A GOOD SMELL, A NEW FRIEND, AND A FRESH AIR MEAL!

Th' wife and I were driving through the Smoky Mountains in Tennessee.  We had been eatin' out for almost th' whole trip.  I looked at her and said, "You gettin' hungry darlin'"  She said, "Yeah."  I suggested that we pick up some summer sausage, crackers, cheese and stoppin' at a roadside park or overlook.  She liked that idea, so I started lookin' for a lil' store with gas.  Well there at th' base of one of these ol' mountains was just what I was lookin' for.  I pulled in and an ol' boy come runnin' out hollerin'. "Fill 'er up?"  I said, "Sure!" and then we went inside.  This place had old wooden plank floors, a long old wooden bar, a meat market, and groceries.  It had that good ol' "down home" smell to it too.  Th' kind of smell that you'd wish everybody that stays in th' city could experience, just once.  It's kinda an old, musky, dirt after a rain, oil top road, feather quilt, lye soap, fresh baked bread, beer, homemade smoked sausage, and fresh cut beef smell, all bundled up into one big fabulous aroma.  It really does smell good.  You'd have to be there to know what I was talkin' about.

 

Well, we got our fresh smoked summer sausage, a box of Nabisco crackers, a chunk of longhorn cheese, and two cans of Libby's Vienna sausages, just for good measure.  We went to th' cashier and she began to tally it up our items, when outta no where a loud voice shouts out, "Where you folks from?"  As I was turnin' around and shoutin', "Texas", at th' same time, I saw this big ol' lanky sucker, sittin' at th' bar, just a smilin', as he answered back, "Texas?"  I smiled back and said, "Yeah."  Then he said, "I don't know if I want to talk to nobody from Texas." and I said, "Well, I don't know if I wanna talk to anybody from Tennessee."  We looked real serious at each other for a while and then, as if we knew each other all our lives we began to laugh.  Almost instantly we became friends.  Without invitation, my wife and I went and sat at th' bar next to th' grizzly ol' gentleman.  We had a cold beer with him and we exchanged stories, with each other, for about half an hour.   Our hunger seemed to fade 'cause we were both havin' fun gabbin' with this ol' boy.  Finally, as it usually does with me, th' talk got around to politics.  He said, "What you think 'bout our gubmint?"  I bowed my head and said, "Partner, it's pretty sad."  He grinned and said, "It dang sure is!  This Obama fella got things all twisted up, but it ain't just him.  It's a bunch of 'em."  I agreed with him and we talked some more.  It was about three o'clock by now and my stomach was beginning to talk back to me.  My wife was givin' me th' ol', "it's time to go" eyeball too.  Well, I was just fixing to say our good bye's, when he said, "If ya got a minute, I'd like to give ya my take on this politickin' mess."  We both looked at each other and said, "Sure."

 

"You see" he said, "back in nineteen ninety, I believe it was, our ol' gubmint raided and seized a "cat house", some folks call it a brothel, although I don't know why.  Anyway, this thing was way out, in th' middle of no where, in Nevada.  These folks hadn't been payin' Uncle Sam like they should and th' G-Men stepped in and took control.  I'm sorry", he said, "G-men means gubmint men.  Well, this ol' cat house was called The Mustang Ranch and th' gubmint took complete control and was runnin' th' darn thing!  Can ya imagine that?  Gubmint runnin' a cat house.  Bust my gut!  Of course, this stuff was actually legal in Nevada.  Isn't that Ol' Harry Reid's state?  I think it is. Anyway th' darn thing failed.  Yep, th' gubmint could not keep this thing profitable.  That is unbelievable, ain't it?  Now, y'all keep your seats 'cause I ain't through yet.  Just a lil' bit longer, okay?"  We agreed and he continued.

 

"This is th' way I got th' gubmint figured", he said, and then went on.  "Here ya got this great big gubmint with all this power and money and all these, supposed to be, smart folks.  They got all of this and they can't even run a darn place, that furnishes beautiful women to men and sells whiskey on top of it.  All through history folks been makin' money on these two things, but for some reason th' gubmint couldn't!  Even with all them resources it couldn't find away to turn a profit with women and whiskey.  And now, these same folks wants to try to run somethin' as complicated as our health care?  Are you kiddin' me?  They can't even sell whiskey and a pretty blonde to a drunk, that has plenty of money!  Wheeeeew weeee!  If that don't beat all." he said with that big ol' whiskery grin and then he asked, "What you folks think?"

 

Well, my wife and I laughed and laughed, then told him, that he probably summed up the government better than any political expert ever even thought about doing.  I told him, "Partner, you got a pretty good handle on things.  You ought to run for a local political office."  He chuckled and said, "Aw shucks, I'd never do that.  No sir.  That would just be 'bout th' wrongest thing I ever could do."  I said,  "Why?"  He slowly pulled his big ol' frame off that stool and stuck out both hands, palm up, and as he lifted them up and down in front of him, he said, "Y'all ain't been listennin', at all.  I mean, I'm not the sharpest knife in th' drawer, but I consider myself a lot smarter than them politicians.  My story ought to prove that politics makes ya dumb!  Real dumb!  Dumber than flies!  You see, the longer that you are a politician, well, th' stupider you get."  No sir, politickin' ain't for this ol' boy.  Not one bit."  He grinned again, just to let us know that he was havin' fun with us.  We then shook hands, he hugged my wife, maybe one or two seconds too long, and we said good bye.

 

A road side park was just a few miles down th' road and we stopped and had our summer sausage, cheese, crackers, and a Dr. Pepper, as we thought about that ol' boy in th' store and how truly smart he was.  It all made some sort of strange sense to us.  Just an ol' Tennessee boy in th' middle of no where, left quite an impression. We then went on our way and I even ate one can of the Vienna sausages before we left.  We still get a chuckle outta that fella today.      

.........and that is an ol' story with a few opinions from TH' DUMB OL' EAST TEXAS BOY.  Find ya an old mountain store and fill your lungs.  You won't forget it.