The Lawrence Welk of Southern Barbecue

Ladies and gentlemen... I am humbled. And I'm stuffed. I'm stuffed with humility.

I don't know if it's all southern barbecues, or just Tennessee, or just the one that I went to... But DAMN!

I want to thank Monica Smith and all her friends for their hospitality, generosity, and culinary skill. The cookout that I attended on Memorial Day was splendid. Ribs and wings cooked so amazingly that the meat fell right off the bone and melted in your mouth. Brats and hot dogs that were a juicy, savory flavor explosion with every bite. Potato salad, pasta salad, chips, brownies, cookies, beer, soda, and enough margaritas to sink the Mexican navy.

The weather cooperated for the most part. A respectable rain showed up for about five minutes and then ran away. The sun was out most of the day, and a steady, gentle, cool breeze blew through the tents. The tables were aligned end-to-end. The children played on their toy bikes.

There were even two tiny, plastic lawn mowers being pushed around. When the mowers began to blow bubbles, Tim, a bearded man of his early forties, turned his head and his eyes widened. "I may be crazy, but I thought I just saw bubbles comin' outta that there lawn mower."

"You never seen that before," I said? "Oh yeah, all lawn mowers do that nowadays."

Tim was shocked. "That there's like the Lawrence Welk of lawn mowers," he exclaimed in his oaked, Tennessee accent. I began to laugh at the random association. Tim saw that he had struck a chord with me and proceeded to push it a bit further. And when this southern man went into his Lawrence Welk impression, I dubbed over and clenched my gut in breathless hysteria. Tim pinched his voice up into the back of his throat and nasal cavity, saying "Tank you, tank you. Vee heff had a vunderful time herr diss evening. But zih grass is now short, our feet are tired, zee chicken vings heff all been eaten, unt zee lawn mawer is all out of sawp. So vee vill see you again soon. But for now, good night, sleep tight, auf wiedersein."

It wasn't just the fact that the impression was unexpected, but that his impression was nearly flawless - the voice, the accent, and the content . I am a big fan of mimicry. As many of you know, I consider myself to be something of an artist in the field. And this guy was damn good.

When I started breathing again, Tim returned to his native speech. "Now, c'n you imagine what that was like back then? That must 'a been a damn good time. Th' Lawrence Welk show. That ma'an could play s'm damn good music. Had a lot a talent on that show. Yes, sir. That there was music and entertainment from a real simple time."

"Simple time," I thought to myself. I looked around. You know what I saw? Sun. Shade. Delicious food. Cold drinks. Fun people.

A simply wonderful Memorial Day. My heartfelt thanks for such graciousness. "Tank you, tank you."