November 29, 2009 – Georgia – A Police State

Britain’s Sir James Oglethorpe – founder of the City of Savannah and the man responsible for its modern grid-like plan, with tree-shaded open squares – was granted authority over the Colony of Georgia in 1732. He agreed to this pre-State commission on three conditions: no Papists, no lawyers and no alcohol. The Feehans would have had a tough go in this neighborhood.

Exiting Savannah our GPS informs us it is precisely 5000 kilometres to Dead Rear, Alberta.

We are now seventeen States into our Kerouac-like road trip. I have cast a fly-line, a spinning lure and aspersions at fish unlawfully in fourteen of those States. But you know what they say. Fishin’ ain’t cheatin’… if you don’t get caught. Or catch anything.

By my reckoning what I’ve paid out in speeding fines from over-zealous Georgia sheriffs (a place I’ve dubbed the police State) about equals what I’ve avoided in fishing licenses. We’ll call it square.

Our road-kill data needs revision. The swollen carcasses of opossums now outnumber raccoons in the roadside kill count. Our cumbersome van took out an unwary squirrel today. But I hear-tell squirrel makes awesome gravy. Better by far than ‘possum.

America is obsessed with being numero uno: Stone Mountain, Georgia – a pre-Rushmore mountain carving dedicated to the heroes of the Confederacy- is the world’s largest, exposed, contiguous granite outcropping. Gosh.

Tishomingo has more shoreline than any other county in Mississippi. Golly. Charleston, South Carolina was home to America’s longest continuously operating business, a brothel established in the 1700s, which finally closed with the advent of prohibition in 1928 after over 250 years of up-standing client satisfaction. Gee(string).

The list is long.

We Canadians are not wont to such feats of aggrandizement. Actually, Alberta has a few. St. Paul, AB, is of course home to the world’s first UFO landing pad. Vegreville’s giant Easter egg is a real prairie-buster.

Who can forget the famous gopher museum in Torrington? And what about Mundare, with its statue of the world’s largest sausage? Savannah could have used one of those outside the brothel.

While touring a pre-civil war cotton plantation in Madison, Georgia – an antebellum (pre-civil war) mansion replete with original cookhouse and separate slave quarters – a lady from Atlanta warned us that there were only four days remaining until Black Friday.

Black friday precedes Santa’s arrival in AlabamaTwo days later a clerk – originally from Cajun country in Louisiana – cautioned us at the Dollar General store in Gadsden, Alabama that there were only two sunsets left until “jour noir”. I reckoned we’d buy Florence a Jackie Onassis-like veil, have my shoes toned up with ebony polish and plan for a midnight ritual at a local graveyard to properly honor the occasion. Turns out Black Friday is the day after Thanksgiving and the biggest shopping day in the U.S. calendar. If I’d known I would have saved a bundle on the Goth-wear.

Americans are renowned for their open, honest hospitality. Nowhere is that warmth more justifiably famous than in the Deep South. Last week we renewed an acquaintance made this summer while hiking in the Canadian Rockies. Susan G. (name withheld unless you know how to use an internet search engine) a bright, beautiful, petite blond is the ebullient mayor of Moresville, Alabama.

She and her husband Eric walked us at sunset – wine glass in hand – around town, introducing us to the history of Moresville, a place fortunately spared by the torch of George Tecumseh Sherman’s advancing Union army in 1865. Two local physicians and their lovely wives joined us for dinner.

Paul is a gynecologist cum butternut squash grower. Lawrence is the knitting urologist. These folks live in the Huntsville, Alabama area, home to Werner Von Braun’s NASA space program, known for its high level of post-secondary education graduates and generally smart people. No shit.

The scenic white picket fences appear as soon as one drives north across the state line toward Nashville. These barriers are designed to keep the Alabamans out… or the Tennesseans in?

Oil and gas, plastics and industrials are passé. Invest in the “handicapped parking” industry. Americans are fattening up in droves for the cold winter ahead. We parked on campus for the University of North Alabama Lions NCAA Tier II quarterfinal game against archrivals Carson-Newman on Saturday in Florence, Alabama. We avoided the bus herding people aboard for the strenuous two-block journey to the football field. We walked.

I was told at the gate that it was a cash-only event. Short on greenbacks, I paid for our seats then walked back to the van and grabbed some extra donero for the local delicacy – a deep-fried donut plate topped with icing sugar – returned to the stadium, realized I had left the tickets in the van, re-ambled back to the Dodge and returned to the gate, all in time to see our jilted bus driver encourage the last, waddling passenger’s exit from our bus, rhetorically exhorting him to, “cheer hard for the Lions now, ya’ll hear”.

The lady in front of us in section C row 12, seats 7/8/9 (roughly) wore her purple UNA Lions sweatshirt with size description “XXXL” proudly displayed on her bulging exterior. She encouraged her three-year-old to double up on the icing sugar topping.

Can you spot the world’s largest hopper?After UNA’s devastating 24-21 loss I tuned in to local radio for some post-game consolation. We were “personally” invited to enjoy a fine Sunday Buffet: “All you can eat. And bring in your church bulletin for a 20% discount”.

Every now and then one encounters a moment of stark self-enlightenment. Serendipity confronts us with an inward truth of which we were previously, blissfully unaware. Such was the case when I road my bike down a lonely country road in Eagleville, Tennessee to Cathy’s Hair Salon only to learn while having my hair cut that I have a “low crown”. Perhaps we need to return home to Canada where people are not so brutally blunt.

Gerry and Florence