300 Feet Below Ground ... What Started It All
Sometime during the winter, CBS Sunday Morning (which we watch every Sunday as a family; Harper expresses great displeasure whenever Charles Osgood deigns to call in sick) ran a feature on the Mammoth Caves. We watched in awe. "We want to go to there," we thought. With a bit of time on Google Maps, we realized we could visit the caves in Kentucky and then visit Tennessee: Nashville, Memphis, Dollywood! And so ... We're on summer vacation in the South. As my Southern-born and named son Penn observed, "You know you're in the South when the church is selling fireworks as a fundraiser." Note, he said this just as we pulled into Zaxby's--where fried chicken fingers are an art form. Our trip began in the land of another chicken delicacy: Buffalo. After getting our Upstate-on at Anchor Bar. Fried pickles, wings, wing dip, wing nuggets, beef on weck? Um, yes. We settled down at the gate, where for the first time in my hundreds of f...