We made it to St. Louis in one piece, more or less.

Our water pump is in need of some therapy. It rained nearly the entire way here and our front window leaks. The floor is sagging. These are just a few of the joys of being on the road in a trailer over 40 years old. All of it is repairable, of course. It will just take some time and attention.

Some familiar faces from the pirate festival last year will not be here for the Renaissance Faire, much to our disappointment. We’re confused about this since two of the acts in particular are huge draws and very popular with the hometown crowd. We can only hope it was a mutual parting and not a drawn out confrontational split. We hope for visits from them but realize we’re idealists in this way.

I suppose the best way to update this very neglected blog is to share a little of our trip and the roadside attractions and experiences contained therein. They are what makes life on the road worth every mile.

As we left our home state of Virginia I recalled a place we’d seen featured on Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives located in West Virginia and did a search to find out how far off our route they were. Answer: 7 miles. The decision to stop was unanimous.

The original location of Hillbilly Hot Dogs is located 7 miles north of Interstate 64 from exit 18 in Lesage, West Virginia. You can’t miss it. It looks for all the world like some child experts in the blanket-fort construction business got hold of some school buses and built a grab joint. It is colorful, wildly cheerful and fantastically welcoming. There are affectionate cats roaming the grounds and the front door is actually a little challenging to locate amongst the collected antiques and objects-d’art. Inside the décor is supplemented with signatures of patrons absolutely cramming the walls, tables, chairs and any other readily available surface outside the kitchen. There is an 8-track player next to the VCR. The first thing you hear after the music is the staff bidding you a warm welcome from the kitchen, and owners Sonny (The Weenie Man) and Sharie (The Weenie Wife) are right there with them.

The menu contains hot dogs and hamburgers served with everything you can imagine. Some of them are actually larger than your head. All the traditional sides are offered and for dessert, along with traditional root beer floats and ice cream sundaes, there is homemade cake courtesy of Sharie’s sister.

I ordered the Taco Dog. Alex ordered the ½ pound Big Bubba Burger, to much fanfare in the kitchen. A side of fries and some drinks rounded out our meal nicely. While we feasted we talked with Sonny and Sharie, telling them a bit about what we did and where we were headed. In return they gave us a real education on hot dogs, their newer franchises and business practices, and the best example of customer service I’ve experienced in years. Sonny also introduced us to the foundation ingredient in one of their signature offerings, the Homewrecker. I had never seen a 15-inch long 1 pound all-beef hot dog up close …

I’ll pause while you compose yourselves …

… but it was impressive to say the very least. When fully dressed, the Homewrecker weighs in at approximately 3 ½ pounds and anyone finishing it in under 12 minutes wins a prize. I think they said they’d had one winner in recent memory.

We wanted to stay longer but needed to keep moving to reach St. Louis in time to find a good camping spot. Sonny and Sharie, if you’re reading this, we sincerely thank you for a fabulously great time. We’ll be back to see you on our trip home in June and I’ll be trying that Junkyard Dog on for size. Maybe we’ll have The Weenie Song ready to perform too. Who knows? You’re great folks and we’re really glad to know you! See you down the road!

The place was unassuming and comfortable in its surroundings in the suburbs just slightly outside of Atlanta. Two turns off the highway got us there an hour before it opened. We found ample parking in the lot of the community center next door and cued up some podcasts to pass the time as we contemplated what the interior of the place might look like. When 11am finally arrived we locked up and walked the half block to stand in front of an establishment the size of a small pre-fab house.

Abdullah the Butcher’s House of Ribs and Chinese Food: You’ve got to love the name and the way it makes your pericardium and associated arteries tremble in masochistic anticipation. Alex had decided on the BBQ. I was taking on the Chinese food end of things. Stepping across a veranda that I can only imagine packed with BBQ and wrestling fans on weekends during the summers we walked into a homely dinning area that looked like that of any other strip mall Chinese food purveyor, but this promptly where the similarity ended.

A second room adjacent to the left of the first was outfitted for a more drawn out dining experience, with beautifully upholstered booths and chairs and hardwood tables that gleamed in the scant sunlight coming in through the front windows. It looked like an inviting and comfortable place to be for a planned experience of rich and succulent food, but it was the walls of the first room that really held our interest.

Nearly floor to ceiling were 8 x 10 inch picture frames containing promotional and candid shots alike of professional wrestlers, most of whom today’s fans would barely recall, let alone recognize. Some were signed, many were of the same individuals and some contained newspaper clippings relevant to the images. There were faces I hadn’t seen since I was just 12 years old, watching an obscure channel high on the dial with questionable reception. I’ll admit that I was nearly as confused as my parents at the time as to what my fascination with this not quite genuine yet very real form of entertainment.

Now, after over five years of making a living swallowing swords, eating fire, walking on long blades and broken glass, performing as a persona that is all me, but only partly, I can say with a deep understanding that I get it now. I really, really do.

I found myself awash in nostalgia and longing, palpably missing those Saturday afternoons of entertainment, when kayfabe was a respected and cherished methodology effective enough to create an entirely separate world that was jealously guarded by those within it. These days disappeared rapidly in the 1990s realm of televised wrestling, with gratuitous and extreme violence overriding storytelling, and what remained of the story becoming tabloid level pornography. The small independent promotions, however, putting up shows in gymnasiums and rec centers across the country on a monthly and sometimes weekly basis, still remember and hold tightly to the richness of kayfabe, even as it evolves and adapts to the times we live in. I know that the sideshow traditions I hold fast to in my heart and mind are akin to this, though wrestling has become an entity in its own right, far from the midways of old, with sideshow just as far away but on a different fork in the road.

My stomach rumbled to remind me that while mental jackpots were all well and good, it was lunchtime and there was food at hand. Alex ordered the half chicken platter with mac & cheese and black-eyed peas. I put in for the Almond Chicken. We took a seat just across from the kitchen at a table where two gentlemen were already seated and talking.

It is always a pleasure to find out that food bearing an expectation lives up to said expectation. The BBQ sauce was succulent and not too sweet, not to vinegar in flavor. The Almond Chicken was packed with fresh green vegetables and tender pieces of meat. The sides were generous, well-prepared in traditional Southern fashion, as was the sweet tea. It was a wonderful way to spend lunchtime. What put our experience at an even higher level was the company that happenstance provided us. When we got through general pleasantries and introductions we had learned that the older gentleman was the father-in-law of the younger, had grown up five houses away from Muhammad Ali and his family and was a Grand Master Mason in the Prince Hall Lodge. He told us remarkable stories of the military during the era of segregation and of his experiences as a young man in the minority of our population. When it came time for us to speak of what we were all about I felt very humbled and slightly sheepish, but I’ve learned that people who aren’t living my life tend to find it interesting as they hear about it so I forged ahead with some stories of my own, Alex right with me with some more killer jackpots.

By the time lunch had ended the four of us were no longer strangers and we were all genuinely sorry to see our time together draw to a close. I credit Abdullah the Butcher’s House of Ribs and Chinese Food for having the audacity to bring together good food and good people in humble yet absolutely fascinating circumstances and I genuinely believe this sort of thing occurs regularly there. We’ll be visiting again when able, taking the time to look about us as we have become accustomed to doing in so many of the unique places we tend to find ourselves.

Gentlemen, we hope you enjoyed your second helping of BBQ in the evening and we want you to know we thoroughly enjoyed making your acquaintance. Our best to you both and we look forward to seeing you down the road.

Our best to The Butcher as well. Thank you for the safe haven on our travels. We’ll be back to see you again soon.

Abdullah the Butcher’s House of Ribs and Chinese Food
2387 Fairburn Road SW
Atlanta, GA 30331
404.629.2332

Hours:

M – Th: 11am – 9pm; F & Sa: 11am – 10pm

It has been a wonderful few days back home thus far.

Thanksgiving was warm and yummy and full of fellowship with friends and family. Alex made a mock apple pie and Celt’s daughter made her signature hummus with her signature kitchen tools. It was a wonderful day and evening. Very mellow, very relaxed, stress-free the way all holidays have the potential to be, really.

The days following the holiday found us catching us with others. Friends, co-workers, performers, all wonderful people we hadn’t seen in quite some time. We made it to the Palace and also to Clyde’s where we met with Shortstaxx and Bambi Galore to first talk business and then eat oysters. Ladies, it is always a pleasure. More oysters and chattiness down the line? I hope so!

Brian, the bartender that evening, would visit my bar at the Palace on his off nights and I began going to Clyde’s to see him on mine earlier in the year. It was great to catch up. He joined us again two nights hence, along with James and Sprocket, to try out Dr. Granville Moore’s, the new Belgian place on H Street. Turns out the chef is a great friend of his and he called ahead for us all. We not only had a delicious meal spread out for us but some brilliantly prepared snails which were served to us with the chef’s compliments.

I managed to run into James Marlowe in our travels and I stopped in to meet with him this past Friday at the tattoo shop he runs with Anna. For those interested I will be tattooing at Marlowe Ink on December 5th, 6th, 7th, 12th and 13th from 1pm until 9pm each day. Looks as though I may have found a safe tattooing haven for the times I’m off the road and back at home. Thank you James and Anna for being awesome in all the ways that you are and for giving me the opportunity to return to other sorts of work that I love.

Met a friend’s outrageously beautiful baby daughter in the process of meeting with him about UNIX applications and other geeky things, as well as picking up a significant pile of some of the several hundred pounds of chocolate his wife quite cleverly bargained for from the local Lindt outlet earlier in the season.

Yes. You read that right. Several HUNDRED pounds. I took home maybe five of those pounds and am sharing the wealth accordingly.

There are press kits and marketing materials spread out all over the upstairs right now. Celt is being very patient, navigating through it all on crutches (thank you!). I completed enough training in iMovie and iDVD to produce a trailer of our show and it is being sent out to potential clients even as I type. I am glad of other things to occupy my time because I must tell you that iDVD is FUN. I could lose days, weeks to this insidiously charming little program.

Speaking of occupying time, it is back to work with me. Kits need to be assembled, sewing needs to be done and websites need attention. SERIOUS attention.

Of course somewhere amid all of this I will find time to do some baking … It is the holiday season after all.

Cheers!

Great shows. Enthusiastic audiences. Good footage for promotional use. Great dinner with friends (thanks Mike & Lisa!).

And after all is said and done, an amazing ultra-smooth martini courtesy of Alex, who very sweetly praised my four-show energy level even as I was suffering from a wrenched muscle in my lower back.

All in a day’s work.

We owe a huge debt of gratitude for the hospitality and care of a way cool lady whom Alex has known for many years. She opened her land and her home to us, allowed us to completely commandeer her kitchen to prepare a Halloween meal of nearly a dozen different items and lay a fire for us all afterward which burned long into the night and kept us very warm.

Thank you, thank you for making such a wonderful night even more wonderful through your enthusiasm, skills and love. We will not forget and we hope to be back to see you very, very soon.