Backtime Road Trip Day 4: Been Down This Road Before

Just played a 48-hour game of Running Bases on I-65.

I returned to Al Obama last night to pick up the kids for the journey north today. Stayed at my Father-In-Law's lake house, which is gorgeous and expansive, but has sketchy cell phone service and no internet (thus no road trip blog entry for yesterday).

Anyway we were off this morning, boomerang ready to launch. Two hours later, we were at the Nashville Zoo. One of the things that lured me there was the "Jungle Gym."

On the zoo's website, it describes the playground as 66,000 square feet with a 35-foot tall "Tree of Life." So we had barely waved to a couple of gibbons and squawked at a macaw, and my son was off to scour every inch of the structure.

Just over an hour later, in 96-degree heat, both kids were over-heated and under-nourished. The snack bar was the last stop in the zoo. The rest of the animals would have to wait until the next road trip.

So as I re-traced my steps back up to the greater-Louisville area, we passed the exact spot where I sat still on I-65 for over 3 hours Friday. I was listening to the Yankees-M's game on my never-leave-home-without-my XM radio. It was then I learned of the passing of legendary Yankees Public Address Announcer Bob Sheppard. Since I had been somewhat information-deprived, this was the first I heard of it - it was like the day the music died.

Sheppard was 99, and was the P.A. voice of the Yankees, Giants football, and St. John's basketball, where he taught speech for a quarter-century. Growing up in New Jersey literally minutes from The Stadium, everybody knew, and everybody mimicked Sheppard. Imitation is after all the greatest form of flattery.

My favorite Sheppard impersonation came from Sunday Night Baseball play-by-play man Jon Miller, who would have Sheppard ordering breakfast at Denny's.

"I'll have number one. Eggs...and toast. Number one."

We appropriately passed Shepherdsville, KY en route to Brooks, KY, where we crash for the night. And if the kids were dragging from the long trip (and there's plenty more of that to come), there was an outdoor pool and Papa John's on the menu. Hopefully things go swimmingly from here.

Backtime Road Trip Day 2: Sea of Tranquility

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to do the math.

Here's the equation:

(1 tired Dad - 2 Kids dropped at in-laws + 1 hotel room + 2 shades drawn + 1 Do Not Disturb sign + 1 Melatonin) = 11 hours of sleep.

So I woke up refreshed in Huntsville, and prepared for my second annual solo summer sojourn to Louisville. So I hit the road by way of US Space and Rocket Center. I figured traveling through space is what my kids will do instead of us old-timers who wait in airports and occasionally get to hit the open road. So how about space camp?

Now that's the ultimate open road. From there, my GPS took me on backroads back to the interstate. Apparently I crossed into Tennessee and didn't even know it. Maybe they were embarrassed that a couple more Volunteer football players just got arrested. And I thought the new boss was nothing like the old boss.

But it was in Kentucky, just 90 minutes from my destination, where the smooth sailing ended. Was it an accident or a crime scene? Maybe US Deputy Marshal Raylan Givens had another Justified shooting.

This was the picture for over 3 hours in the mid-to-late afternoon on I-65 in Kentucky. Apparently while the road was still slippery, a compact car was wedged under a semi about a mile ahead. Timing is everything in life. If I left 10 minutes earlier I never would have been caught up in this. But if I left 5 minutes earlier, I might have been killed.

I was just two miles from the exit and woefully short on gas. The shoulder was unavailable because at least a dozen cops and emergency vehicles were occupying it. The exit 3 miles behind us was where the traffic south of us was being detoured so I couldn't afford to be idling with a near-empty tank.

Thankfully, the kids weren't with me. I used up all the juice on the cell phone, portable DVD player, and the laptop and didn't want to start the battery since I had no idea how long I'd be sitting there.

Mercifully, just as the mosquitos descended, the traffic started moving. I made it to the exit before running out of gas, and pulled into your friendly neighborhood British Petroleum station. When I coasted in, Jackson Browne's "Running On Empty" was playing on the loudspeaker. Maybe things do happen for a reason.

Just like wheeling in to Louisville just after dark, and fireworks lighting up the skyline for my arrival.

Maybe space is overrated. All the action's down here.

What's Up Homes? Truck Stop Royalty Edition

Yes, and my wife is an heiress.

The Jack's service station/restaurant/western wear/outdoor wear empire looms prominently in the Cullman, Alabama skyline. If you've ever traveled I-65 from Birmingham to Huntsville, then you've probably frequented the family truck stop.

My father-in-law (the grandkids call him "Pa-Paw") lives way out in the boonies in a majestic place on Smith Lake.

Oh yes, it's haunted too. The Savannahesque statue guards 17 graves in the front yard. My wife reports all sorts of strange happenings from her childhood, including a sleepwalking chase which involved tearing out a window screen...Just another piece of the puzzle I guess.

The owner is a stickler for decor in all five bedrooms on three levels.










It makes me think I might have jumped to conclusions about life in Alabama and the truck stop business. Maybe I ought to tear up that screenplay.