Anyway, I can hardly contain my excitement! Need more sleep, though, so will try to get some.
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I am at Mammoth Cave National Park! Here be MAMMOTHS!
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What a damned bitter disappointment! I explained to a park ranger in the visitor center that I had to be in Louisville, could not be at the cave entrance that evening, and could she direct me to where I could view film of the mammoths leaving the cave at dusk to hunt insects. An odd look momentarily crossed her face as she took a step back, but then she explained that there are no mammoths. The name refers to the size of the cave. She was very, very polite, and seemed a bit nervous, so I did not complain about misleading the public. It is not her fault. Still, this is disappointment exceeding even the absence of Navajo fry bread. I mean, the cave should not be named Mammoth Cave! It should be Huge Cave, or Really Big Cave, or even Biggest Cave, but not Mammoth Cave if it has no mammoths. I am tempted to call the Kentucky Attorney Generals office. I know the Idaho AG's office has a consumer protection division, and Brett would be all over this.
Here be No Mammoths.
In further bitter news, Scotty emailed me to say that Herbie K was not killed at his restaurant. It was a later owner who met his demise there. I like my version better and am sticking to it. Actual facts can be mighty dull.
I might have known today would bring tears. I left Nashville just a shade too late. Slept in about an extra 1/2 hour because tour director Pat told me that Louisville was only a bit more than an hour from Nashville. I suppose that is correct if you are willing to go 157 miles per hour. So, based on this rotten info, I, as I say, slept in an extra 1/2 hour. I just missed getting out of Nashville before the rains came. Still, they were not real downpours and it looked as though I would be out of them quickly, so rather than take the time to get into my wet gear, I decided to drive through it. Looked like a good choice until the interstate took a bend right into a really heavy rain. Instantly soaked. I swear it soaked my shirt front and back. The only rational explanation is that it soaked through the front, was driven completely through my body, and then soaked my back. True fact. It's science, people. Oddly enough, I felt no compelling urge to hydrate for some time after this. I mostly dried out about forty miles after it stopped raining.
About 40 miles south of Louisville, traffic came to a complete standstill on a three lane interstate. It was stop and go for miles. I figured it was a semi accident to cause such a big tie up, and sure enough, it was. Closed two of the three lanes. Stop and go driving on an interstate surrounded by 18 wheelers is not my favorite.
Forgot to mention the kamikaze deer that tried to get me on the Trace. I was driving along and saw a flash of brown cross the road a bit in front of me. Slowed down right away because I assumed it was a deer and I always assume the deer I see is not alone. Good assumptions. A really squirrelly, even-dumber-than-your-average-deer deer hopped out in front of me. It was close enough I could see the headband with the red circle tied around its head. Because I slowed, I had no trouble avoiding it. So smart, so clever, so still alive.
Had some difficulty getting to my brother-in-law John and his wife Jeannie's house. The municipal area in which they live is saving huge amounts on street signs. And speaking of signs, we went into Louisville for dinner at a fine Italian hole-in-the-wall, where I of course over ate in celebration of my Italian heritage, and on the way I we saw a sign that read, "Possible Ice On Bridge." This is right up there with "Gusty Winds May Exist" or whatever that sign in New Mexico said. As John said, how about "Possible Popcorn On Bridge?" My hypothesis about philosophy majors and sign departments now has more supporting data. Soon I shall publish. Want to bet there is some obscure academic journal out there that really would publish it?
Jeannie and I had a nice time catching up, and I got to see their youngest, Michelle, who is much taller than I recall. Of course, she was nine then and is nineteen now. When John got home, I asked him about his IPO adventure. John was brought into a metals company to rescue it. It was probably not worth the cost of its inventory when he came on board. He turned it around, and the owner decided to take it public. Two weeks ago, after 2 1/2 years, the deal was finally completed. I am astonished at the shenanigans of the investment bankers. They have a built in conflict of interest and this doesn't seem to bother anyone in the industry. A lawyer in Idaho would be disbarred for doing something similar. And the investment bankers weren't the only questionable actors.
John and Jeannie's house is very, very nice as you might expect of someone who can turn around a basically defunct company and have it start making enough money to go public. I have yet to come up with a suitable name for this particular refuge.
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