BetterMost Community Blogs > Shakestheground's Rumblings
Shakesthegrounds Rumblings
injest:
--- Quote from: Shakestheground on January 28, 2008, 09:08:30 pm ---So we all piled in my car, me, Paul, Chuck and Wulf, and took off up the parkway, past Mabry Mill, past Chateau Morrisette, which makes the most insanely sweet whine on earth, you should just boil it down and shoot the sugar directly into your veins, over the hills and hollers to 221, up thru Floyd to The Historic Pine Tavern (http://www.thepinetavern.com/) and found a parking spot. It was dark and seemed late, but it was proally about 7 pm. I told the guys about the pavilion out back where I had seen in separate shows Maria Mouldur and Leon Russell. Their reactions were and I won't say who: "Maria Mouldur, really?", "who is Maria Mouldur?" and "...Midnight at the Oasis....put your camels to bed..."
--- End quote ---
I KNOW I KNOW!!!
;D ;D ;D ;D
(who said what I mean)
Shakesthecoffecan:
So we cruised down the western side of Florida, past Bardenton, Sarasota, Ft. Meyers, Cape Coral, thru Naples, which was already starting to seem like then end of the world and then out on the way to Santibelle.
We had wanted to go here for the sea shells, there was supposed to be a lot of them. And there was right many, after finally reaching the beach. My second time seeing the Gulf of Mexico, this time with waves and wind. We passed thru the gentrified neighborhoods, the She Sells Sea Shells By The Seashore Shops, boat places, real estate companies with nauseating names like Prestige, Luxury, Executive. My mind filling the spaces behind those signs with little plastic people full of selfserving drama and intrigue. Hey, thats a good name.....
The beach had soft yellowish sand, and millions of tiny shells piled up and people raking Thur them. Some I had never seen before. We walked a bit, but it was already after 5 pm and we were needing to reach our destination and get a phone charger because I had left both of mine at home.
While in, my the powers that be forgive me, walmart, I got a call from the cat feeder. He was concerned for Crybaby, who he said, produced more shit than he had ever seen come out of a cat in his life.
Shakesthecoffecan:
--- Quote from: jstephens9 on January 28, 2008, 09:16:22 pm ---Hey Truman, I didn't want you to think I had forgotten about you since I hadn't come to visit your thread in so long. I have just been having problems accepting what happened and the time I have spent on was in the Heath threads. And I just loved your postcard that you sent me. Thanks so much!!!!!!!!!
Jack
--- End quote ---
Your welcome Jack and I mean it, you come on up here anytime you want, they didn;t drink all my liquor! :laugh:
loneleeb3:
--- Quote from: Shakestheground on January 28, 2008, 09:08:30 pm ---So we all piled in my car, me, Paul, Chuck and Wulf, and took off up the parkway, past Mabry Mill, past Chateau Morrisette, which makes the most insanely sweet whine on earth, you should just boil it down and shoot the sugar directly into your veins, over the hills and hollers to 221, up thru Floyd to The Historic Pine Tavern (http://www.thepinetavern.com/) and found a parking spot. It was dark and seemed late, but it was proally about 7 pm. I told the guys about the pavilion out back where I had seen in separate shows Maria Mouldur and Leon Russell. Their reactions were and I won't say who: "Maria Mouldur, really?", "who is Maria Mouldur?" and "...Midnight at the Oasis....put your camels to bed..."
Inside we were seated and fed but our grandfather across the room did not volunteer to pick up the check. The catfish was very good, as was the bread and the Chow-Chow, which I did not know was Jamaican. I wonder how it got to Appalachia? It was a good meal and good conversation and the occasional crash of dishes in the kitchen and a dedicated mother walking her daughter with cerebral palsy thru a few times.
I had big hopes for the Floyd Country store that night, but it was kinds of hoe-hum. Turkey hat man was there, and Jerrold the stick man and Glynnis and her ample figure but alas no Over All boy. (Dammit) and it was way too hot and no place to sit and little room to stand and we were all full as ticks.
They tried to determine who had come the furtherest to give the a Floyd Country Store hat and I was hoping it would be one of my crew, but there was a fella from Oregon and another from Prince Edward Island, who had a hard time convincing the M.C. that Oregon was actually further away than Prince Edward Island and then there was the guy who had to get up and come over and tell him that his mother was from Newfoundland and on and on. Then they drew the door prize which was tickets to a concert headlines by Emmilou Harris and Shawn Colvin and the woman who won them must have been 100 years old. She was none too enthused and my mind went on in directions with horrible implications and if we are all lucky them tickets went to some grandchild or expired on the kitchen table.
Cmon, I said, tels go home and build a fire and watch a movie. Which we did, Paul demonstrating his inherited ability with the tongs, Chuck keeping us entertained with the latest adventures of stoopid gurl and Wulf, smiling, just taking it all in. :)
--- End quote ---
I love the Pine Tavern!!
My Cousins Husbands grandparents had their 75th anniversary party there.
Oh I miss home.
Thanks for writing about it.
Shakesthecoffecan:
We stayed up until 2am, watching Latter Days, which Chuck had not seen before. I just love Steve Sandvoss. I also think I can say that twice and mean it. I just love Steve Sandvoss. Then we retired and I was so glad Wulf had a real bed to sleep in this time because last year in West Virginia he had to sleep on one of them fold out sofas that are so uncomfortable and always make me think of my spastic cousin John who I have no idea if he is dead or alive. It was a good slumber party, and we kept our wits about us.
We slept in until 9 am the next morning and rose to a gorgeous warm day. A breakfast of grits and cantelope and Kona coffee. Got us ready for a day in the car. We tried calling Jack, who was unable to join us. He was there is spirit though. We set out antiquing. I took them first to the Mayberry store. It is a ramshacked old place, the only remnant of the town that was once there. My cousin Dell runs it, having inherited it from her Aent Addie, when she died a few years ago at 102. She comes out there and opens it up in the winter some days when she feels like it, for something to do. There is not much traffic on the parkway in the winter. Then we went to Meadowns of Dan, another soon to be ghost town as the Virginia Department of Highways, Transportation and Destruction of the Environment in their mission to cover as much of the earth as possible with asphalt, built a by pass around the town the other year and now the tourist dollars miss it an continue unabated to I77 and other destinations. They have an excellent crap store there. You can buy all kinds of crap from Confederate flags to slated hams slices to all kinds of jelly, refrigerator magnets, cds, books, stoneware, old jars, toys, moon pies, possum pies and Blenheim Gingerale.
We had lunch there. Ate out on the covered porch at an octagonal table and marveled at the absolute disgustingness of Cane Cola, which is so saturated a syringe would melt before you could inject yourself with it, I think that is why it comes in real glass bottles.
From there we headed east on 58 to a junk shop I knew of, old building leaning forward propitiously, it will be out in the road one day and people will have to lay on the brakes to keep from hitting it. Most of the good stuff had been move from it to a shed next door where granny and grandson hovered around a kerosene heater and let us have the run of the place.
Only Chuck could come to Appalachia and go to a junk shop and find a book on Frank Sinatra. There was shit everwhere. Someones photo album from 1918 of their escapades, no names, a few locations, people who had lives documented their fun, their happiness and well clothers adventures just after the great war. Shelves of glass, 45 rpm records, butter churns, and on a shelf, waiting for us as a sign from the beyond that had bring us together: a hat box. "Resistol Self Conforming Hats" it said.
Now we know why Jack wore a Resistol. He was conforming to no one.
No I didn't. What would I do with it? Sometimes having a picture of something is better than having the thing itself.
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