So, this is the South? It's something else, I will tell you that. It's been a long day, so maybe my mind is a little messed up, but here is the first entry (of hopefully many).
I really had a difficult time trying to figure out what to title this entry. Let me briefly explain the candidates. First, I was thinking "5.....4....3...2..1.Blastoff!", which these two girls kept screaming on the plane from Burbank to Dallas. I thought it was really funny, but it didn't fully capture the moment. Then, there, "Did we lose Clyde", which was uttered by some woman at the Dallas airport. I just thought it was a funny phrase since only in Dallas are you going to find someone named Clyde. Then, I came up with the current title, but I will explain that a little later.
First of all, the southern accent is ridiculous. People complain about the Boston or New York one, but the southern is the worst. Waiting for the plane in Dallas, I was surrounded by southerns with the accent. I was a little excited at first since I thought, "Wow, how hot would it be to really bang a southern with a thick accent? I mean, it could be a mind blowing experience." Then, I thought about it a little more and honestly, I'm having mixed feelings about it. It's sexy and all, but it kind of gives me a headache. I have to really concentrate to even understand what the fuck anyone is saying, so it's lost its appeal.
I finally get to Mississippi and calling it a culture shock is an understatement. I mean, the movies might be overblown, but damn some of the people at the airport dead on. They're white trash and the African Americans are black trash. Hey, I'm an equal opportunity basher. At least, I'm honest.
Mark and I met up at the airport and we patiently waited for Lee, the driver. He's a really nice guy, but he is the ultimate southerner. Here's a guy who has been west of the Mississippi River once and it was to Texas. He's got a huge accent and to save myself time, he's a redneck through and through.
Anyway, we decide to stop for dinner at Cracker Barrel. I'm looking at the menu and let's when I see it, "Chicken Fried Chicken". What the fuck? Maybe Cracker Barrel has restaurants all over the country, but the simple fact that chicken fried chicken would be on a menu is the epitome of the south. I was so enthralled, I almost ordered it just to see how the fuck you can chicken a fried chicken?
I will say one positive thing in this entry and that's when I was playing around with a magic 8 ball at the Cracker Barrel store, I asked it one question, "Will I have a good time in Mississippi?" It told me this, "Yes, I really say it is." Not too sure what that means besides yes, but that was the only word I needed to see.
After leaving Cracker Barrel, it took us almost 100 miles to get to Philadelphia from the airport. And when you drive through towns in Mississippi, you literally drive by six buildings and that's a town. It's unbelievable. There is a ton of green land out here. People own thousand of acres. Hell, you can buy a mansion for 100 thousand dollars!
To end the night on a high note, we drove past a church tonight and had these words on the billboard, "Excercise daily, walk with Jesus." I was so blown away that I have renewed my faith and will become a born-again Christian. All the money I make during this gig will be donated in the name of the father, son, and holy spirit. Amen.