Day 15: From Sevierville to Johnson City

Day 15 brought with it the realization that the annual road trip was swiftly coming to a conclusion. However, there were still two games left, so all was not yet lost.

We left the cabin in the direction of town and the Applewood Farmhouse Restaurant. The hosts (there were two) were not the most welcoming of folks, but I’ve come to the conclusion that decent customer service is really no longer the norm nor can it be expected. Those same people could quite possibly be the friendliest individuals outside of their work environs, but as long as they are on the clock, they mutate into zombie form and seem to eye each new being simply as a brain sandwich as they cross the threshold. You must now consider yourself fortunate to even be greeted with a grunt and a stink eye as you enter as they scan your nervous system to determine the size and tastiness of its primary organ. How many of us will that one feed? I might be reading too deeply into this, but with the zombie craze currently taking hold of our nation, nay the world, who could argue? I triple dog dare you. Yeah, I skipped a few levels on the dog dare scale. Now Christmas Story your arse up, Ralphie, and offer a better hypothesis.

Once seated, mind you, all the way in the back away from 95% of the other patrons, a server took our drink order, but then ditched our table in favor of another party that arrived after. Another server brought the drinks and remained with us as for the duration of the morning meal. The food was tasty – they served beignet-type items as though they were bread, so we gorged on those for a bit until the bounty arrived. We filled ourselves with scrumptious yumminess and then moved onward.

The Pope is still Catholic, right? Well that means that we hit several antique stores on the way north on the Winfield Dunn Parkway from Sevierville en route to Johnson City. Last year, the pickin’ places had MUCH better offerings than this time around. Not sure if I’m just pickier (Get it? Pickier…pickin’? I’m so amusing.) or if the quality of items has actually plummeted that much in 365 Gregorian calendar earth rotations. Same thing with the two large flea markets we patronized and a third piss-poor one we hit off of I-40 a few miles east. I spent all of $1 between those stops on a 2007 Detroit Tigers magazine that I may present to my long lost brother, Larry, in Florida - that along with a 1984 Purple Rain Tour program I picked up for $1 in Southport, NC. That Larry is one lucky long lost brother, I tell you.

Speaking of brothers, Brother Peter’s hummingbird bladder necessitated many more potty breaks along the Parkway, I-40, I-81, I-26 and all, and I mean ALL, roads in between. If only there was a way to collect, purify, and transport his liquid waste matter to convert it into some form of irrigation fluid– perhaps delivered similarly to the Log Flume system used at the Mingus Mill – droughts would cease to exist, deserts would transform into vast farmable lands, and hunger would vanish from our planet.

In a mere five years, the very word “hunger” would become a forgotten utterance, not unlike Ye Olde English, Aramaic and Latin. Hey, Monsanto…why don’t you and Six Flags team up on that one and save the world and maybe the cheerleader? Then get to work on that polar melting issue. I kinda like polar bears and they seem to sell quite a few Coca Colas at Christmas time. And you really don’t want to see Kevin Costner’s gem of a motion picture, Waterworld, become actuality, do you? Then drop the bon bons and have at it.

We reached our hotel in JC, once again dropped off the baggage (all of it) and headed to see the Cardinals’ Rookie affiliate/Appalachian League team, the Johnson City Cardinals, have a catch with the Pulaski Mariners. What we didn’t know when we arrived to a game already in progress, was that a game two nights prior had been rained out and our game was now a double header! The baseball gods had blessed us with an extra game of joy and our six-pack of road trip games evolved into a baker's half dozen. PTL!

We reached our seats and immediately recognized Julia’s boyfriends (Yes…boyFRIENDS – plural) from last year – two 80-something menfolk each toting a mouthful of tobacco and a receptacle for chew-spitting. Also interesting to note was the temperature difference between the 2012 stop at Cardinal Park and this 2013 visit – 30 degrees – 105 versus 75 one year later – at least according to the WeatherBug app. Last year, it was so hot that my hair and fingernails were sweating. And this year, by the end of Game 2, I had to venture out to the Rav to retrieve a jacket and blanket for Julia as her limbs and digits tend to freeze once the temperature drops below 75 degrees. A strange phenomenon indeed.

At some point, I headed down to the front row for some close-up photo ops with the Canon Power Shot SX50 HS. On my way, a man on a return trip from an apparent restroom break asked, “Did they just hit into a double play?” “Yes,” I replied. “Well, it wasn’t my kid who hit it, but he was the runner on first.” How cool – I had just chanced upon a parent of a current minor leaguer. The Cardinals catcher was Rowan Wick and his father, Clayton, was in the house all the way from Vancouver, BC to watch his son play. Clayton and I shot the breeze for a good 20 minutes while Julia was making friends with her new BFF, J.T. I eventually made my way back up to the hemorrhoid-inducing metal slab and parked it as the Cardinals continued to fall further behind en route to an 8-2 Game 1 loss. For the record, Rowan went 1 for 3 with a walk.

Between games, I strolled around the stadium in search of prime photo ops and freaks and wound up on the third base side where I, once again, came across Clayton. This time, his wife (Elaine) was with him and he introduced me. Again, we chatted for quite a while, perhaps half the game. At one point, the Cardinals trainer tossed a ball up to Clayton and he handed it to Elaine to secure it in her purse. The ball presentation caused my brain to relay the story of an usher in Memphis one year, who upon hearing of our road trip saga, pulled me aside as though I had violated some rule, only to present me with a game-used baseball. How cool was that? Upon completion of the story, Clayton disappeared for several minutes. When he came back he said, “Rowan said he can get us another ball, so give that ball to Dave for his collection.” I was stunned, yet quite appreciative. It just goes to show that it’s not just North Carolinians who are so friendly and generous. Who knew that our neighbors to the north had similar folks? And from the land of the hated Vancouver Canucks, the team who bounced our beloved St. Louis Blues from the playoffs in 1995, no less.

Shortly thereafter, Julia located me and I introduced her to my new Canadian friends. Apparently, J.T. had been pawing on her a bit during my absence. Julia somehow spurned his advances and, as she often does, extracted a bit of information from the octogenarian.

• He had been married four times.
• His current wife, #4, and he do not live together.
• She fixes him dinner on Monday and he takes her out to dinner on Friday, unless there’s a game. In that case, she has to fend for herself. He survives on chew and hot dogs at the game.
• J.T.’s wife #3 and wife #4’s husband were having an affair, as were J.T. and wife #4 at the time. A bit hard to follow, but read it again – you’ll get it.
• So both sets of affair participants are now married to each other’s ex-spouses. Make sense? J.T. is now married to the woman with whom he was having an affair (wife #4) and J.T.’s wife #3 and wife #4’s husband, who were having an affair of their own, are now married. Consider it a more permanent game of Spouse Swap.

What a nice second visit to Johnson City – rekindling old relationships and forging new ones. I highly recommend a trip of your own. By the way, the Cardinals took Game 2 by a score of 7-6 and Rowan went 0 for 1 as a pinch hitter. Hope to see you in The Show someday, Rowan!

Now, go see the photos HERE.