Well last night I joined a couple for dinner and was serenaded by their 18 year old son playing Johnny Cash so well, Johnny himself would have been proud. If that was not enough he picked up his banjo and picked some dueling banjos. He then added in some of his own repertoire and the evening was complete.
There was one down side. I woke at 10:00 am again. Must have been that chilled apple butter cider. Is nothing sacred in these here parts?
That tidbit leads up to today’s interesting look into small town politics.
Okay, so the county that I am staying in boasts among other things, the largest still ever confiscated within the state of Kentucky. So impressive, it was reassembled and sits today in a place of honor in the Kentucky State museum. With that said, this is a dry county. No booze allowed…at all. Hmmmm..
Recently the folks of the town decided they were tired of driving over the county line to pick up a beer or two and started a petition to revoke the ‘dry county’ standing. It was the first time in the history of this county that the bootleggers and the preachers united for a single cause. The preachers wanted no booze, the bootleggers wanted to keep their livelihood, albeit illegal, but still a livelihood. The petition failed, and the bootleggers found a new audience…women. What was once a concoction so foul a mere sniff of it would burn the sensitive hairs from inside your nose now comes in a variety of flavors; watermelon, strawberry, lemonade, and apple butter cider. I think I will stick to bottled water for the remainder of my trip.
I did always find it strange that the stores in this area carry a large stock of quart mason jars…year round.
Oh another addition to my ever growing Kentucky dictionary, just in case you haven’t heard this one..
Saying: Doesn’t that beat all the cats eatin’ the gravy?
P.S. Off to dirt track racing, the beginning of Nascar so I’m told…sacred around these parts, I cannot poke fun at that for fear of retaliation.