Up Down South

I left Atlanta just after 1pm on Friday. I made it to Tullahoma by 4pm CST. (Marion County, TN and westward are on Central Time. That includes Tullahoma. That includes me.) Once I crossed into the Volunteer State, the thunderstorms began. Five to thirty minutes on, one to two hours off for the remainder of the day and well into the evening.

Upon unloading my car, I made a frustrating discovery. My laptop was not among my belongings. I checked back several times with the wonderful staff of the Crowne Plaza Perimeter NW of Atlanta, GA (and my gratitude is genuine), to see if it had been found or turned in, the final word came with a phone call I made before getting in the shower, around 10:30. “No, Mister Toll. I’m sorry but we still haven’t found it.” Gone, baby. Gone.

My cell phone charger was in the bag. I had already bought a new one at the local Radio Shack yesterday. After all, I was low on juice, and if my phone, my last link to the information that would get me safely though the acclimation process was dead, I was totally screwed. Fortunately, I had the forethought to ask the clerk if there was a Best Buy around. The nearest one was in Murphreesboro.

After my shower yesterday morning, I hopped on I-24 -- Destination: Murphreesboro. I stopped at a music store, which I happened upon, to buy an electric tuner for my guitar; an item of which I happened to be in need. The gents behind the counter worry happy to direct me to Best Buy when I completed the purchase.

So this new Toshiba is an update of my last one. New features include a built-in webcam, Windows Vista (which isn’t nearly as evil as it is made out to be), and the ability to burn DVDs. I also bought and installed Office, so now I can write. Most of my important files, also by way of good fortune and forethought, have either been backed up on a flash drive, or they are stored as attachments in my email box.

On my way back from Murphreesboro, I pulled off of TN-55 when I saw a sign that said “TVA NORMANDY DAM.” I decided to go on a bit of an adventure. I never found the dam. It seems some signs are missing. But I did find the river, though I don’t know which one. (I’d use Google Maps, but I lack the internet access at this time.) I got out in a dirt / gravel parking area on the side of the road. There were a couple of trails through the woods, but I also saw a concrete staircase which I soon found led to a steel footbridge – a walkway attached to the side of the bridge. I walked about a quarter of the way out, just enough to see around the trees. A small fishing boat with an outboard motor cut through the black water, slowly making its way up the river. Below me, I heard splashing and voices. Looking down through the grates, I saw some high school aged kids swimming. This looks like an apt place to cool off when the heat gets overly oppressive.

In other news, I found a barber shop and got my first haircut in Tullahoma. In the parking lot of the barbershop was a young lady, no older than twenty years of age. Blonde hair, freckles, short sleeves rolled up to the shoulder to even out a farmer’s tan. Farmer’s burn. She had a mini yard sale set up on and around her car.

Leaning against the hood on the passenger side was a seven-foot fishing pole with a new reel, already spooled with new line. There was even a hook already rigged on the lead, with three rounds of split-shot. She was even kind enough to tell me where I could find a good bait shop and a good spot to cast. “I know all about the fishin’ ‘round here,” she proudly began in her South Appalachian accent. “There’s a lake not far from here, a few miles down the road. You c’n cast from the shore if you ain’t got a boat. And they keep it well-stocked. You c’n catch yourself some nice cat fish in there.”

I asked her what she recommended for bate. “Depends whatchu wanna catch, Ah s’pose. But down at the bait shop, right next to the bowlin’ alley, you cn’ git anythang you need. They got worms, minnows, crickets.”

Suffice it to say that the past few days have had their ups and downs. It hasn't all been gravy. But I'm survivin'. It’s now Sunday morning and I’m about to head out to find a free wireless signal to glob off of, so I can publish this posting, check my email, et cetera.

This selection is from Hank Williams Jr., aka “Bocephus.”

--

Because you can’t starve us out

And you cant makes us run

Cause one-of- ‘em old boys raisin ole shotgun

And we say grace and we say Ma’am

And if you ain’t into that we don’t give a damn

--

We came from the West Virginia coalmines

And the Rocky Mountains and the and the western skies

And we can skin a buck; we can run a trot-line

And a country boy can survive

Country folks can survive

(Uploaded via the WiFi at McDonalds. Two birds. One stone.)