Wednesday, July 9, 2008

SUNDAY, JULY 6th (Part V) - Jack Daniel's if you pleeeaaase ....



"Jack Daniel's if you please .... knock me to my knees ..."

-- DAVID ALLEN COE

I'm going to say up front, I am generally not a whiskey drinker. Or a liquor drinker at all. I'll rock the occasional gin and tonic, and if my boy Malik puts a bull blaster in front of me I won't say no, but for the most part I am straight beer drinker when it comes to my alcoholic preferences. So I was only mildly giddy to visit the Jack Daniel's distillery in Lynchburg, TN, as opposed to being overly giddy for the ribs at Dreamland BBQ and earth-shakingly giddy for the upcoming Primanti's sandwich in Pittsburgh. I have to say that I should have ratcheted up my giddiness for this stop on my journey because the Jack Daniel's distillery is a must see if you're ever in the Lynchburg area. And we all know what a high traffic area the southern part of Tennessee is for vacation goers. "DAD, that summer we went to Chattanooga was the BEST! Can we go again? PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE???!?!?!"

The tour itself was perfect -- informative, quick and not too much walking. We had a tour guide named William who I believe has been working at the distillery since his honorable discharge from the Confederate Army in 1862. William had one of those Tennessee accents where he could go on tour just saying the word "whiskey" over and over again for two hours and he would sell out arenas all over the world.

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT -- If you are planning on going on the Jack distillery tour, this is the NUMBER ONE THING you need to know ... Lynchburg is in a dry county!! So if you have designs on getting wasted during the tour or after the tour at the visitor center, you can table those plans. They're allowed to sell you ONE commemorative item with Jack Daniel's whiskey in it at the gift store, that's it ... except on Sundays when they can't sell you anything with alcohol in it anywhere in the state. So naturally I was there on Sunday ... getting a tour of a distillery full of whiskey ... the best whiskey in the world ... and I couldn't have a sip. I would imagine this is what it would feel like to show up at one of those all-nude, hedonism cruises and find out that it's all dudes on the ship. Absolutely, positively shameful.

While the process is fascinating, I won't crush all of you with the whole "how they make Jack Daniel's whiskey" details. I don't think that's why you're reading this blog, and to be honest I'd butcher it somewhere along the way. Besides that's what Wikipedia is for. I thought instead I'd just dazzle you with a few little Jack factoids that I committed to memory. In fact, I am going to coin them as Jacktoids because that is something that a zany radio host would do (cue some Mr. Zonko whacky sounds like a spring coiling and a bike horn honking):

SEAN'S JACKTOIDS

A little background on the man that was Jack Daniel. First off, he was only like 5' 2" and considered to be somewhat of a prodigy business-wise, as he rose to prominence in his teenage years. He rapidly became a savior for the entire Lynchburg area as the distillery pretty much employs everyone who lives in that sleepy little town. He liked to wear big hats and coats with tails ... and the more I type this the more I think that Jack Daniel was basically whiskey's answer to Willy Wonka ... which I guess would make all of the inhabitants of Lynchburg the Oompa Loompas. A bunch of redneck, Tennessee, non-midget Oompa Loompas ....

"Oompa Loompa, doompity doo
I've got another bottle for you
Oompa loompa doo
mpita dee
If you are wise, you'll drink a fifth of J.D."

Like Wonka, Jack never took a bride or had any offspring. Unlike Wonka, it does not appear that Jack had an affinity for luring nine year old boys to the distillery with golden tickets. I am going to assume that Jack got a lot of quality late 1800's ass. I am assuming this, because frankly I don't want to think that the inventor of one of the most manly drinks in the world was home at night doing the 1860's equivalent of watching "Sex and the City" and drinking appletini's. Let's not even go there! Jack Daniel's banged who he wanted, when he wanted, and that's that! You understand me?!? I don't wanna hear nuthin' else!

As for the whiskey itself, what makes Jack Daniel's so special even to this day is the fact that they drain the whiskey one drop at a time into a big barrel of charcoal before barreling it. Tourmaster William said that this is "what makes Jack Daniel's whiskey the only true Tennessee whiskey". And yes, my nether regions tingled when he said "whiskey" twice in four seconds. The charcoal thing seems strange, but we all know that creative geniuses have their own methods for creating their masterpieces. I suppose Jack's charcoal thing is like Wonka deciding that it's a good idea to throw sweatpants and soccer cleats into a vat of some liquid candy concoction.

You know what? Screw it ... all of these Jack-Wonka comparisons. We need to just TALE OF THE TAPE this thing. So here goes:

JACK DANIEL vs WILLY WONKA - TALE OF THE TAPE

Jack Daniel
Hometown: Lynchburg, TN
Ht: 5'2", Wt: 135 Lbs
vs
Willy Wonka
Hometown: Somewhere with British
accents, possibly Great Britain
Ht: 5'8", Wt: 155 Lbs


BUSINESS INTERESTS

JD: Owned the distillery of one of the finest alcoholic beverages in the world, Jack Daniel's Tennessee Whiskey, during the late 1800's and early 1900's. He was a pioneer in the distilling and alcohol distribution business.

WW: Owned a candy factory that doubled as a torture chamber for insolent little kids. We assume he was a pioneer in the candy industry because Grandpa Joe said he was and we respect the opinion of old people, especially those old people who go by the first name "Grandpa".

ADVANTAGE: Jack Daniel

LOVE LIFE

JD: Jack Daniel never married or produced offspring. Because he manufactured whiskey, I'm going to assume that he was single because he enjoyed threesomes with hot models, staying out until all hours of the night, and he didn't want to split up his fortune with some bee-yatch.

WW: Willy Wonka never married or produced offspring. Because he lured little kids to his factory with golden tickets offering them a lifetime supply of candy, I'm assuming that he was single because he enjoyed molesting young children.

ADVANTAGE: Jack Daniel

PHILANTHROPIC TENDENCIES


JD: Jack Daniel basically ensured that an entire town would have a stable economy centered around local employment and manufacturing a tangible product. Without the Jack Daniel's distillery, Lynchburg would basically be Appalachia West.

WW: Willy Wonka emancipated an entire country of Oompa Loompas from the oppressive government (and "vermicious knids") in their native Loompaland. Upon bringing them stateside, he dressed them up like two year olds, and gave them jobs doing things like cleaning up geese shit and free style rhyming about spoiled little kids who visited the factory and broke the rules.

ADVANTAGE: Willy Wonka, but only because midgets are involved

GREATEST CONTRIBUTION TO SOCIETY

JD: The invention of the job "whiskey taster". There are actually 90 people employed by Jack Daniel's whose sole job is to taste the barrel-stored whiskey to ensure that it's time to bottle it up and ship it. I would imagine applying for this job in Lynchburg is the equivalent of applying to Harvard in New England. Not only is it a nearly impossible spot to get, but if you are fortunate enough to get accepted, your family brags about you like you just cured cancer.

WW: The Everlasting Gobstopper. While as consumers we appreciate the idea of Wonka giving poor kids a piece of candy that lasts forever, I can't imagine that Wonka's shareholders are all that happy that dude is spending resources creating a product that essentially ensures your target audience no longer has to spend money with you. Not a real good way to grow your revenue numbers. If Wonka were on "The Apprentice", he'd have been fired before the end of the first episode.

ADVANTAGE: Jack Daniel

DEATH

JD: Jack Daniel died from a blood poisoning infection in his toe that spread throughout his body. True story, he hurt the toe by kicking a safe when he got pissed off that it wouldn't open. I have no idea if there's any truth to the rumor that he asked the safe "Do you know who the hell I am?!?"

WW: We actually don't know for sure how Wonka died, but we'll assume vermicious knids were involved in some way. Payback for freeing the Oompa Loompas.

ADVANTAGE: Even

SUCCESSION PLAN

JD: Since he didn't have any offspring, Jack Daniel took his favorite nephew, Lem Motlow, under his wing. Motlow was an accounting whiz with a keen business sense and in 1907, Jack gave him the distillery as a gift. The Jack Daniel's product continued to thrive under Motlow and to this day is one of the premier brand names in the world.

WW: Since he didn't have any offspring, Wonka invited five random children to his factory using golden tickets hidden in his chocolate bars. In an emotional exchange aboard an elevator levitating high above the city, Wonka decided to give the factory to 10 year old Charlie Bucket, whose entire business resume to that point consisted of a paper route. Perhaps being overly generous, Wonka invited Charlie's entire family to join him, including his invalid grandparents who all slept in the same bed and hadn't left the house since the Coolidge Administration.

ADVANTAGE: Jack Daniel

VERDICT: Whiskey is better than candy, rednecks are better than Brits, and Wonka is Jack's bitch. TAKE 'AT, WONKA!!!

SUNDAY, JULY 6th (Part IV) - Tennessee POWER BALL!

I've crossed over state borders all over the country no fewer than probably 10,000 times. Admittedly, most of the time it was because the alcohol purchasing laws in the state I resided in were considerably more restrictive than the neighboring state. (Thanks for that 8:00 PM closing time on liquor stores, Connecticut. Could you be any lamer?) Anyway, most of the time you'd never know that you just entered another state if there weren't a sign there welcoming you to your new temporary home away from home. (You know like "Welcome to Wisconsin - Birthplace of Jeffrey Dahmer".) I say most of the time you'd never know when you cross state lines because the fact is when you cross the border from Alabama into Tennessee, you know immediately. How do you know? Well, apparently the lottery is like a really big deal in Tennessee because as soon as you cross over into Tennessee there are facilities about ten feet past the state line whose sole purpose is to sell lottery tickets. LOTS of them. Not gas stations that happen to sell lottery tickets (oh sure, there are some of those in Tennessee as well), but buildings where all you do is buy lottery tickets. Who'd have thunk it?

And not just lottery tickets, but pretty much any game of chance involving numbers on paper. Power Ball, Pick 4, every scratch off imaginable in those dispensers where you can roll them out like toiletpaper and the cashier can pull off like 50 off them. I'm pretty sure there may have been guys in the corner rolling dice, and three overweight ladies betting on ants crawling toward the wall. Either that or they were just hungover.

Sidebar - I love the marketing geniuses behind the scratch offs. Ultimately, those games are all the same. You're using the side of a coin to scratch silver paint off of a piece of paper to see if you happen to score a victory in a game where the odds of winning five bucks on a one dollar card is about 1 in 100. But for some reason, when those silver spots are carrots next to a cartoon of a rabbit, it becomes "fun" to play. It's pure genius. I honestly think that if people served their spouse divorce papers with silver scratch offs on it, it would "fun" up the divorce process and make the two soon to be ex spouses much more cordial to each other. "Let's see what is under this silver spot ... scratch, scratch, scratch ... WHOA! SOLE CUSTODY!!! YYYYEESSS!!!!" (Cue "Price is Right" showcase winner music!)

Anyway, back to the LottoDome. Check out this room. It's a bunch of tables where people sit down and map out their lottery strategy, like Belichik preparing for the Super Bowl, as if somehow they can gameplan and control the way the ping pong balls will come out of those little tubes. I looked on the back of one of the entry tickets for Power Ball and the odds of winning it are roughly 1 in 146,000,000. (So naturally the estimated jackpot is $20,000,000, or about 1/7th of 146 million.) I thought those odds seemed pretty steep, but then I considered that half of the homes I'd seen within 15 miles of the Lottery Oasis had more cars on blocks in the front yard than they had in the driveway. I mean, unless the demand for rusted out cars with no wheels skyrockets in the next few months, the odds of these folks making more than 20 THOUSAND dollars next year are far greater than 1 in 146,000,000 so I can see why they'd scrape together all of their nickels and dimes and take a crack at the Power Ball for 1,000 times the payout. It's solid business sense really.

So you have a room full of people cashing in their welfare checks to play lottery games that are decidedly skewed toward the state .... naturally, I had to particpate. You know what they say ... when in Tennessee, do as those below the poverty line do! So I went ahead and bought two Power Ball tickets (drawing on Wednesday night, July 9th!!) Here's what I went with.

TICKET 1:
5 - daughter's soccer jersey number
12 - brother's football number at Notre Dame
20 - 1560 birth date is Aug 20th
22 - my birthday and my twins' birthday is Jan 22nd
34 - number of Charles Barkley, my favorite athlete
POWER BALL - 29 - mom's birthday was Dec 29th

TICKET 2 (I call this one the Houston special):
5 - Bagwell
7 - Biggio
17 - Puma
22 - Clyde
45 - Rudy T
POWER BALL - 34 - can you really go with any other number for the Power Ball on a Houston Special??

If I win, I promise to rent out the Toyota Center and pay Rich Lord whatever it takes to have him agree to sing Barbara Streisand's greatest hits in the round while we all throw urine balloons at him. I mean that. Wish me luck!

SUNDAY, JULY 6th (Part III) - My favorite exit in Alabama

After picking up two t-shirts (including a nice redneck sleeveless joint for $4.99) and a bathing suit for a grand total of $42 at Academy (the right stuff...the low price...INDEED!), I began the trek north to the great state of Tennessee. Heading north on I-65 toward Huntsville, I passed the exit pictured below:



















Naturally curious, I took the exit and found this fellow standing at the stop light at the bottom the ramp rambling to himself. The Warrior lives....in Alabama of all places!

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

SUNDAY, JULY 6th (Part II) - An Alabama Staple ... THE WIGGLY!

If you've never lived in or been through the South, you just can't understand the magnitude of the Piggly Wiggly. It's a Southern Institution. So when I rolled up behind a Wiggly truck, naturally I had to take a picture.



















I think SEC Guy can do a much better job of capturing the essence of the Wiggly. Here you go ....


SUNDAY, JULY 6th (Part I) - Porn for the SEC GUY

If you listen to 1560 The Game, you know about SEC Guy. His name is Karol Kenton Kogslotter, and he frequently contributes to our programming on 1560. He is a 60-something family practitioner who lives in Alabama and eats, breathes, sweats and lives all things SEC football, particularly the Alabama Crimson Tide. In SEC Guy's eyes, the sun rises and sets at John Parker Wilson's locker, the WAC and Mountain West don't exist, and Kenny Stabler has been framed by an Auburn police officer on all twelve of his DUI's. So it's only natural that as I drove around the Alabama campus that I would think about SEC Guy and how enthralled he would be by my surroundings. And it's why I entitled this post "Porn for the SEC GUY". I have to believe that he pops in VHS tapes (maybe beta tapes... ok, maybe reel to reel films) of old Joe Willie Namath highlights and gets that "special feeling", kind of like those skeevy pervs when they pull into the parking lot at those 24 hour adult bookstores.

Ironically, one of the first places I passed as I made my way onto campus was a Jimmy John's sandwich shop. Why is this ironic? Well, if you've been following the news out of Tuscaloosa, you know that Jimmy Johns is also the name of an Alabama linebacker who was recently arrested on charges that he was selling cocaine to undercover police officers. To see the actual sandwich shop about a block from the stadium, with an Alabama banner in front of it to boot, was just too perfect. So I had to capture the moment for posterity's sake.

In fact, SEC Guy's most recent effort on the "Sean and John Show" (or as SEC Guy calls it, the Shane and Jacob Show) was his plea for an investigation into the possible framing of Jimmy Johns the linebacker. You can catch this piece of radio brilliance by clicking on the icon below. Trust me, it's worth it.



With the disrespectful-to-the-legacy-of-The-Bear chicanery out of the way, I made my way over to Bryant-Denny Stadium. Now, Lord knows that the gods of college football have given us enough reasons to be the scandals, and the patronizing references to a barely existent "student-athlete" (well, barely existent in many places at least),cynical about the game what with the BCS, but I have to admit it still gives me a tingly sensation in my nether regions when I walk up on a hallowed college football cathedral like Bryant-Denny Stadium. To know that the greats like Jay Barker and Brodie Croyle have slung the rock around that yard, I mean you can almost smell the greatness ... oh wait, that's the bread at Jimmy Johns (mmmm....freeeee smeeelllls .... AGGGGHHHHH ....channeling my inner Homer Simpson). Anyway, it was very cool seeing the stadium, even if it was just the outside.

My next stop was to head to the bookstore and add the University of Alabama to my cadre of tee shirts on this trip. There was only one problem, and it was the same issue that I encountered in Hattiesburg -- apparently, the south has a ban on opening stores with books during the month of July. WTF?!? Did someone pass a law making July Illiteracy Month in the Deep South? C'mon Alabama! I mean, I expect that kind of behavior from Mississippi, but you guys are at least ranked in like the mid-40's in public education (as opposed to, well, 50th like Mississippi). You're better than that. Open a freaking bookstore. Hell, it wasn't just the bookstore. ALL of the Bama gear shops were closed! I'll chalk it up to being a Sunday and assume that there are blue laws in Alabama that I'm not aware of.

So desparately needing a tee shirt, I went to the one place that I knew I could count on ... the one place that has all of your tee shirt needs covered .... 6,000 1560 tee shirts sold .... for all of your sporting goods and outdoor needs ... the right stuff, the low price .... ACADEMY!!! I knew I could count on them!!

On a whim, thinking that perhaps the station is blowing up in Alabama, I asked the lady behind the counter if they had any 1560 tee shirts. When she responded with "1560? Them shirts over there are only 8 bucks! Just grab one of them, save yourself like 10 bucks!!" then I knew that we still had more work to do back in Houston.

We're not quite blowing up in Alabama ... not yet. It's coming though.

So with the Dreamland BBQ ribs still nestled snugly in my digestive tract and rocking my new Alabama tee shirt, I hit the road to head to Music City.

SATURDAY, JULY 5th (Part VI) - Tuscaloosa, AL

I crossed over the Alabama border, and I was understandably proud. Proud that I was able to cobble Brett Favre's illiterate hometown, a stop in Hattiesburg, and a few billboards into enough material for four blogposts. I mean, if they made blogging an Olympic sport, what would the degree of difficulty be on that? Wouldn't that be like the Triple Lindy of blogging? I'll let you judge for yourself ... what is more difficult? Putting together my recent slew of blog posts on a nothin' happenin' backwater like Mississippi, or this ...




Yeah, I thought so. Screw you, MELLON!!

So when I put my trip out there publicly for our listener base to comment on/contribute to/ridicule, the one eatery that was designated as "can't miss" more than any other was the Dreamland BBQ in Tuscaloosa. So I pulled into Tuscaloosa late afternoon on Saturday, and knowing that I would be hitting the 'Bama campus on Sunday, and also starving from having not eaten in nearly three hours (gasp!), I made consuming those delectable ribs my priority. (That is after checking into the luxurious Fairfield Inn off of Skyland Avenue, complete with continental breakfast!)

I followed Mapquest's directions to the Dreamland, and as I was weaving up hills and along curvy rural backroads I started questioning why we trust any computers ever. (Yes, I'm looking right at you my sweet little laptop ... don't look at me like that ... ) As it turns out, my computer was being truthful; the Dreamland BBQ is off the beaten path, standing by its lonesome at the top of a hill in the middle of one of Tuscaloosa's, um, less affluent neighborhoods.

The first thing I noticed when you walk in is the "hole in the wall" feel to the place, and I don't mean that in a derogatory way. I mean it as the highest compliment. Old school booths, old school counter seats, and walls seemingly papered with autographed pictures of famous people who have consumed their ribs. And here is the best part ... I was the only person there! Total old school feel. I felt like Tony Soprano eating by himself in an empty Vesuvio's. Only replace "Tony" with a starving radio host, replace "mushroom tortellini" with slabs of ribs, and replace New Jersey with ... well, somewhere that most assuredly was not New Jersey.

The beauty in Dreamland was in its simplicity. I have said this many times about In N Out Burger -- there is a reason that they are so good. You go there, and they only do one thing. Hamburgers (well, and fries and shakes, but you get my drift). And they do it better than anyone. (Sorry, Whataburger loyalists.) Well, Dreamland BBQ is like the In N Out Burger of ribs. Their menu has ribs, a couple sides, and that's it. When I sat down and my waitress Faye came over to take my order, there was no indecisiveness on my part. There didn't need to be. All Faye had to say was "Wanna start off with half a slab?" and all I had to do was grunt, and it was on like Donkey Kong ... assuming Mario were a rib-devouring slob. Faye brought out a plate of white bread, a half slab of mouth watering ribs, and my large coke, and I went to work (Pendergast quirk you may not have been aware of -- when eating dinner, I'd much rather have a soda than a beer. Now when getting hammered, I'd much rather have beer, but for dinner, Coke is my drink of choice.). The sauce was the perfect combination of spicy, sweet and tangy. I think I mopped up every drop with the white bread sponges they gave me. Three plates of ribs later, they rolled me out of there like the Oompa Loompa's rolling out Violet Beauregard after she carelessly defied Wonka's orders to not eat the gum.

I mean look at these pics of the front of the building. When I pulled in, it was still light out. When I left, it was dark and they had to practically kick me out.



























Needless to say, everything from the atmosphere to the food to the service equated out to the highest grade on the trip yet. And for good measure, the staff at the Dreamland dropped the double rods. Say "Hello" to Raymond, Faye, Carmen, and Rhonda!



















DREAMLAND BBQ - TUSCALOOSA, AL
FOOD: SEVERAL SLABS OF RIBS AND LOAVES OF BREAD
GRADE: A+

SATURDAY, JULY 5th (Part V) - Final Add Mississippi

I know that when I'm planning a party, and I go through the final checklist, there is no sweeter sound than being able to say "Fireworks? Check. ..... Streakers? Check."

Somewhere at the end of this dirt road in Mississippi, someone is planning a kick ass party.



















Best part is, if you look real closely, you can see that this road also is the home of a Baptist Church. I believe it is the second book of Colossians that mentions streakers and fireworks.



















Frank the Tank would've loved Mississippi ...