behold majestic kings on real camels...

i told the clerk at the convenience store that i noticed a lot of dumptrucks and construction vehicles on the roads. things appear to be humming in sevierville and pigeon forge tennessee. "o yes," she said every year pigeon forge is just "biggr and bitter than EE-ver..." i like to visit the area, not just because sevierville is dolly parton's hometown and the location of "dollywood" — with its dolly parton museum and wig collection; it cant go wrong — but because its one of the largest sprawl developments in the world. branson MO/silver dollar city and bloomington MN/mall of america are its only rivals in terms of size.
so every year its bigger. more fireworks stores; "sexy stuff" lingerie outlets; bible bookstores; tshirt stores; and miles and miles and miles of franchises. the major cultural attractions in the greater gattlinburg area are the "dixie stampede" dinner theater ("hilarious ostrich and pig races ... pitting the north against the south in family friendly fun rivalry"); forbidden caverns; parrot mountain ("hundreds of tropical birds in a garden of eden setting"); various ripley's "adventure theaters"; elwood smooch's old smoky hoedown; and of course "the miracle" — "a stunning faith-based musical of epic proportion!" see "magnificent aerial battle of angles... witness lucifer's fall from grace ... see the birth of christ in all its glory ... behold majestic kings on real camels ... feel the wind and rain as jesus calms the sea ... experience the passion of His crucifixion ... behold His miraculous acsension!" i guess im always trying to understand america. thats why im drawn to places like pigeon forge. my brother and i visited for the first time about 20 years ago. he and my sister-in-law purchased gifts for their wedding party at the smokey mountian knife works. and so, i keep on going back. but each time i go, it seems like i understand america Less.

the bears roar interupts the silent canoe. the lynx is startled. the heron looks on. regulation fire and safety lighting has been installed.

jumping an elk and diggin in those claws is always patriotic. go for the juguler baby.
a polar bear in a case bears the inscription "souveniers of alaska". are the snowshoes leftovers from his lunch?

pay dirt in greenville, tennessee...

just a few miles south of highway 81 in the small town of greenville, tennessee is the andrew johnson historic site, home, national park service visitor center and the andrew johnson national cemetery.
i took the tour on my way back to vermont from new orleans. there was a very nice park ranger. there was johnson's tailor shop, all weatherbeaten yellow poplar clapboards, preserved for all time within a new-federal brick visitor center, just a few blocks from the house.
his house is the home that johnson, 17th president of the united states and abraham lincoln's vice president, lived in at the time of his demise at the age of 67. in the back yard there are several willow trees. the ranger explained to me that the trees all grew from an original tree, a willow that was brought to greenville as a gift to the johnson family. that original cutting was from the willow which draped it branches over the tomb of napoleon in france. there was a branch lying at the base of one of the trees the day i visited, probably damaged by an ice storm earlier in the season. it lay there on the ground, tiny pale green leaves bursting out along its flexible stalk. although the branch was separate from the tree, willows are vigorous. it was a perfect opportunity with a perfect story behind it. and so the main street museum is now the possessor of a botanical sample of a willow (Salix babylonica) taken from the cuttings of trees that sheltered the final resting place of napoleon.
now im back in vermont and cant wait to get more display cases built and this museum up and running. im going to work all spring at it. none of yall will believe what you see as it presents itself to the world.
the picture shows the backyard and the trees.
the educational film on johnson at the visitor center was also very informative.

the sweet sticky ooze of post mardi gras

this is matt, surfing on a discarded ironing board on dumaine street in the french quarter. theres lots of abandoned household items on the street at this time, in this town.
mardi gras has oozed into post mardi gras. at midnight on tuesday night (ash wednesday morning) cops and patrol cars and horses and garbage trucks processed down bourbon street in a haze of flashing lights and sirens as the crowd roared in unison “we who are about to die salute you!” carnival officially flipped over into lent. the cops on horseback raised their riding crops as if they were elevating the host in high mass. the crowd loved it more than ever this year. the whole scene actually may have been almost as dramatic as im making it sound.

so many said to us “thank you… thank you!” they thanked us for coming. its wonderful to be thanked for just showing up.
the restaurants are still humming here, but now you can actually get a table for two by the window at 7pm. gloria and i have just come back from “snug harbor” a good place to eat. they have live music later in the evenings. i had crawfish étouffée over long grain rice and sampled gloria's blackened sea bass. i am overfull — sweetness and warmth still radiating from my stomach. as i walked down city sidewalks this sensation was combined with the scent of the angel’s trumpet, night blooming jasmine vine and sweet olive. these plants are in full bloom now throughout the city, confusing the air with their sweetness, raging with sticky pheromones, calling to all insects, “fuck, fuck me now!”
nothing out of the ordinary for this town.