Day 3: Nashville to Knoxville to Charlotte

Sunday led us from the home of Blake Shelton to the land of Cousin Cindi and NASCAR, both of which I am not fond.

Brother Peter “rested his eyes” at one point (make that many) the drive as evidenced by a photo his borderline evil sister took of him during a snooze.

And, yes, sleep snorts were reaching the cochlea. Fortunately, the Fun. tunes from the iPod were able to soothe my auditory devices.

We reached Charlotte, dropped off our belongings at the Courtyard and went our separate ways – Julia and Brother Peter to their Uncle Jim’s/Aunt Ellen’s and I to Cousin Cindi’s, where I learned that we would be enjoying the benefits of a rare Charlotte Knights victory – half off of Papa John’s pizza. It’s not Bommarito’s in Afton, the greatest pizza Saint Louis has to offer, but it provided some nourishment after a day of road tripping.

As you know, we have four feline animal beasts at home, aka The Dings. I’ll drop a quick shout out to all the folks who have had a hand in Ding care in our absence here: Little Bird, Suzanne, VandaWillyWonka and Jeepers. Thanks for feeding and spending time with those fat things. Okay, back to the point… So we’re away from our Dings, but Cousin Cindi has two new kittenesses – Roxy and Zoe – whom I was able to meet for a kitty fix. Upon meeting Roxy, it was hard to miss the fact that she was wearing the dreaded cone of shame. Apparently, the little one likes to consume ponytail holders and other elasticky objects, thus causing the need for emergency surgery on her stomach and intestines for eradication. Do something dumb, pay the price with the cone of shame. That’s my motto.

For some reason, I got blamed for "riling up" the kitties to the point that Cousin Cindi had to drug them after I left. Whatevs. Kitties love me. If they get riled up, it's because they don't like you as much as me and it's their form of an Amnesty International kitty protest. Your animals love me more than they love you. Just the facts. Live with it.

Special thanks to Cousin Cindi for the autographed Gaylord Perry photo, the tickets to the Knights game, the hideous purple and teal retro hat that I can’t believe they are considering bringing back, and, most of all, the awesome Homer the Dragon hat that I shall wear with exuberant pride everywhere I go. Fact: I don’t like Cousin Cindi and she doesn’t like me, so we’ll just agree to disagree.

Just a hint to those of you pondering homicide, yet wondering how to dispose of the body… The toilets at the Courtyard Ballantyne in Charlotte are a water vortex bordering on a black hole. I would not recommend wearing a necktie while cleaning this commode. Your neck will be snapped like a toothpick once that thing grabs hold. You could have the defensive line of the Packers try to pull you out only to also be lost in the attempt. Seriously, the force behind the power flush was unlike anything I’ve ever witnessed in all of my years. It would easily rival the G-forces experienced during Space Shuttle re-entry.

To see the photos from Day 3 (and maybe some from Day 4 - I don't remember anymore), click HERE.