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Wednesday, May 23, 2007

Got R Dun

Greetings Lovers of Pork;

Or pork-related products;

Or pigs in general;

Or not.

We landed at SFO last Saturday and boy are my arms tired. I'm not joking: carrying luggage for what seemed like 5 miles through the mega-sprawl that is ATL can be exhausting, especially when you get stuck finding a gate that isn't accessible by people mover or by tram. In addition, the whole trip back I had a freakin' killer headache, my stomach felt like shit, and it felt like someone smacked my ears with the palm of their hands.

I was beat.

And going through pork withdrawal.

I'm better now and once I get into the hang of actually writing again, I'll be posting each and every glorious detail of Bacon Press's Southern-Fried Bar-B-Q Roadtrip 2007. Even though I'm a little out of practice with this writing thing and it feels like there's way too much information swimming around in my head, I feel inspired by my trip and hope to share some of the food and places I enjoyed while careening in an economy rental car through the South with Bruce, a plastic pig hanging from our rear-view mirror, and a Piggly Wiggly potholder beaming out our rear window to those people I cut off outside of the Asheville Mall parking lot.

Before I start with the food, some observations:

1. The flying experience:
Okay: I just hate flying. I also hate hospitals. Flying is like the equivalent to being stuck in a hospital where upon arrival some orderly sticks a finger up your butt and rushes you through the door before you've had a chance to regain your composure. As with hospitals, I'm eternally grateful that the people with whom you most often come in contact with also happen to be the most disgruntled, lowest paid, and with the biggest fucking chip on their shoulders both sides of the Mississippi. That said, at least we're "safe" – the elimination of the customary airplane meal alone has saved countless lives from food poisoning.

2. The Dirty South:
My KINGDOM for one simple, ordinary PAPER towel in the men's bathroom in South Carolina and Georgia! Instead, I get these infernal electric blow dryers. Guess what? I frickin' hate those things! I know it seems more environmentally friendly to do away with paper towels, but those dryers drive me bat-shit crazy! It's not like I use a whole lot. Just one (1) to dry my hands – and with that one (1), I use to open the door with, promptly throwing in the closest trash receptacle as the door is closing behind me. I never get my hands dry using electric dryers, no matter how fast or how hard I rub them. I just end up wiping them on my clothes. And then I have to touch, with my freshly clean and bare hands, the same door handle someone who just left without washing his nasty-ass greasy grubby paws after God-knows-what business he's been up to, thereby contaminating MY hands with billions of virulent, microscopic germs...!!!

(Please Jesus make it stop.)

God help me, I will mow down a pristine old-growth wilderness corridor just to avoid having to touch that goddamn door handle after washing my hands!

3. Pawn Shops and Liquor Stores:
People of the South: What is your obsession with pawn shops? And really – how many do you actually need in one square mile? Is 5 enough? How about 10? Are your asses really that broke that you speak with more regularity to the pawn shop owner than to your own baby's mama? I have seen more pawn shops on one small stretch of highway to last me for the rest of my life. "Mega Pawn", "Patriot Pawn", "Beach Pawn", "Everyday Pawn", "Pawn Pawn": Please, give it a rest and just keep your stuff. What gets me is that you guys advertise your dirty laundry with all of the pawn shops…and then try to hide the words "liquor store" from public view. But every Bub from the lowcountry to the high knows what "ABC" stands for and if he can't read, South Carolina makes it easy with those big-ass red dots covering the building. Why, that aint nothing but a booze bulls-eye!

4. "Git R Dun"
Actually, I kinda like it – and my cousin Joey cracked me up saying it. But it doesn't look as cool on your truck's rearview window as you think it does.

Especially parked outside of a pawn shop.

5. Total miles driven:


6. Total number of Waffle Houses actually seen from the road (not counting how many off-ramp locations actually passed):


7. Rough number of pounds gained by Kevin, mostly from sweet tea and biscuits:

3 - 4



Anonymous Sean said...

I thought "sweettea" was one word ...

Welcome back. We embark on our annual Kentucky excursion next week. Waffle House, here we come ...

5:43 PM  
Blogger Chubbypanda said...

You toured the South and you're suffering from pork withdrawal? That's like going to Asia and not being able to find rice. I'm shocked.

Good to have you back.

12:08 PM  
Blogger Dr. Biggles said...

Dang, that sounded like fun. I think. I'd go.


1:47 PM  
Blogger Deborah Dowd said...

Great post and I am totally with you on the blow dryers for hands in bathrooms. You can't stand there long enough to get your hands dry (and you forgot that you have to touch the germ-infested button to even turn it on!)

3:54 AM  
Anonymous Scisco said...

I'm looking forward to hearing more about the BBQ. I'm still not clear on the competing "Sauce" or "No Sauce" schools. Also, what BBQ or Soul Food places in SF compare favorably with the food on your trip?

9:12 AM  

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