It’s that time of year again. It’s this weekend every year when we make the annual trek to Lexington, Kentucky for the Rolex Kentucky Three-Day Event.
Anything that helps me get to writing is a good thing.
As is clearly obvious to any reader of this blog (and this assumes that there are any readers of this blog left), I am very, very, very, very poor at writing for this blog on any kind of a frequent nature.
It all started typically enough: a storm was coming. The forecasters saw it off in the distance. They prognosticated about it. They fretted about it. They warned us about it.
As I pointed out in my previous blathering, I’ve been living in the molehills for just over a year now and in that time I’ve discovered a few things that I really enjoy. But of course, it’s reasonable to presume I’ve also run into a few things that I just downright cannot stand.
In an effort to be fair-and-balanced, if I am going to tell you what I love, I must also tell you what I hate–otherwise, by definition, it wouldn’t be fair and balanced.
And so, at the risk of being tarred and feathered (do they still do that down here?), I present you my list of ten things–in no particular order–that I cannot stand about Tennessee.
I’ve been living down south for just over a year now, and in that time it stands to reason that I have identified a number of things that I just cannot stand about this place. But on the flip side of that coin, I’ve also found a few things that I actually like.
Imagine that. I’m being open-minded. Admirable growth on my part.
So, in classic David Letterman style, and without further ado, I present to you, my loyal–if somewhat flabbergasted–fans, my list of ten things that I love about Tennessee. Oh! And don’t worry, next time I’ll present my list of things that make my skin crawl.
(Please note that these are not presented in any particular order and no animals were injured, molested, or otherwise abused in the compiling of this list.)
I’ve been living in middle Tennessee for one year today. Yep. This is the one year anniversary of my move from Colorado (the mountains) to Tennessee (the molehills).
Now if you ask someone from Tennessee–particularly someone from east Tennessee and even more particularly, someone who has never lived or travelled out west–they will tell you that Tennessee has mountains. And I can see their argument from a southern point-of-view. But I am in fact not a southerner–I am a westerner, born and bred–and in my estimation, a state whose highest elevation is 6,643 feet does not qualify as possessing mountains. No, I’m sorry my southern friends, Clingmans Dome is a molehill. If you doubt the veracity of this claim, allow me to take you on a trip to the comparatively much higher 14,440-foot Mount Elbert in Colorado’s Sawatch Range. From this vantage point, your breath is–quite literally–taken away as you gaze out upon endless peak after endless peak.
Mind you, I am not insulting the great state of Tennessee. I am just correcting a few misnomers for the sake of accuracy.