Tri-Cities

Tri-Cities is the region of Northeast Tennessee and Southwestern Virginia. The “tri” includes Kingsport TN with Bristol TN or is it VA? Well, actually it's both. The state line is marked and runs straight down Main Street pictured above. “A good place to live.” Yes I am quite sure! In fact it is probably nicer to live than to visit. Twice a year this little piece of hometown America is overrun by upwards of 150,000 racing fans and I am happy to say I am one who unfortunately wreak havoc on the community and leave behind a wake of empty beer cans and spent charcoal. Are we welcomed? I hope so considering each of us who visit here drop no less than $500 per person. I have come here no less than ten times in the last eight years and in spite of very friendly people, blooming dogwoods, cattle grazing on their farmland and lovely little churches nestled upon the beautiful pimple hills of Eastern TN. On this particular visit I have experienced some culture shock. Lets start with the Smyth County local morning newspaper whose front page story was “Naked Man found in town says Liquor and Flu made him do it.” or the waitress at the Perkins when asked, “why do you call home fries breakfast potatoes?” and she retorted snidely “I don’t know Yankees own this place and that's what they call them.” I suppose she didn’t notice our Yankee dialect or thought we were among the rebel persuasion. Our dinner had it’s own special treat where you would usually see a sign stating “Please wait here to be seated” was replaced with this sign – “Absolutely no weapons of any kind allowed! Thank you the management.” I am not kidding see with your own eyes – Village Café Best Western Exit 47 Interstate 81 Marion VA. Racecars are well known for the colorful sponsorships and don't not miss the Butt Paste Car (yes it is Paste and it is for your Ass!) or perhaps the car painted in camouflage sporting its banner for Gunbroker.COM I suppose this race team wasn’t welcomed up at the Village Café! The race fan base brings its own crowd and It includes more than a dozen or so mullet haircuts but the guy who stands up in the grandstand blocking the view screaming nothing but “Go Dale!” or “Git-R-Dun!” Like he was a toy with a ripcord hanging out of his back. Don’t forget the two young gentlemen standing at the start finish line who were encouraged by none other than the state police and track security guards to put that fourth Beer into the funnel and chug away to entertain an entire seating section cheering them on. Most disturbing to me in this scene was the two 13 or so year old boys standing right next to these idiots and looking upon them with envy as if they were heroes. You could see in the kids face “I can’t wait to grow up and funnel beer before 10,000 people and have the cop give me the A-OK” ah perhaps I’m a prude but can you wonder why the all the area schools were closed because the race was postponed until Monday from Saturdays rain and the race traffic would coincide with the bus traffic? A Local official called this “A recipe for disaster and a chance not worth taking.” Perhaps even more horrifying is one of the T-Shirt Vendors whose merchandise features “Rebel-Dawg” who in a sinister cartoon caricature of a Bulldog in front of a podium before the Atlanta Capitol Dome and the Old Glory Stars And Bars Rebel Flag exclaiming with fist (Paw) in the air “I too have a dream!” Just try to imagine the person who creates this and realizes it can be sold and even worse try to imagine the individual who proudly wears this out. I liken this to someone George Carlin describes as the inventor of the flamethrower…. “You know there’s a bunch of people over there that I need to set on fire and from over here I just can’t get the job done.” Finally I have to mention the teenage girl working the register at the Kentucky Fried Chicken in Lexington Virginia. Now Lexington is one of the nicest, cleanest, most beautiful settings you’ll find in Virginia if not the whole country and it is steeped in history. We rolled off I-81 for something to eat and landed in the KFC and noticed on the corner a sign “Thomas Stonewall Jackson Home” Well traveling with a pair of civil war history buffs made it necessary to stop for a look. So my buddy asks the girl who lives in Lexington and is easily 19 years old “Where is Stonewall Jackson’s house” The girl retorts who? “Stonewall Jackson! You mean you live here and you don’t know who he is?” My friend gasps. The girl says, “Wasn’t he a sergeant or something.” Frustrated that conversation ended with I’ll have the two-piece meal extra crispy.While we sat picking away at our chicken the girl comes back and tells us she feels bad for us pointing out that she (like most kids sadly) Have no clue about American History or anything for that matter.” My friend replied, “Damn girl! Where’s your daddy so I can tell him to slap some sense into you! I can’t believe you live right here and don’t know who Thomas Jackson is.” He then mutters to me “Stupid twit! All she has to do is to read one sign a day on the road around here and she would have learned a lot right there. In fairness I must say people around here aren’t much better when it comes to taking a stake in you local history or heritage, where you come from and who you are.