Living within the moment and the laughter

Ten and a half hours and some fifteen hundred miles later, we are back in Gainesville. Great trip, one of the best. We left Lexington about 7 A.M. and right away the GPS decided to hiccup and take us on a five mile trip through the, ...uhh, how can I put this...hmm... let us say "less scenic neighborhoods" of the City. We knew the interstate to be about a half mile in the opposite direction but I said, "Hey, let's see if it (the GPS) knows a route that will pick up the road further South toward Atlanta, it'll be an early morning adventure." Wrong, the damned thing just ran us all over hell's half acre to bring us out further North than we had been.

The trip from Lexington to Knoxville is terraced country. Each mountain plateau and valley seems to be stacked a little higher than the ones below it. This particular Sunday morning the Blue Ridge Mountains lived up to their name. We encountered a lot of early morning clouds, fog and haze. Driving, we climbed through lower lying clouds, when we would temporarily get on top there was only blue sky above with solid layers below. Then we would descend back down through the overcast going through multi layers ranging from almost no visibility to unlimited. Clouds were hanging in the valleys and moving rapidly around and over the hills. Sometimes words fail to adequately describe beauty, this is one of those times. The mountains and waters of this part of our country are one of the last remaining unspoiled areas in the Southeastern United States. As a person who loves the South, it pains me to think of how much similarly beautiful country we have all lost. I hope at least this can be saved for our kids and grandchildren.

All around us the green of the hardwood trees were just beginning to show the color changes of early Autumn. I commented on how much prettier the mountains would be in a few weeks. Imagine, surrounded by all that scenic wonder and yet wishing the trip were three of four weeks later in the year. I hope God can forgive that type of ingratitude. For me, it is an all too often common mistake. In wishing for a different season, different weather, or different whatever, I fail to enjoy today. As I have grown older one of the more important lessons I have tried to learn is to live in the moment, unfortunately I often fail.

On a lighter note there is another side of driving through mountainous terrain. As a flat land living Gator, I am unaccustomed to twisting and turning mountain roads and their associated hazards. During this portion of our trip, "Larry, dammit pay attention" was a common refrain. Often I found myself pointing out such not to be missed attractions as a barn roof painted with a sign encouraging one and all to "See Rock City." Now and then I may have even drifted across the center line of the road toward a rock wall or sheer precipice. Ah yes, there is nothing like a woman screaming or the blast of an air horn from an approaching semi-tractor trailer to snap one back to reality.


The reason for our early departure was the diner we were going to in Atlanta closes at two PM. We came rolling in about one o'clock in the afternoon. The Silver Skillet Diner is about a block off I-75, it is near the world famous Varsity Drive-in and just across the street from the Georgia Tech campus. Walking into the place I knew we had made a good choice. There were a lot of local people. In Atlanta there are tons of choices of places to eat. Most of which are not frequented by native Georgians, particularly diners that primarily serve breakfast. If you grow up in the South, eating a biscuit baked by a Northerner is akin to being water boarded. Jeannie ordered country ham, fried eggs and red eye gravy. I had pork chops, biscuits, cheese grits biscuits and gravy. Damn, damn, damn, it was so good. The place was opened in 1956 by the current owner's Dad . The present owner is named "Teresa" and she was working the cash register. I told her the food was so good that if she would tell me where her father was buried I would drive by and put flowers on his grave. She replied, "just leave a tip son, a big tip." I did.

One other thing and this segment is officially over and done. After getting home I dropped by the local watering hole, Gator Tales. Corey Viley was sitting at the bar and we swapped stories about our respective weekends. Hands down, Corey won. It seems he had been fishing with the local bass club. They had all packed up and went to Astoria, Florida. After a good day on the lake, they retired to a local sports bar to watch the Gator football game. Corey said that all of the Bass Club members were sitting to his left and to his right were several local fellows who were not real football fans. After Florida scored the first time, Corey paid for drinks for everyone including the six or so locals who did not follow football. He said they all came over shook his hand and told him thank you. Corey said that he said "look guys, every time Florida scores I am buying you a round of drinks". They all cheered and thanked him. At the end of the first quarter the score was 34-0 Florida. Corey said after that many drinks, every single local was now an avid Gator convert and every time a Florida player carried the ball they were on their feet yelling "Run you sumbitch run!" Corey thought, Hell, thirty four points in the first quarter! maybe Florida will score a hundred and the locals were praying the Gators would. Some stories just can't be improved on. You just gotta love it.