Tennessee is the Shit

***Read At Your Own Risk Disclaimer: If the title of this blog offends you, probably you will not like the rest of this post. I apologize for the crass word but there really is no other way to describe what I am about to (which you will see if you chose to continue reading).

Some of my very best friends and I spent Wednesday through Sunday in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee near Gatlinberg. While there, I felt like I was in a different world at times. For the first time I realized that Jeff Foxworthy wasn't really joking. I love different people and appreciate diversity, but some things you just gotta laugh at. Here's just a few of them:

"Shut it" just doesn't have the same ring to it here in Illinois. Our neighbors, Robin and Wanda had brought their grandkids with them camping. They had been to this particular campground 25+ years, since they were teenagers. Let me tell you, these women rocked the fanny packs and the leopard print cover ups! Sometimes you could hear them shouting at the children to "Shut it" or "Stop it" and it kinda cracked you up because it had absolutely no affect whatsoever!

Even if they didn't yell, I don't think that these children would be very compliant. One night they wanted to throw rocks and so that's just what they did-- they threw them at their Mamaws van, at the road, at the bath house and finally after a chorus of "Stop it"'s from Robin and Wanda; the trash can. So their poor friend Kenny who takes out it trash in the morning had to haul a bagful of rocks down to the dumpster. He was always trying to talk to us, but I had a rough time understanding what he was saying- like the one police officer from Hot Fuzz.

You gotta give these kids this though- hands down they are the most creative kids I have ever met. They made water balloons out of ziplocks with holes in them to take to the parade in case there was someone they didn't like they needed to throw it at. They collected small smooth rocks... for an aquarium bottom of course!

The best part was when "Earl" visited. I say "Earl" because I do not really know if that is his name... but for the sake of the length of the blog I figured it would be more convenient to call him "Earl" than "that one guy who wore a steel tipped boots and a CAT hat and a belt with a cheery knife and eagle design burned into it who drank his beer out of a Styrofoam cup and a pack of cigarettes in his t-shirt pocket." He was talking to Alli and I about the recession and referenced a company we were unfamiliar with. "You know..." he said,"they buy shit to blow up shit." Why didn't you say that in the first place Earl? Now we know exactly which one you're talking about! He let his 5 year old grandson sit on top of the roof of the mini-van while he listened to Taylor Swift and a few other WIVK 107.7 hits. Once Earl decided to take his beer with him to the public washroom(!), his grandson got a little bored (and yelled at by Wanda) and slid down the windshield and then jumped onto the porch of their cabin. The first time was so fun he did it again and ...again ... and again. When Papaw Earl came back from the washroom he accidentally spilled some beer on his grandson. " Papaw spilled beer on me...." Forgive the pun but the "grand-daddy" of them all was when Papaw Earl came to build us a fire. He wasn't real convinced that we knew how to make a fire- well, to be honest "we" didn't, but Sarah sure did. She took a wilderness survival class! Earl would not hear it though- he brought over the many empty beer boxes and put them on our logs- even brought some of his own logs and lit that baby as bright as Dollywood on the 4th of July. He didn't really know how to make a fire either it seemed- it took awhile for the logs to light, but he did get some pretty high flames going. The children were fascinated by this and wanted to help make the flames go higher, so periodically they would come over with a bunch of napkins and throw them in. After Robin and Wanda's cries to "Stop it" failed I decided to teach them about fire safety. Smokey the Bear also appeared at this point and we turned into cartoons. I tried to teach them about the amber parts of the fire and how hot they were- how great a place it was to roast marshmallows. I tried to tell them to throw the napkin on it and then step back. I tried to tell them to leave it alone in the fire once they put it in. This was not very satisfying to them at all. Finally they were called away to go see the parade. A couple nights later they made a fire, but didn't have any kindling. Resourceful as ever, the children ran into the ladies bathroom and brought some toilet paper out to put on the fire. That night there was only 1 stall left with TP in it.

Other miscellaneous moments:
When we first arrived at camp we overheard a conversation about being taken "back to jail"... oh shit!
We watched as a woman took her dog into the shower with her...no shit!
We saw a man go with his wife into the ladies bathroom and 10 minutes later emerge showered with her...are you shitting me?!
We also overheard a conversation when a man was talking about a show with black actors that was "not bad for black people." REALLY? So tired of this SHIT!
Did I mention that when Earl was helping us with the fire we saw the full moon also?... we did... If you give a shit.