking directly to the driver of that car here - would you have been so bold as to aim your car at me if I were a black guy of the same age? (Oh yeah, I'm going there.) Or perhaps if I were a little old black lady who was just out to pick up a gallon of milk and some bread? Do you still want to run me over or do you yield? Likewise, what if it had been my wife in my place or possibly a child? Are you still alright with potentially killing someone or does the race, age, gender, etc. of your potential victim have something to do with your decision?

Would it have been worth injuring me or damaging the buggy and our groceries to say "I belong here and you don't"? I don't think there's a personal injury lawyer in this state that wouldn't have been knocking at my hospital room door had she actually done harm to me. I can only assume she would've been fine with going to jail for that act. I don't know what kind of jail time a vehicular assault conviction carries but I'm sure it's not pleasant (or so I would hope). What would her defense have been, "He shouldn't have been walking where I was driving..."?

I guess I shouldn't be surprised that people like this woman exist. I think we encounter people of poor character every day, unfortunately, but they reveal themselves in varying degrees. Sometimes they might drop an empty soda can out the window of their car, then sometimes they might cheat on their husband with one of their co-workers. Sometimes they might eat a few grapes off the bunch they intend to buy while walking around a store, sometimes they might beat their son with a broom handle when he wets the bed. Sometimes they might take an extra newspaper from the box, sometimes they might bring a pistol into a crowded movie theater. My point being to say that we never know what evil exists inside of a person until it's let loose into the world and by then it's too late. You just have to hope you're not the one who winds up on the receiving end when the levy finally breaks.

Wrestlers & Promoters vs. South Carolina's Athletic Commission

It goes without saying that these days in the United States our government - be it on the local, state, or federal level - likes to have its hands in whatever it is we, as citizens, are doing. Indeed, it seems as though there aren't many aspects of our lives that aren't in some way regulated by Uncle Sam or one of his subordinates. Even though that presents a set of issues in terms of "the land of the free" feeling more like "the land of big brother", the fact of the matter is that it's not all bad. I, for one, am happy with the fact that because I pay my taxes I'll be able to dial 911 on my telephone, should the need arise, and get assistance from someone who knows precisely what to do.

There are, however, a lot of things that government does that make me rub my furry chin and wonder "What the heck are they thinking?" And so it goes that, typically speaking, government regulations fall into one of two categories - useful or mostly pointless. It isn't often you find something that gets wedged in between the two but in my eyes that's where things stand right now in regard to a new batch of licensing requirements being imposed upon professional wrestlers, promoters, and other individuals seeking to participate in good, old fashioned rasslin' events here in the state of South Carolina.

The South Carolina Athletic Commission is a division of the state Department of Labor, Licensing, and Regulation. In a nutshell, the SCAC exists for the same reason as other governmental bodies having to do with providing protection for members of the workforce through a code of laws from employers who would potentially put their employees in at-risk conditions or environments. They're something of the enforcement branch when it comes to keeping things in line as far as regulations pertaining to professional sports like boxing, mixed martial arts, and pro wrestling are concerned (yes, you read that correctly - according to their logic pro wrestling is, in fact, a legitimate combat sport).

There are a couple of states that do not have an athletic commission, period, and yet there are also states with an athletic commission that does not include professional wrestling in its scope. North Carolina falls into the latter category and Georgia did as well up until around 2008 when that state enacted a sweeping set of changes that put it in line with South Carolina's operating policies in regard to pro wrestling. (Some believe their abrupt adoption of such regulations was a reaction to the murder-suicide involving Chris Benoit who happened to have been living in Georgia at the time he committed the heinous acts that have forever tarnished his legacy as a wrestler.) This would seem to be because of the fact that (*SPOILER ALERT*) professional wrestling isn't an actual sport but more akin to performance art such as theater or ballet. Yes, I just compared pro wrestling to ballet - because comparing it to clogging or the symphony would've been too silly, although now that I think about it clogging is an applicable analogy seeing as how both it and wrestling require specialized footwear.

The SCAC has been in the business of regulating such things as boxing and pro wrestling for as long as I have been following the independent professional wrestling scene in South Carolina, which I began doing back around 1999. (MMA wasn't big enough to have been worth the trouble back then, however the SCAC does now also oversee those events as well.) Wrestlers and promoters alike didn't seem to have much use for the SCAC fifteen years ago, and matters between the two sides have mostly only gotten worse.

So what does the SCAC require of boxers, MMA fighters, professional wrestlers, individuals promoting such events, and certain members of staff? Paperwork and money, naturally. What else would you expect from the government?

When it comes to professional wrestling, all wrestlers (which is kind of a blanket term for anyone who will be performing in the show as characters who are managers also fall into this category), announcers, referees, and promoters have to be individually licensed. "What good is the license?", you ask. That's an excellent question.

When we see the word "license", it more often than not is an implication that the person holding said license has qualified to act in whatever capacity the license permits. Medical technicians, truck drivers, and many other folks working in all kinds of specialized trades are licensed professionals. In each of these instances the license indicates that the holder of said document has been legally recognized as being able to perform whatever task (or tasks) to which the license applies because they have received training on how to do it and that they more than likely have passed some type of qualifications process. All a license from the SCAC insures is that the holder of the license got a physical, filled out some paperwork, and sent in a check to cover the cost of the salary of whoever it was that had to take the time to verify their information. There is no assurance that the individual has received proper training, just that they were willing to jump through a series of hoops to appease the powers that be.

Promoters must also go through the process of obtaining a license but for them it's more of a business license. In addition, promoters must submit permit applications on a per event basis to the SCAC. What this boils down to is the that the SCAC, as a regulatory body, is keeping tabs on who is running what shows, where, and when.

You might be wondering "Why is the SCAC so interested in this kind of data?" It goes back to what I said before about the SCAC being an offshoot of LLR and acting as an overseer for the sake of maintaining safe working conditions. A promoter is an employer and as such they are responsible for the safety of their employees - it just so happens that in this example an employer can justifiably ask one of their employees to jump off a 15 foot high steel cage.

Everything I've covered heretofore has been in place for quite some time. The paperwork, the physicals, all that stuff has been standard procedure for anyone who wants to legally run a show in the state of South Carolina for at least a decade (more on "legal" versus "illegal" events and how the SCAC has been used by competing companies to combat one another later). What's different now are the fees associated with these filings and as you might expect it's what's really gotten under the skin of quite a few people involved with indie pro wrestling here in South Carolina - but it's also being heralded as a long overdue move by others.

A new fee structure was put in place this year for individuals seeking licensing from the SCAC regarding being able to promote or participate in pro wrestling events. The filing fee now stands at $75 per year for all wrestlers, referees, and announcers. You would hope that they'd be able to recoup that money fairly easily - one good night at the gimmick table for a wrestler could take care of it. (Referees and announcers aren't so lucky, I'm afraid.) Fees for promoters were increased as well. A promoters license will set you back $150 per year. On top of this, promoters are expected to pay $150 per event to receive a permit plus 2% of the gate (ie, profit from ticket sales) is supposed to go directly to the SCAC within 10 days of an event. That last one is important because on the eleventh day after an event the SCAC can levy a $250 fine against the promoter as well as an additional $250 fine every ten days until the gate fee is submitted.

Hitting someone in their wallet is one of the most effective ways of making them take notice of the situation at hand. This is why fines for traffic violations are what they are - because they make a lasting impression. People who perform at these events aren't being affected nearly as much as promoters are. When you consider the fact that they're looking at $300 in expenses before they even sell their first ticket and that they'll still have to cover things like the cost of flyers & promotional materials, building rental, payroll, and more, the prospect of being a wrestling promoter in South Carolina suddenly doesn't seem like a very rewarding occupation. And no, I don't think there are any promoters out there who do what they do because they think it's a worthwhile hobby. If they have that much money to burn, they should try contributing to society in more worthwhile methods.

[SIDE NOTE: I have noticed that World Wrestling Entertainment, Total Non-stop Action/Impact Wrestling, Ring of Honor, and other companies do not hold events in South Carolina with any sense of frequency anymore. WWE, in the past, has run 4-6 shows in South Carolina in a single year, some being televised and others being house shows. I'm working off of memory here so I may be wrong but I recall only two WWE events in South Carolina during 2014. The last WWE event I attended was in November of 2013, that being a non-televised show at Colonial Life Arena in Columbia, SC. Certainly there are other factors at play in their decision making scheme but I sincerely believe that this trend is at least in part due to the fact that these promotions would sooner tour in other states than have to deal with the SCAC.]

The topic at hand now becomes how these changes may affect the state of indie professional wrestling in South Carolina. There are those in the wrestling community who have made it very clear via social media that they feel like this is the SCAC's way of milking promotions for all they're worth, leaving the SCAC to count their money and promoters to count their blessings. (For their input on the matter, search "SC Wrestlers Unite" on Facebook or click this link - https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100004846577863) Meanwhile there are others who take this in the opposite direction, that it will serve as something of a cleanse for indie pro wrestling in the state of South Carolina, the idea being that those who can't afford to be in business probably shouldn't be in business.

Personally, I can see things both ways.

On the one hand, there are quite a few dirt bag promoters operating in South Carolina giving our scene a bad name who could likely be shut down by this new batch of regulations. That sort of thing has happened in the past, though, as every so often a little bird would drop a message to the SCAC about a promotion running in a given town that didn't have proper approval for the event. Those "little birds" were more often than not sent out by other promoters who'd gotten wind of a rival moving in on their turf. The target of such attacks might have been an inexperienced promoter who didn't know any better, or it might have been some lifetime carny who just wanted to see how well he could do in a new part of the world. How better than to take out the competition than by having a government regulator close them down? Why expend the energy needed to beat them when you can send Johnny Law after them (so long as you yourself are up to snuff, obviously)?

Then on the other hand you have the fact that this turn of events will likely leave only the cream of the crop in terms of promoters and talent to operate in South Carolina. I don't have a problem with this because, as I have said in the past and as you can likely tell from the wrestling-related content I share via this blog and other means, I am most definitely what you would consider a wrestling snob. As a fan, I don't care to blindly "support indie wrestling" as some who exist in the community would encourage me to do. (That's like saying you should go to restaurants you know are mediocre because they're mediocre.) "Upward wrestling", if you will, where everyone gets a championship belt and everyone feels like they're on the same level as John Cena. Give me a break, for crying out loud!

The law of survival of the fittest applies in all aspects of life. Some people (wrestlers and promoters alike) need to have their egos squashed because they've been allowed to gluttonously sit at the fattening trough of absurdity for far too long. They've become accustomed to having their posterior kissed by others who believe, falsely and for whatever reason, that doing so will amount to their advancement.

The truth is that a cull, for lack of a better term, wouldn't be the worst thing to ever happen to professional wrestling in this state. Even so, my biggest problem with the status of things regarding how the state of South Carolina wants to be involved in the professional wrestling business now is the same as it has always been, that enforcement of these regulations doesn't seem to be even. Despite the fact that this is 2014 and that government likes to tout itself as being more transparent than it has ever been, in a lot of ways this is still very much a good ol' boy state. It has been my experience that some promotions would seemingly get shaken down every time they tried to have an event whereas others never seemed to ever get so much as a visit from an SCAC representative. Perhaps that's different now but it certainly wasn't in the past.

Labor Day Weekend 2014 in Pigeon Forge, TN

After the events of the past couple weeks, my wife and I were both at a point (emotionally, physically, and whatever other words you can think of that ends in "ally" that would imply having experienced a whole bunch of stress) where we needed some time away from home to rest, relax, and hopefully get our minds back to where they needed to be. The Labor Day holiday presented us with an opportunity to do exactly that as we whipped up a plan with haste to get ourselves to Pigeon Forge, Tennessee for the three-day weekend.

My family & I used to go to Pigeon Forge quite frequently when I was a child. I have many, many fond memories of having stayed at a hotel there called the River Lodge and of floating down the river behind it in a tube. (What, you expected there not to be a river near a joint called the River Lodge?) Even so, I want to say it has been more than 15 years since I was last there. I was certain that a lot would have changed to the town in that time but I was also confident that the quaint nature of it would still be intact.

Since this was a spur of the moment trip we had a few issues finding accommodations. Nothing major that put a chink in our plans, we just had to take what we could get instead of what we would've typically looked for in a hotel room. As an aside to this topic I'd like to say that it boggles my mind how a hotel room with a normal nightly rate of $45 suddenly becomes $100 a night just because of the demand created by a holiday - all I can say to that is I am most definitely in the wrong line of work. After having looked at condos, cabins, and rooms (some of which were recommended to us by friends and family), we settled on the Ramada Pigeon Forge South as it would be where we would call home for the next few days.

The estimated time it would take us to get there made it seem like we'd be able to make it without our arrival being too late in the evening, which is why we decided to hit the road after work on August 29. My wife & I work similar schedules so we packed up her car in advance to be ready for when the final whistle of the day sounded. After we dropped off our dog Roddy at my Mom's house for safe keeping (she's always willing to do anything for us and I can never be thankful enough for the fact that she's as generous as she is in this regard), we began to make our way along I-26 towards the upstate of South Carolina. We stopped along the way for supper at a Taco Bell - and yes, all you single guys out there, that's how you woo your lady right there. Tacos.

Having ingested our sustenance, we continued onward and upward (an accurate description if ever there was one seeing as how we'd be going up into the Smoky Mountains of North Carolina and Tennessee). I was in the driver's seat as Jill did not want to face the task of handling the winding roadways ahead. I have to say that the drive wasn't too challenging at first but as the sun set and darkness took over those mountain roads became a real test. Add in the volume of cars on the road due to the holiday as well as having to navigate in amongst the big rig trucks that dominate the highways and you can understand why my hands were cramping from having had a vice-like grip on the steering wheel.

Things took a turn for the worse along I-40 as we neared Pigeon Forge. I say that as if we had car trouble or something of the sort - in reality we had GPS trouble. Not in that it stopped working and we had no idea where to go, rather that the Google Maps application on my phone we were using to get us to where we were going decided that we would be better off to leave the interstate and take a road that wasn't much more than a goat path! (If you're ever going to Pigeon Forge or somewhere nearby and your GPS suggests that you take Hartford Road, DON'T DO IT.) I am not exaggerating when I tell you that this was the most insane stretch of road to encounter at night. It was barely wide enough for one car. There were a lot of hairpin turns and absolutely zero signage to indicate that you were coming up on them. You've heard the term "low shoulder"? Well in this case, "low shoulder" equated to a 20 foot drop off the side of the road into some random field. It was a terrifying ordeal but even so we eventually did get to our destination - we were mentally frazzled and in need of a good, stiff drink but we got there!

We checked into our room just shy of 11:30 PM. Seeing as how we got on the road around 5 PM, that meant we'd been at it for almost 6 and a half hours and my tailbone was feeling every bit of it. The rooms at the Ramada might not have been the most luxurious we've ever stayed in but the beds (yes, beds - try as we might we couldn't find a room with a single king) were quite the welcome sight for a pair of weary travelers like us.

The next morning we got up relatively early, as in around 8 AM, got ready for the day then wandered over to the breakfast area in the hotel lobby. (I use the phrase "wandered over" because of the fact that our room was on the first floor not more than 50 feet away from the lobby.) Continental breakfasts are a crap shoot - sometimes you get lucky, sometimes you wind up with a gut full of doughy carbohydrates. In this instance it was the latter, but we at least got to enjoy some tasty biscuits & gravy. Any meal that includes gravy is a victory in my eyes.

After breakfast we roamed around some of the shops near the Old Mill District, which (as you might assume) is a cluster of merchants set up around an old corn mill situated on the banks of the Pigeon River. The shops are, for the most part, all filled with the kind of wares that appeal only to tourists - baubles that will help someone remember the time they spent in Pigeon Forge. T-shirts, pottery, engraved word work, that sort of thing.

Moonshine distilleries have become a real draw for the area as there are quite a few of them set up along Pigeon Forge as well as in nearby Gatlinburg. One such operation is in the Old Mill District, that being the Old Forge Distillery. Seeing as how I had a stomach full of biscuits and danishes, I ponied up to the sampling bar and partook in a few selections. I have to say that if you're not a fan of whiskey no amount of trying it is going to change your mind. I happen to like it and I was really caught back by how many diverse flavor profiles the cooks behind the scenes in these operations have been able to come up with. I fell in love with their chocolate moonshine and purchased a jar of it!

After we'd been around the shops we decided it was time to eat lunch. On this day, that involved us visiting the Old Mill Restaurant, an eatery that came very highly recommended to us. Trust me when I say that we were not lead astray by those recommendations!

Everyone who eats at the Old Mill is greeted with a serving of their corn chowder and a basket of corn fritters served with maple-infused butter. I probably could have made a meal out of those alone! For our main courses, Jill selected the catfish fillets and I opted for the turkey & dressing. All meals off the lunch menu come served with two side items, green beans and mashed potatoes. I want to share the following photos of our meals before I tell you how much they cost us.

How much do you think you'd pay for a couple plates like those? Because they cost us $10.50 each, which is what every lunch menu item will cost you at the Old Mill. I had close to a pound of turkey on that plate - I cannot begin to tell you how tasty it was, and what an awesome value!

After that great meal we decided an adventure was in order. We had seen several advertisements and brochures for the Forbidden Caverns - I remembered visiting them from when I was a child but Jill had never been to a set of caverns, period. Getting there was easy as it's not much more than a short drive out of town and you're there; if you should decide to visit them yourself just be mindful of the fact that the road to the caverns is like a lot of the rural roadways in the area, that being narrow and winding.

The name "forbidden caverns" comes from a Native American story of a princess who died after she became trapped "in a hollow mountain of two streams", and because of this they considered the cave to be a place not too dissimilar from what other cultures might refer to as purgatory or Hades. Later on the caves were used by moonshiners as the constant flow of fresh spring water therein made it an ideal locale for their bootlegging operations. These days the caves are a popular tourist attraction that brings in visitors from all over the world.

After we toured the caverns we played what will hopefully go down as the most expensive game of putt-putt we'll ever play, that being a round of 18 holes at Old MacDonald's Farm Mini Golf. (It cost about $32 for the two of us!) The course was a lot of fun with its theming being all about Old MacDonald and the animals that make up his farm. Pigs, sheep, goats, and more will entertain you along the way. We played the Porky Putts course which was a par 43 - Jill & I both played quite well as we both finished under par but I got the Duke this particular round, besting her by the score of 41 to 42.

After our round of putt-putt we did a little bit more shopping before eating dinner at Blue Moose Burgers & Wings, a local sports bar & grill we happened upon that seemed like as good an option as any given that by that time of day the Clemson/Georgia football game was on television. Ironically enough, Jill & I were on a trip to Asheville, North Carolina last year when that game took place and we watched part of it from a Buffalo Wild Wings location. And just like last year at that restaurant, there were Clemson and Georgia faithful seemingly separated into their own sections at the Blue Moose. I half expected a knife fight to break out at any moment! The game was interesting, the crowd mostly civil, and the wings were tasty, which made the whole thing a great way to cap off our first full day in Tennessee.

For breakfast on the morning of Sunday, August 31 we decided to try another local favorite eatery, that being the Applewood Restaurant which is one of the primary components of the Apple Barn "campus" (for lack of a better term). The Applewood Restaurant is built out of what was once an old farmhouse - it's been modified since then, obviously, but the qualities that made it a home are reflected in the fact that everyone who dines there receives an experience crafted from the traditions of food, family, and fellowship.

We arrived at the restaurant very early as I thoroughly expected to have to wait an hour or more to get in. As it would turn out, we walked in and were seated immediately. (Jill says she never gets to sleep in on our vacations; I can't say I'm not at least partially responsible for that.) All guests at the Applewood Restaurant are initially treated to a basket of apple fritters and muffins served with their homemade apple butter (I could drown myself in apple butter, just so you know; it's one of my favorite things in the world) and a tasty concoction they call an apple julep - a combination of apple, pineapple, and citrus juices. For our meals, I chose the Farmhouse Special Breakfast and Jill had the Wild Blueberry Pancakes.

 

They are certainly selections meant to stick-to-your-ribs because you're going to be working in the fields all day - or, in our case, because you're going to be walking around Gatlinburg all day.

If you've never been there, the best way I can describe Gatlinburg, TN is to try to have you imagine a Walmart that sells nothing but tacky, themed merchandise chopped up into individual storefronts and stretched out along both sides of a roughly two mile long highway. If you've been to Ocean Boulevard in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina during the peak season when all the shops there are open you've more or less also been to Gatlinburg. Just swap out all the YOLO and SWAG t-shirts for ones with black bears or University of Tennessee logos. There are other attractions in the area, of course, like the Ripley's Aquarium and a number of fantastic restaurants (the highlight of our time there, for me, was seeing the Ole Smoky Moonshine Holler production facility and store), but they seem to be dwarfed in comparison to everything else. What blew us away was the sheer number of people and cars that were in town the day we were there. (Fortunately we got into Gatlinburg around 10 AM and were able to find a parking space.) The congestion seemed especially horrible, which I can only blame on the fact that we were there on a holiday weekend.

Once we'd had our fill of Gatlinburg we came back into Pigeon Forge to knock around town a bit before our dinner date - an evening of music, laughs, and food at the Hatfield & McCoy Dinner Show!

The Hatfield & McCoy Dinner Show is a comical take on the historical family feud that also involves dancers and bluegrass musicians. It's kind of odd that a rivalry so violent as to have spurred on a number of grisly murders could be turned into the subject of a comedy act - I'm sure the descendants of those families have been rewarded handsomely, monetarily speaking, for their involvement in the production.

Even so, the show itself was a fantastic presentation. You're fed a meal consisting of fried chicken, pulled pork bar-b-que, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, cole slaw, and biscuits before the performance begins. In my opinion, this is an area where they are doing things better than similar shows like Medieval Times or Dixie Stampede as I've always felt at those arenas your attention isn't on the performance because you've got a piece of chicken in your mouth. The whole event runs about 2 hours in length. If you enjoy comedic storytelling and country cooking, you won't get a much better combination of the two than at the Hatfield & McCoy theater. (That said, I will add that this show has a lot in common with the Hoop-Dee-Doo Musical Revue we saw at the Fort Wilderness Resort on the Walt Disney World property. It's close but I'm going to give the edge to Disney in comparing the two.)

Before we knew it, Monday morning rolled around and our time in Tennessee had drawn to a close. All there was left to do was check out of the hotel and deal with traffic. I'm not kidding when I say that it took us just shy of an hour to make our way along the stretch of I-40 where it connects with I-26. Other than that, the ride back was mostly uneventful which was great considering how stressful the ride up became.

Looking back on our time in Pigeon Forge, we sure did cram a lot into just two days worth of vacation. That seems to be how we live our lives, though - doing the best we can to take advantage of every opportunity we have to enjoy that with which we've been blessed. I wouldn't trade times like these for anything in this world.