My brood has been in Gatlinburg, TN since Thursday night attending a family reunion for the paternal side of Jinni's family; namely the Tapscotts and the Burtons. It was great to re-acquaint ourselves and our kids with far-flung uncles, aunts and cousins - some of them of the 'removed' variety, others with much closer-in blood. The Hoggard clan assembled up there a few years ago in celebration of my parents' 50th wedding anniversary so we knew the lay of the land pretty well and avoided much of it.
For those of you who haven't visited the Gatlinburg/Pigeon Forge area in a while, picture it this way: Myrtle Beach's Ovean Boulevard on a mountain road. Because of our (read my and Jinni's) aversion to such tourist traps we tended not to stray very far from our precariously constructed 'chalet' that was situated almost at eye level with Ober Gatlinburg's famous tram. But we made our own fun.
As the trams wafted by every fifteen minutes stuffed full of 100 or so folks taking in the breathtaking beauty of the Great Smokies, a whole deckful of Hoggard/Tapscott kids and adults would stand next to the railing on the third floor of our 'chalet' and wave at them like crazy people until we got a reciprocal response from all aboard.
But our 11 year-old Jesse had another way to elicit a response from those who had paid their $9 to see the local scenery. When he thought his grandparents were otherwise occupied he'd present the tourists with a fleeting, but full, North Carolina moon.
I really like that boy.
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Epilogue: Fifteen-year-old Jackson has had his driving permit now for nine or ten months but he just refuses to drive any Hoggard-owned car due to the fact that our old, beat-up, but fully-paid-for vehicles just aren't worthy of his coolness. However, during tonight's drive home I convinced him that he really needs to get in some high-speed Interstate driving experience and that no one would recognize him while doing so.
He took the wheel of our 12 year-old Plymouth Voyager after a dinner stop in Hickory and headed down I-40 with me in the co-pilot's seat and Jinni sitting in the back seat whilst taking up cigarette smoking again just for the occasion.
The existence of these words will attest to the success of Jack's Interstate efforts: we-did-not-die. However, only mere minutes after our eldest successfully parked the van in our driveway, Jinni headed upstairs and took to our bed mumbling something about an upset stomach. As for me, I was real grateful we had not taken all of our Bourbon to the mountains.
12:26:12 AM 
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