play me some mountain music

So tomorrow I head off to the last great bastion of American chivalry: Kentucky. Truly a place built by guns and multi-colored suspenders, covered with an enduring sense that the past has more to teach us than the present. This will be my first visit to the Bluegrass state, and will likely go down as an unfortunately normal experience. We won't have time to tour the horse tracks or moonshine distilleries, and I'm afraid no one in our caravan is proficient in proper banjo mechanics.

We will however, be with thousands of other out-of-staters, and I'm willing to bet (at least against myself), that I won't have laid my head down tomorrow night before hearing at least two hillbilly jokes. You mark my words -- it's going to happen. Uncoerced, unprovoked, without any influence from me. Someone is going to tell a great hillbilly joke tomorrow and everyone will laugh.

Laughter is not all that familiar in Kentucky. Rumor has it that it was discovered by Lewis & Clark on their initial trek to Missouri, when Clark, always the dufous, managed to singe his pajamas on an old fashioned turkey-fryer, ran headlong into a tree, and fell into Mammoth Cave. Early settlers just so happened to be using the cave as a goat breeding hatchery, and Clark was trampled in the ensuing chaos. Lewis, fresh off of learning he could twist his mustache with toothpicks, began to roar with laugher, calling it the funniest site he'd ever seen. The curse of this laughterless territory began to break.

Then, a big change in Kentuckic Laughtership came with the birth of Jim Varney, who was born in Lexington. Lexington is known as the "Horse Capital of the World," and Varney decided at an early age that he was going to become one of them. Forsaking traditional methods of breeding and grooming, Jimmy decided to do what so few in Kentucky had ever tried: He was going to laugh. Laugh a lot. He was going to make other people laugh too. The weight of this statement can't be measured. We in the outside world laugh all the time, but a Kentuckic Laugher has a hard time finding any(without the aid of a foriegn substance). The grit, gristle, and tractor grease of 160 years has weighed heavy on their heads, forcing most to seek chiropractic assistance, and many into early retirement. They've even had to make their pitchforks shorter. We're talking a major problem.

Any way, Mr. Varney comes along and makes several movies and the world began to see a glimmer of hope for this region and its future.

More is sure to come in following posts, but we'll leave it there for now. If you read this whole thing, I'm proud of you.