Originally written just prior to the 1982 World's Fair in Knoxville, TN.
I have had a few experiences in my lifetime that I do not care to repeat. The second trip to Carlsbad Caverns held no excitement for me. The Grand Canyon was not as exciting on a return trip.
We covered every mound and confederate memorial at Vicksburg one summer, fought it like work. We pass through there now and say we have been there. I don't care to go back to Yellowstone. My excitement of Yellowstone has been overdone. The mystic of those little hot springs and waiting for an hour for Old Faithful to erupt again in the wind and dirt, roped off so far away you could not see, was the really big thing there. There was a lot of natural beauty. The snow was on the mountains. We saw bears and antelope but I don't need to to again.
We went to the top of Pike's Peak on that same trip. The trip up was treacherous and coming down was no better. We thought, "When we get on top, we'll relax and see the beautiful scenery." It was on Pike's Peak that the author of "America the Beautiful" was inspired to write the song.
When we were finally there, the wind was blowing forty miles and hour, the temperature was below freezing, and we were light-headed, we were 'typsying' around like astronauts. It was nothing short of miserable. We lacked sufficient clothes. The way you felt you could have flown away from there. The only haven was a pressurized gift shop to get yourself back together again. We were on John Denver's "Rocky Mountain High", as tipsy as Mrs. Minerva.
We were told to stop on the way down and cool our brakes.
We hauled out the picnic baskets and had a picnic in outer space, hiding behind rocks and heavy growth to stay warm. The scenery was majestic when we dared to look. We threw snowballs at one another and drained the coffee thermos.
I never tire of the big redwoods. That, I do want to do again. I never tire of the Navy tied up in San Diego or Norfolk. Touring one of those ships is strenuous. However, it makes you feel more like a sailor.
I do like the mountains. I like to look at the snow on top through binoculars and by peeking outside my motel window at them at sunrise. I like mountain laurel from the window of the car. Climbing mountains holds no intrigue. I stood on the side of one when I was a child and picked cotton and thinned corn, balancing my six-year old body to stay there.
Knoxville is getting ready for the big World's Fair. I marvel at their gusto. Imagine spending all of that money to tear up and reset your town. People will come from all over the world. Some make a hobby of going to a World's Fair. Some people never miss one. The Smoky Mountains will never be the same. Folks in our area can go conveniently. No one should miss it.
We were disappointed with the United States pavilion, when we went that time. The point of interest was the movie industry. Hopefully, since it is in Knoxville, the country music industry will be highlighted.
Space and natural resources, education, and the field of medicine are other fields we have excelled in. I hope the people in charge will show us in reality instead of the make believe world.
The arts should be something to see, with present trend toward crafts. The Tennessee hill country should exhibit their best. Ham, biscuits, and red eye gravy should be staples on the menu.
Knoxville is so accessible from Ashville, Atlanta, Chattanooga, and Nashville, tourists should really get their money's worth.
The Indians in Cherokee will need new garb and Maggie Valley will to grease the merry-go-rounds.
A World's Fair never makes money. I am told, however, there will be some floating around. Maybe, it will be a boost to the Southland.
I intend to go. Blistered feet, chapped lips, and little miseries will not keep me away.
I have had a few experiences in my lifetime that I do not care to repeat. The second trip to Carlsbad Caverns held no excitement for me. The Grand Canyon was not as exciting on a return trip.
We covered every mound and confederate memorial at Vicksburg one summer, fought it like work. We pass through there now and say we have been there. I don't care to go back to Yellowstone. My excitement of Yellowstone has been overdone. The mystic of those little hot springs and waiting for an hour for Old Faithful to erupt again in the wind and dirt, roped off so far away you could not see, was the really big thing there. There was a lot of natural beauty. The snow was on the mountains. We saw bears and antelope but I don't need to to again.
We went to the top of Pike's Peak on that same trip. The trip up was treacherous and coming down was no better. We thought, "When we get on top, we'll relax and see the beautiful scenery." It was on Pike's Peak that the author of "America the Beautiful" was inspired to write the song.
When we were finally there, the wind was blowing forty miles and hour, the temperature was below freezing, and we were light-headed, we were 'typsying' around like astronauts. It was nothing short of miserable. We lacked sufficient clothes. The way you felt you could have flown away from there. The only haven was a pressurized gift shop to get yourself back together again. We were on John Denver's "Rocky Mountain High", as tipsy as Mrs. Minerva.
We were told to stop on the way down and cool our brakes.
We hauled out the picnic baskets and had a picnic in outer space, hiding behind rocks and heavy growth to stay warm. The scenery was majestic when we dared to look. We threw snowballs at one another and drained the coffee thermos.
I never tire of the big redwoods. That, I do want to do again. I never tire of the Navy tied up in San Diego or Norfolk. Touring one of those ships is strenuous. However, it makes you feel more like a sailor.
I do like the mountains. I like to look at the snow on top through binoculars and by peeking outside my motel window at them at sunrise. I like mountain laurel from the window of the car. Climbing mountains holds no intrigue. I stood on the side of one when I was a child and picked cotton and thinned corn, balancing my six-year old body to stay there.
Knoxville is getting ready for the big World's Fair. I marvel at their gusto. Imagine spending all of that money to tear up and reset your town. People will come from all over the world. Some make a hobby of going to a World's Fair. Some people never miss one. The Smoky Mountains will never be the same. Folks in our area can go conveniently. No one should miss it.
We were disappointed with the United States pavilion, when we went that time. The point of interest was the movie industry. Hopefully, since it is in Knoxville, the country music industry will be highlighted.
Space and natural resources, education, and the field of medicine are other fields we have excelled in. I hope the people in charge will show us in reality instead of the make believe world.
The arts should be something to see, with present trend toward crafts. The Tennessee hill country should exhibit their best. Ham, biscuits, and red eye gravy should be staples on the menu.
Knoxville is so accessible from Ashville, Atlanta, Chattanooga, and Nashville, tourists should really get their money's worth.
The Indians in Cherokee will need new garb and Maggie Valley will to grease the merry-go-rounds.
A World's Fair never makes money. I am told, however, there will be some floating around. Maybe, it will be a boost to the Southland.
I intend to go. Blistered feet, chapped lips, and little miseries will not keep me away.
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