The Invasion of Tennessee
You may not realize it, but today is actually Friday. At least it is for me. I will be off tomorrow and will be traveling to Nashville with my family and my in-laws to attend a convention of sorts. I will be completely devoid of means of access to the old Possumblog or to e-mail the entire weekend, so if any of you have a life and death matter to discuss, you’ll have to wait until Monday.

The convention is going to be at the Opryland Hotel, where we will be ensconced with 8,100 of our closest friends. In our package of information we got at church, the coordinator guy gave us a copy of the food court menu—a barbecue sandwich costs 7 bucks. That better be some darned good barbecue, or it better be half a pig.

To combat such price gouging (and in keeping with our usual white-trash-vacation custom) we will be bringing along our own poke full of groceries. Of course, since we will be staying in such an uptown place, we will probably use the good paper bags with handles, and there will be name-brand commodities in there, too. And no potted meat or Vienna sausages. We will have real Cheez-Its (not the Crackin’ Good Winn-Dixie store-brand variety) and real Ruffles, and probably will have real Cokes. I believe we are lined up to have sandwiches, so my mother-in-law may bring along some of the ham and turkey she fixed the other night.

The trip up might be nice—back at Christmas, Santa Claus got us one of those tiny TVs with a VCR built in and a DC power jack. We intend to anesthetize the children with Videothorazine, hopefully to combat the well-known effects of traveling with tiny terrorists. “She’s staring at me!” “She touched my finger!” “He’s tooting and it STINKS!” They know not to press too much—I may be the only person in the world to actually make good on the “turn this thing around and head home” threat. (Actually, I only had to pull off to the side of the road and pretend I was going to turn, but it was enough.) Each one got to pick out one movie to take along, although I set my foot firmly down and forbad any Mary Kate and Ashley Olson movies. Maybe it would work better if I was the one tranquilized.

I always thought it was funny when my dad would pack to go on vacation. Everything he had would fit in a brown paper grocery bag. It took him about 15 minutes. We are only going to be gone for two days, yet it looks like we’re practicing to be the road company for Les Miserables. Two different rollie bags; one huge hanging bag; the striped tote for toiletries, makeup, and hair dryer; a giant duffel bag; three purses (yes, even little Miss Five Year Old simply MUST have one); the other striped tote bag for the 15 pounds of crayons and coloring books; the aforementioned TV with its little carrying case and four videos; then the larder. Of this bounty, my share will be a dress shirt and pair of pants, two pairs of underwear, two undershirts, two pairs of socks, a pair of dress shoes, a razor, a comb, and a can of Sure.

So, anyway, that’s it for now. I’ll see you all bright and early on April Fool’s Day.
posted by Terry at 4:45:00 PM