DATELINE: Wednesday, July 7, 2010 Nashville, TN

My original plan had been to post these pictures and declare that we had decided to move to Tennessee (did I spell that right, cause I'm not sure they let you live in a state you can't spell??) any state that has roadside rest areas this beautiful with amenities that please Barry so much (see following picture) just has to be a great place to live. 

Look at Barry's happy face!  Yes, Tennessee has air-conditioned housing for it's vending machines at roadside rest stops!  Look closely and you will see the sought after ice-cream sandwich clutched in his hopeful little hand.  This was, however, to be a momentary period of calm.  Little did we anticipate the horrors Nashville had to offer... Now make no mistake, this is a beautiful area and I was busy in my little mind planning what it would be like to live out here in these rolling, wooded hills...We even scored a pretty decent campground and tickets to see the Grand Ole Opry! 

Essentially the trouble began as we boarded the shuttle to take us to the Grand Ole Opry (can you tell I like saying "Grand Ole Opry?)  We were particularly excited (well, to be honest the country music fan among us -- hint, hint -- the one with the pretty blue eyes - was excited) that due to flooding in Nashville the Grand Ole Opry was moved back to its historic roots at the Ryman Auditorium for the show.  The Ryman (properly prounounced Raymun as near as we could tell) is nicknamed (I'm not kidding here) "The Mother Church of Country Music."  I'm telling you all this was threatening to make this old Beatles fans ear's bleed... The line up of entertainers was good and Barry was so pleased and I'm such a good sport that we boarded the shuttle as happy little campers....

Our bus driver was a gregarious little lady completely unselfconscious, perhaps, one might say, totally un-selfaware... She was enthused and chatty and happy to use the PA system on the bus as her personal entertainment device.  Everyone who boarded was "honey" or "sweetie" and she beamed out her 'wisdom' on each of us. Clearly, she was familiar with some of the passengers and almost immediately asked one couple how they had enjoyed their tour of the Jack Daniels distillery up in Bourbon County.  Before they could answer she had announced to all of us that it is a great tour although she is a teetoteler because she is a driver.  The couple in back then shouted that they didn't like the tour because it was 5 hours in the bus and only 1 hour in the distillery and then they didn't even get a sample.  Well, that just wasn't going to do and we found ourselves trapped between the unhappy distillery tour participants and the driver who was insistent that they had more than an hour and must have missed walking up to the "little ol' town" up the road - cause that's the real attraction."

Now all this PA'd conversation took place between her loudspeakered commentary on the drivers - our attention was drawn time and again to the various errant drivers and driving cell phone users she observed as we hurtled through rush hour traffic toward our destination at the Raymun venue. 

 Now it only took about 10 minutes aboard for me to recognize that had my mother discovered a career as a tour bus operator this is exactly what it would be like!  There was simply no filter to this woman's commentary - oh she was a good Christian lady - she wouldn't brook any cursing or off-color jokes - but there wasn't even one ounce of political correctness to her.  Mom with her cruise sugar-babies '07

Tourbus lady told us how 'them Moose people were in town' but got themselves bumped right out of the Grand Ole Opry on 'account of the flood an all...' She let us know that them Moose people were just having to go all over the durn place.  The next bone-chilling announcement took the color right from my rosy red cheeks:  "Now all ya'll ought to know we have a convention of little people in town this week..."

Oblivious to my sudden distress (and I swear every word that follows is total truth - you can't make this stuff up)  she proceeded to fill us in saying, "They are the cutest little things...Why, lookie rat there is one with a little, bitty baby, isn't that darling?! Our bus drivers have been having such a good time taking them around all week.  They are just more fun than a barrel of monkeys!"  (Not kidding here.)  Her last "warning" was that we should watch our step because they were just so little we could run right over the top of one. 

Okay, readers, I have to do a bit of an aside here for those who don't know my - uh -  history with little people.  I have no prejudice about little people but I do have a healthy respect (some might call it fear) based on an unfortunate experience with a midget in an elevator in Reno, NV about 30 years ago... Let's just say that after observing to the loaded elevator that it was very nice that the hotel was all set up for midgets with the low set of buttons and little low peepholes in the room doors God decided to teach me a lesson.  Just when I was completely hunkered over using my telescoped fingers to demonstrate the peephole for the crowd in the elevator...the doors opened...and in the field of vision of my manufactured hand peephole was...yep! A MIDGET!  (of course now we refer to them as Little People and I really didn't mean to offend but - c'mon - I'm an Elder and I had an audience..)  Well, the hysteria that erupted was utterly beyond my containment.  I lost it.  Barry, the decorum king lost it.  Wick lost it - couldn't even speak - wouldn't even claim me.  My sister-in-law dissolved to the floor.  It was awful.  Word got out.  People know the story and I have been haunted by Little People ever since but nothing, nothing I tell you, like last night at the Ryman!

I mean REALLY because the punishment just has to go on forever?  A little people convention? Thousands of little people (sorry, couldn't resist) in downtown Nashville.  I was horrified.  I mean it.  I've never been comfortable since that fateful evening on the elevator in Reno and now here I was in an auditorium surrounded by hundreds, in every size, variety, shape, age and mode of dress little people all ready to rock out to the best of country music.  I just don't think I've been that bad in my lifetime to endure both those things all in one evening! 

Most readers who know us at all well will be pleasantly surprised to learn that Barry was protective and sympathetic --- initially.  I think he might even have been a little concerned.  He said when the bus lady made the announcement about the Little People of America Convention that I went pale and stone silent...

At any rate we plopped ourselves down on the wooden benches that are the Ryman experience, surrounded by an announced crowed of "over 400 Little People in attendance tonight!" and Barry promptly leaned over and whispered that it only seemed like 200!  Honestly, like I need that?!  He opened the program for the evening, placed a comforting arm around my shoulders and said, "Now, don't get upset but you should know (pointing at the program announcing "Jimmy Dickens")  is that this is 'Little Jimmy Dickens'."  Well, you can only imagine how crazy that made everybody!  I'm telling you the whole thing was a spectacle!

We survived and really actually enjoyed the music (sorry John, Paul, George & Ringo) and made our way "carefully" through the departing crowd to the bus.  I thought we were safe until our driver lady fired up the engine and turned to the group and says, "Now all ya'all watch out for me.  I wouldn't want to run over one of them little folks.  They are just so cute..."

She continued her commentary on the little people visit to Nashville all the way to the freeway finally telling us that they were just the most independent people and that they could do any ol' thing the rest of us do.  Her final factoid was that the little people group had arrived on Thursday and would be here a whole week.  Barry's instant aside to me was, "That's a week and a half in little people days."

sheesh!

PLEASE ACCEPT MY HUMBLEST APOLOGIES FOR ANY OFFENSE TAKEN BY THOSE OF YOU WHO ARE BETTER PEOPLE THAN ME.  I ALSO WISH TO KNOW WHAT PENANCE IS GOING TO BE NECESSARY TO GET THIS PORTION OF THE POPULATION OFF MY BACK. I'M REALLY, REALLY SORRY.