Southern People and the Lies Percy Jackson Told Me

Today is the last day of my vacation, so I thought I’d give a general overview of the random things I’ve seen and learned along the way.

Because I totally learned…a lot…?

Day 1: the Parthenon. Not the real one (aw), but the fake one in Tennessee. Now you might be thinking: “What would Tennessee need with a fake Parthenon from Greece?”

My answer: I have no freaking clue.

For real, though. Why??? Did they just have some leftover money and were like: “Hey, let’s build something unique! How about a replica of a building in Greece that has no correlation with what is here in Tennessee?!” “Sure, sounds great!”

Okay, so that was a poor rendition of the conversation, but you get my point.

If you’ve seen Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief, you will know that one of their stops is at the fake Parthenon in Nashville. Except the actual fake Parthenon looks NOTHING LIKE THE MOVIE VERSION. Which means the movie-making people would have had to have built a fake-fake Parthenon to film, um, 3(?) scenes.

I’m exasperated. This is stupid.

The outside of it looked like it did in the movie. Only, you quickly learn that 1) you cannot actually walk through the front door because they are blocked off by ropes and chains. Why? I couldn’t tell you. You would think doors are doors…

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And 2) the statue looks NOTHING like it did in the movie! Way to be accurate, Percy Jackson.

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I just can’t handle the frustration. LIES!!!

So, yeah, that’s what I took away from our trip to the (fake) Parthenon.

Day 2: The next day we went to the Jack Daniel’s distillery–the only place in the world that makes Jack Daniel’s whiskey (fun fact: if you’re a fan of the whiskey, you can invest $9,000-$12,000 on a barrel of whiskey which you get to 1) personally pick out yourself via taste test, 2) receive the contents of the barrel (roughly 240 bottles of whiskey), and 3) have the barrel and all 240 bottles brought to you wherever you are in the country. You also get your name on a golden plaque in a special room, putting you in with a crowd including the Zac Brown Band and Eric Church–and a crap ton of other famous people whose names are currently slipping my mind).

Oh, and fun fact number two: Jack died because–in a fit of anger due to forgetting the code to his safe–he kicked it, broke his toe, got an infection, and died.

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Which kind of sounds like something I would do. Kicking something due to my own forgetfulness? Yup, sounds just like me.

Day 3: Finally, while we were shopping in downtown Nashville, we (my aunts and myself) were stopped by an old southern man who thought that it was an appropriate time to tell us a handful of good ol’ southern stories. A southern story is when someone from the south (obviously)–typically someone in the 70-100 age range–tells you stories about their life and the “good ol’ days” back before “etc. etc.” happened and people still cared about one another.

If you’ve never been told a southern story by someone before, I highly suggest you add it to your bucket list. Sometimes the stories themselves are pointless, but you learn a lot about different places and small towns that way. It’s great if you’re a writer to add depth to characters, but even if you’re not a writer, southern stories will tell you a lot about people and places you’re unfamiliar with. You could learn something.

If you don’t rip all of your hair out first.

Because…    you know…    old southern people…   they typically go…   about…     this…     speed…     when…   they talk.

And I do get to say that because I’m related to (and know a ton of) old southern people.

Anyway, we finally did get to finish shopping, and the rest of the trip was spent in my aunt’s pool.

…Or maybe we didn’t actually make it out of there. Maybe I’m writing this to you as an S.O.S. while the old man continues to tell us stories about buying shoes (and this isn’t even a shoe store) Aaaahhhh!

Mel

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