Dixie Chicken

I was on my annual trip to catch fish, or, that used to be the case. Now it was a chance to get away from everyone. It used to go with my son, but divorce changes things. I was pulling off I-40 onto TN-412 toward Linden. It was actually faster to cut over a little further east, but there was a gas place I used often when I came through, it was familiar in the smells and the same chime on the door. Besides, being off the interstate was always nice. Especially during springtime in the south.

"Why would you name a boat 'Rack of Lamb?'" A fellow asked me as I pumped gas.
"If we had all day and lots of beer, I could explain. Maybe."

Back on the road, it played out in my head again. I looked back at the boat in the mirror and sighed. Stopping had been a bad idea from the start, but sometimes an itch has to be scratched. I do love boats, and it so happens one of the biggest showrooms around is on the way to the lakes I like to fish. If it was limited to a visit or two a year, it's fine. But once inside, it might be dark before I left. Last year, on a trip early in the season, it seemed like a good time for a visit.

I always hit the bar inside the huge outdoor store first when I wasn't with my kid. I do love a good Bloody Mary, because everything in it -- except the vodka -- is good for you. As I crunched spicy celery and asparagus, it seemed as if eyes were on me. The sting of the salted rim hit my tongue, but a pull from the pint glass soothed it with the mix of juice and alcohol, and I turned my head a tad left and right. The coy move was over when I saw her. She was lovely in the face with the southern soft features and high cheek bones. The lips were luscious and full that sipped a drink, then bit the straw. Then that blond beauty looked right at me and smiled, the straw still lightly held in her teeth. And light? That was my head. I barely read the "LAMB" on her name tag as she stood, tall and full figured, and walked out of the bar.

I didn't really follow her, but I had an idea where she was going, so it was an easy choice of destination. The place had a good sized display of animals both living and taxidermy mounts. It didn't take long to catch up, and we looked at a few animals together, then we came by a huge chicken.

"Well, he's big."
"Dixie? Yep. He's not really from here, though."
"Yep, he in't a normal yardbird." A stranger said behind us.
"He was actually wild in a nearby state."
"Then he has been properly memorialized in here!"
"Indeed, he has. Besides, what exhibit is complete without a big cock?" The stranger and I smiled at one another as she moved on.

It turned out he had another woman to find, so I just followed and looked at the displays, knowing we'd end up on a deck overlooking the bass boat showroom. She pointed out several of the new boats, and how one might be better for me than another. I was listening, but divorced a year, I was more captivated. I'm not the most handsome man, I topped out about three inches over her 5'7". But just over forty, and in good shape, I wasn't too bad. She sang a little ditty about bass boats with a beautiful voice, looked me up and down, and took me home. The week went by like the wind, we drank, we talked, and she was something else. I'll never be the same.

When she dropped me back off a week later, she said she had one more surprise. We both went in and she walked past all the sales staff to her own office. Apparently, it was something we discussed, though I don't recall it. The contract wasn't huge, quite affordable really, with 30% off the sticker! All her initials on the paperwork were T.N. I never found out what they meant.

I brought myself back to the present. I'd been driving on auto-pilot for a bit, and that's never good, but it was coming up. It was a little house, but with roofed porches all around. You could amble it like a boardwalk. Someone had been letting the place go, and the old picket fence was gray and dilapidated. I briefly thought about buying it, then stopped myself, because living with that short memory wouldn't be fun.

"Well, Ms. Lamb didn't work for us, actually. She was with a watercraft company." I had been told about an hour before. "I heard she went to Nashville with a guitar player who worked here. He sure could tickle the strings." Somethings aren't meant to be no matter how much want them.

When I pulled into Linden, it seemed a little more crowded than usual. It wasn't quite lunchtime yet, so I passed my usual eatery and swung around the courthouse toward the Food Giant. The surprising part wasn't that there were boats in the lot, one part looked like it was made for vehicles with a tow. It was the preponderance of not just bass boats, but new ones.

I walked into the lobby bar of the Commodore, which was termed a speakeasy, and found an empty seat at the bar. My oldest boy had picked it out. There was no apparent reason, he just pointed and said we should eat. It was his first derby, and I wasn't going to put a damper on any of it.

"Welcome to the Commodore, what can I get for you?"
"Mmmm... Jack, rocks. I'm headed that way. So why not?"
"You must be headed to Tim's Ford."
"Yeah, but how would you guess that?"
"Most of these guys are headed for Knoxville for the big one, but it's easy to spot a fisherman."
"Sure. But why come here? Staying on the interstate would save hours."
"Why are you taking the long route through Lynchburg?"
"No idea, really. Memories?" He smiled and went to pour for another patron.

I'd finished an excellent lunch, set the plate aside, and Oscar stepped back over. The swarthy barkeep had been there for as long as I could remember. He did not swap stories of any import, but was the epitome of the perfect listener. A trademark of an excellent bartender. We did discuss the Heartland Anglers and the tournament. It wasn't a big one, and those were my favorite. I said my son and I had won it a few years back, and just last March I taken home the lunker prize.

"Another, sir?"
"Well, I think I can have one more and navigate. John is already mad he isn't on the water."
"John?"
"I have a good friend in Clarksville. He's dragging the camper down, so we can stay a week at Devil's Step."
"101st?"
"Used to be. Retired like me. It's a chance to get away."
"Best of luck. You certainly have the craft for it!"
"Oh?"
"I saw you pull up, sir. Fine boat. This year?"
"Last, but I try and keep it looking nice."
"It shows."

He hummed a little advertising jingle, and as others chuckled and joined in, he said. "She marked 'em up 50%, you know."
It struck me. The new crafts weren't all brand new, weren't all the same model, but they were all the same company!
"Are we all members of some strange fraternity?" I asked quietly.
"In a way, I guess." Oscar replied. "My boat's out back, brother. Bought it 18 months ago."

(WC:1313)

I've seen the bright lights of Memphis
And the Commodore Hotel
And underneath a street lamp I met a Southern belle
Well she took me to the river, where she cast her spell
And in that Southern moonlight, she sang a song so well

If you'll be my dixie chicken, I'll be your Tennessee lamb
And we can walk together down in dixieland
Down in dixieland

Well we made all the hot spots. My money flowed like wine
Then that low down Southern whiskey began to fog my mind
And I don't remember church bells or the money I put down
On the white picket fence and boardwalk of the house at the edge of town
But boy do I remember the strain of her refrain
The nights we spent together, and the way she called my name

If you'll be my Dixie chicken, I'll be your Tennessee lamb
And we can walk together down in dixieland
Down in dixieland

Well it's been a year since she ran away
Yes that guitar player sure could play
She always liked to sing along
She's always handy with a song

Then one night in the lobby of the Commodore Hotel
I chanced to meet a bartender who said he knew her well
And as he handed me a drink he began to hum a song
And all the boys there, at the bar, began to sign along

If you'll be my dixie chicken, I'll be your Tennessee lamb
And we can walk together down in dixieland
Down in dixieland

Songwriters: George / Kibbee