Driving, driving around the DOT

I got to drive all around West Central Georgia this morning. I am also waiting on an email package of documents from an attorney from somewhere to file in the Clerk's Office of the Northern District of Georgia. So I also get to drive to Atlanta and back. The cost of doing all this driving is slowly wearing down the fun I derive from driving my car. And what is the deal with all these road projects all over Middle Georgia? How many times do I have to wait for the pilot car and the DOT flagman/woman? Nothing like burning off gasoline, standing still in a line of cars waiting for the pilot car to come back from the other side. I swear I hit every DOT repaving job in Georgia today.

I drove to LaGrange today for a closing at someone's second home on West Point Lake. The closing was scheduled for 11:00. Which meant I could stop at Country's Barbecue (from Columbus) and eat an early lunch. The waitress suggested I get the chopped pork platter, which got me two vegetables, more barbecue, and cornbread. It also saved me some money. Great waitress. I left a 20% tip just because. She even asked me if I needed anything else while I was standing in line to pay. I asked for a sweet tea to go and she went and got it for me. Maybe I should have given her a 25% tip.

I got to eat pork barbecue, butter beans and cooked cabbage and have a cornbread muffin. Several mason jars full of sweet tea, and it was a complete meal. Who needs dessert with that?The butter beans were great, although I prefer butter peas. The cabbage was tender ( I am glad I acquired a taste for cabbage as I got older).

Country's has a hot mustard-based barbecue sauce which is pretty good. I can't wait to take Kate and see what she thinks. Their barbecue is closer to mine than any I've found in Georgia. Most barbecue in Georgia is finely chopped ham with no real smokey flavor and too much sweet sauce. I still don't understand why they all seem to make it the same way. They use hams because there is little fat and they don't lose a lot of volume with the meat. But the problem is that the ham is too dry and is not tender or distinctive a flavor.

Almost every part of a pig is different in texture and flavor. Its almost hard to believe that ham, bacon, Boston butt and jowls come from the same animal. The perfect cuts of pork for barbecue are the shoulder and the butt. Ham is a great cut of pork, but is made perfection by the curing process. And it takes time to make a great ham. To use a good ham for barbecue would be a waste of good ham. But they probably use a "city ham" which they can afford to smoke for barbecue. By using a "city ham", the pork loses its individuality and smokey goodness. It becomes so mushy and blase that I really think you could feed it to babies. I am also not convinced that they smoke the ham long enough to impart the appropriate smokey flavor.

But Country's is different. They actually smoke the right cut of pork over hickory. You can smell it when you enter the restaurant. Hell, you can smell it when you open your car door in the parking lot. The pork absorbs the smoky flavor and the fat tenderizes the pork as it dissolves over the low heat. I also like the fact that they serve country vegetables with it. It reminds me of the Pic-a-Rib Restaurant down across from the old train station in Clarksville, Tennessee.The Pic-a-Rib always served a full meal. Who says you have to have brunswick stew and cole slaw with barbecue?

And what is the deal with brunswick stew? These places are so caught up with the original derivation of stew that they forget what tastes good. If you want good brunswick stew, go to Harold's Barbecue down by the Federal Penetentiary in Atlanta. There is nothing quite like driving past that huge institution of punishment and pulling into the parking lot at Harold's. And then when you see half of the State Legislature and most of the state troopers from Confederate Avenue, you might be tempted to wonder why there is a firearm hanging from the wall at the cash register.

Harold's stew is really stew. It hasn't lost the integrity of the component parts. It hasn't been blended into oblivion. It isn't spiced for babies and little old ladies. And don't even mention the cracklin' cornbread. That maybe one of the last remaining remnants of Old South anywhere in Georgia. It tastes tremendous. A large bowl of stew from Harolds and the cracklin' cornbread is all you need.

If they only had corn cakes as a side bread it would be perfect. But nobody has corncakes outside of Nashville and the Clarksville area. I wonder if any of these places has ever considered something other than the typical.

Don't even talk to me about white bread. That's a tradition that could use an upgrade or a return to the old days before white bread. Cornbread is the quintessential American bread. It didn't originate in Europe or Africa. It was waiting on us, like good tomatoes, when we arrived in Jamestown. Now, of course, we have almost killed off good tomatoes, and nobody seems to care too much about cornbread. How many times has your wife made cornbread? Ever? I can't count on my fingers how many times my wife has made cornbread, because I have all my fingers. I would have to remove all of my fingers to exemplify how many times my wife has made cornbread in twenty four years.

And I don't bring that up as a reproach. Its just the way it is in the world we live in. I have to pass this piece of truth on to the next generation before we lose it forever and the only use for corn is in tortillas and ethanol.

Nevertheless, I did enjoy the trip, even though I spent a good bit of the trip on the cellphone. I feel a little more comfortable talking on the cellphone in the car when I am driving in the country and there are few cars or stops to make with the phone attached to my ear. I do know it is a dangerous proposition to drive and talk on a cellphone. I see it in front of me and around me all the time. You are driving down the road and someone is driving unnaturally slowly or weaving a bit. The first supposition is that they are driving while intoxicated. Then you pull up alongside them and the cellphone is in their ear. They usually cut their eyes toward you as you pass them. They cut their eyes the same way my dog cuts his eyes at me when he has done something wrong. Tex, what have you done now?

One of these days the State Legislature is going to have to pass a law making it illegal to drive and talk on the cell phone. People are not going to stop unless they are forced to.

And yes, Cindy, I do know how obnoxiously ironic this little diatribe appears to you.

Nevertheless, I did get to see a wild turkey in between Williamson and Griffin. I stared at it trying to figure out whether it was a male or female until I realized that I was tending into the oncoming lane. I also got to run over a suicidal squirrel. Killed him dead (I assume he was a he; are male squirrels more prone to suicide or do female squirrels have that predeliction? Is it the teenage squirrels or do middle aged squirrels have midlife meltdowns? It did look pretty young. I didn't check the sex of the squirrel. It didn't seem to be important at the time. Also, I'm not sure I could have sexed the damn thing, as flat as it was). Perhaps I should have picked up the carcass for stew. How would you like that Cindy? He'd be fresh.

The weather got a little better as the day went by. I am afraid we won't get any rain like they promised. I can't tell you how many times I have seen rainy fronts dissipate as soon as they cross the border into Georgia. It is terribly frustrating most of the time.

Well, tomorrow we pick up our Kate at the airport in the afternoon. We are all looking forward to it. I include Tex in that even though he is sleeping in his cage. He is very careful to hide his excitement. Cindy would like to take him to the airport, but I can't see it, particularly when we have to go to La Parilla's for lunch/supper at Kate's request. That's an awful long time to sit in a car.

Tomorrow is the first Saturday in May. Derby Day. I have promised that I will only drink bourbon (with the exception of sweet tea, of course). One of the horses is trained by a trainer who was born in Jenny Stuart Hospital in Hopkinsville, Kentucky about three months before yours truly. He grew up on a farm in Christian County,Kentucky, where they raised tobacco, corn and soybeans. Go Leroy Jones! So tomorrow is dedicated to the Commonwealth of Kentucky, even if I am dedicating it in a Mexican restaurant in Fayetteville, Georgia.

"United we stand, divided we fall."

Let's unite behind good barbecue, bourbon and the celebration of a pretty day in May in Northern Kentucky. Can I get an "amen?"