Day Five - Columbus to Nashville

Bob the Chicken

In Tennessee. We miss our children and grandchildren back in Columbus, as well as our newest friend, Bob the Chicken:

Bob is about two inches square and belongs to Violet. Now Violet doesn't order chicken, and gives a look to those of us who do. But we explain that we won't eat any chickens unless they're already dead, and that seems to pacify her somewhat.

Big, big trucks

I love trucks. Not the forty-thousand dollar pickups with nothing in them that substitute for redneck testosterone. The big ones, with eighteen wheels and twelve gears forward, full of merchandise. For one thing, a lot of semis on the road means business is pretty good. People who complain about trucks in their way on the highway should remember that without them we'd either starve or go naked or both. Or worse, have to do without our cell phones or video games (oh gawd, not that!) Drivers should also show the truckers some respect; these men and women are working, and it's hard work. They're paid by the mile but limited as to how many miles and/or hours they can drive. They're away from their families for days or weeks at a time. When I see some dude partying in his Escalade refusing to make room for a trucker who needs to change lanes to avoid shifting down three gears, I want to throttle him.

We see a lot of the grilles on big trucks in the rear view mirror, and coming the other way. The one we've seen most often on this trip is this one:

I wasn't aware that Volvo had become such a big player in the semi truck business.

Peterbilt:

Freightliner:

Kenworth:

Mack:

International:

Mercedes:

Of the many trucks we see, I prefer the ones that are actually trucking companies, large and small. Schneider or Con-Way or Marten or Estes or Moe's Trucking, even UPS and FedEx. They're the ones providing logistics services to businesses and individuals. Not as high on my list are trucks marked Wal-Mart or McDonald's and the like. Because you know when a company gets so big it has its own fleet it's bordering on evil empire status:

There are exceptions, of course:

OK, enough about trucks. But may they continue to roll.

Queen Anne's Lace

Not a lot to see as you cross Kentucky on Route 71 which somewhere turns into Route 65 without asking. But beyond the berm on either side of the highway is Queen Anne's Lace, lots and lots of Queen Anne's Lace:

Bird wars

After checking into the Courtyard Inn outside of Nashville, and Mary Frances doing two loads of washing while Jan played with pictures of trucks, we glanced out the fourth floor window toward the parking lot and noticed a pretty serious war going on. For years I've noticed that after feeding and breeding, the most important task in any small bird's life is to torment larger birds. A crow walking along the parking lot (it is a lovely day for a walk, after all) was being buzz-bombed by Mr. Mockingbird, and chased on the ground by Mrs. Mockingbird. As we watched we learned that the Mockingbird couple have a nest in a nearby little tree, about which the crow could not have cared less, but apparently they felt threatened anyway and continued their campaign of harassment. For his (or maybe her) part, the crow didn't seem particularly worried or threatened, but casually ducked when Mr. flew at his head, and glanced back now and then to stop Mrs. in her tracks, which then seemed to anger Mr. all over again. When flying, Mockingbirds look like two gray and white pinwheels that ran into each other and are seriously out of control. Eventually, the crow decided the game was getting boring and decided to fly off and find some roadkill lunch, but Mr. Mockingbird wasn't having any. He continued to pester the crow till they were out of sight, while Mrs. Mockingbird returned to the nest to sit on eggs or feed the babies, thinking, “Well, I guess we showed him.”

Triple A

All right, I've put you through enough pain and suffering before mentioning what we're all doing here: baseball. Before we left home we ordered tickets for triple A games, one of them being tonight; the Nashville Sounds versus the Iowa Cubs. The Sounds are affiliated with the Milwaukee Brewers, and the Cubs are affiliated with, well, the cubs. They play at Herschel Greer Stadium, which on the outside is quite beat up and inconveniently located, but on the inside is a neat, well-designed ball park.

OK, this is embarrassing, but we correctly felt there might be traffic issues in the thirteen miles from our hotel to the park, so we left more than an hour and three-quarters early, knowing the gates would open an hour ahead of the game. Sure enough, a crash 5 miles beyond the stadium brought traffic to a messy slowness, and getting there took nearly an hour. Somehow we copped a parking spot close enough to the entrance that we could call balls and strikes, and lots of other people were already there having tailgate parties and standing around. So I went to the ticket window to make sure the ones I printed at home were good, and asked why the gates hadn't open yet. “They'll open in half an hour,” the young lady said. “But it's already 6:30; they're supposed to open at six.” “No, it's 5:30,” she said, still smiling. And it dawned on me, we're in the Central Time Zone! So in fact we had left the hotel at 4:45 for a seven o'clock game. Between that and finding out that Nashville is actually west of Louisville, which I'd have bet my entire meager fortune could not be true, I'm beginning to feel geographically challenged. Or, for challenged substitute stupid, your call.

It turned out to be a very well-played game between two teams with good pitching, hitting and fielding. The home team won 4-1, so the mood in the crowd was good, and our seats in the second row behind the visitor dugout were perfect. (In the majors the home teams tend to inhabit the first base line dugout and the visitors the third base line. In Triple A it tends to be the opposite.)

The major feature of Herschel Greer Stadium is the giant guitar-shaped scoreboard over the center field wall. The distances are 325 feet on the foul lines and 400 feet to center, so it's a legitimate ball park.

Two former Red Sox play with these teams. Jose de la Torre, a reliever for the Sounds who was not called today, pitched in 11 games for the Sox last year. Ryan Kalish, once the hottest of Sox prospects and who contributed a lot a couple years back, is playing center field for the Iowa Cubs now, and hitting just a buck and a half. Here's Ryan:

The weather was perfect, the hot dogs were a buck apiece (although two beers cost us fifteen bucks) and the ride back to the hotel was much faster than the one to the game.

A busy and pleasant day. Guess we'll have to stay in Nashville tomorrow.