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Chris Johnson  

Posted on Sun, May. 04, 2008

Next trip is my pick


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We've been on two mini-vacations this year. In this economy, we're doing a lot of mini-stuff so we don't go further into mega-debt. But I still want max-enjoyment from our mini-trips.

The first was in January when we went to Gatlinburg so that my son, Saylor, could see some snow. What happened? We were bombarded at every turn by tacky tourist traps asking for -- and in too many cases getting -- our money. Meanwhile, it was snowing in Pine Mountain. Gatlinburg got a few flurries.

The next was during spring break when we went to hell on Earth -- yes, Orlando. Orlando is everything you hate about Atlanta (traffic jams and crime), everything you despise about Florida (more tourist traps) and none of what you love about Florida (beaches and bikinis).

If it weren't for Jimmy Buffett's Margaritaville at Universal Studios, I would have gone crazy. My wife kept steering me in there to shut me up from complaining about the dollars flying out of my wallet. But a frozen concoction can help you hang on for only so long, you know. And on the way home -- the looooong way home -- my wife blurted out somewhere around Micanopy: "You can pick the next vacation."

"THANK GOD!"

I should mention that it's never a good idea to yell like that when your wife's driving in heavy traffic on I-75. Fortunately, my black eye has nearly healed.

There will be a beach trip at some point, but that's just sort of a religious obligation as a Parrothedonist. I don't know for sure where our next official vacation will be, but I know it ain't gonna cost much and I know...

• It'll be where customer service at a restaurant means more than a waitress expecting a 15 percent tip for not spitting in your food. It means you get called "darlin' " and "sweetie" and you get a hug and perhaps even a down-home weather forecast: "They say it's gonna be a hot one."

• The only souvenirs aren't for sale. If you want a souvenir, it might mean coming home with a highway or street sign.

• Where public transportation means hopping in the bed of a pickup truck and asking a couple of hound dogs to scoot over.

• Where MapQuest's directions include directional terms like "yonder way" and measures distances in phrases such as "a little piece."

• Where you better pack a sleeping bag in case THE hotel is booked.

• And, most importantly, when folks wave they use their whole hand instead of just one finger.

Yep, time to contact the Possum Holler Tourism Bureau again:

"Is this the Possum Holler Tourism Bureau?"

"Naw, this here's Lester."

"Well, how're they bitin'?"

"Bitin' more than Erlene and Marlene when they got in a ruckus at the truck stop last week."

"All I need to know!"

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Redneck and single? There's hope for you at Blawg Wild. Go to http://blawgwild.blogspot.com

Contact Chris Johnson at 706-320-4403 or cjohnson@ledger-enquirer.com