Far away, in the mountains of North Carolina, high on a hill not far from the Blue Ridge Parkway, there exists a community of people that come together in the spirit of a desperate need for money. These poeple particapate in an ancient, it would seem almost scared, ritual of ripping people's money off. These people would be the owner's of "Tweetsie Railroad".
Don't get me wrong, I went as a child and absolutly LOVED it. I got to see "Indians" (I know it's Native American's if you don't know a persons tribe, or was the last time I checked) and Cowboys duke it out on a coal powered train and a ply wood fort, four sad, polyester clad saloon girls perform in the "dance hall", and I rode a farris wheel that looked like it was going to throw you off the side of the mountain. And you know what? Between the ages of 5 and 10 it was AWESOME! Somewhere after 12 I started noticing certain.............historical inaccuracies.
I'm not a history buff or particulary studious, but I did read enough "Dear America's" as a child to know that not everyone in the wildwest was between the ages of 19 and 22 (all workers at tweetsi are from the local college) and had nose and eyebrow piercings, that most "General Stores" probably didn't specialize in goverment cheese $8 nachos (they were $8 in the mid 90's, probabaly a couple hundred now), and small teddy bears beating plastic tribal drums. Along the way, other people seem to have also noticed, and Tweetsie has since been sued out of existance but still somehow runs May thru October.
As an adult I now live less than a 1/4 mile from Tweetsie. Which does nothing to hide it's multitude of flaws.
And since I'm so close now and it runs May thru October I hear the train whistle May thru October (25 runs a day starting at the 7:30 train inspection) and I play Russian Roulette with snotty suburnaites who fly around blind curves (doing 20 miles an hour over the speed limit, down a mountain ,that they ARE NOT FAMILIAR WITH) so that when I pull out of my drive way I have a 50/50 shot at dying (I either will or I won't die). (My favorite part is when they get mad at me and ride my butt whike flipping me off for half a mile, screaming obscinities with young kids in the car, because they had to slow down for half a second. Nothing like a wholesome day of family bonding! (you know I obviously have less reason to be upset since it's now gonna take you (5 seconds) longer to get home and get away from your kids and I only almost just DIED, you JERK)).
So to make this shorter and not go into a 500 word essay on how crappy they treat and pay their employees because everyone is so desperate for jobs (so desperate I was upset when the jobs filled up before I got my application in), I will conclude with a simple yet emphatic statement:
I HATE YOU TWEETSIE!
Don't get me wrong, I went as a child and absolutly LOVED it. I got to see "Indians" (I know it's Native American's if you don't know a persons tribe, or was the last time I checked) and Cowboys duke it out on a coal powered train and a ply wood fort, four sad, polyester clad saloon girls perform in the "dance hall", and I rode a farris wheel that looked like it was going to throw you off the side of the mountain. And you know what? Between the ages of 5 and 10 it was AWESOME! Somewhere after 12 I started noticing certain.............historical inaccuracies.
I'm not a history buff or particulary studious, but I did read enough "Dear America's" as a child to know that not everyone in the wildwest was between the ages of 19 and 22 (all workers at tweetsi are from the local college) and had nose and eyebrow piercings, that most "General Stores" probably didn't specialize in goverment cheese $8 nachos (they were $8 in the mid 90's, probabaly a couple hundred now), and small teddy bears beating plastic tribal drums. Along the way, other people seem to have also noticed, and Tweetsie has since been sued out of existance but still somehow runs May thru October.
As an adult I now live less than a 1/4 mile from Tweetsie. Which does nothing to hide it's multitude of flaws.
And since I'm so close now and it runs May thru October I hear the train whistle May thru October (25 runs a day starting at the 7:30 train inspection) and I play Russian Roulette with snotty suburnaites who fly around blind curves (doing 20 miles an hour over the speed limit, down a mountain ,that they ARE NOT FAMILIAR WITH) so that when I pull out of my drive way I have a 50/50 shot at dying (I either will or I won't die). (My favorite part is when they get mad at me and ride my butt whike flipping me off for half a mile, screaming obscinities with young kids in the car, because they had to slow down for half a second. Nothing like a wholesome day of family bonding! (you know I obviously have less reason to be upset since it's now gonna take you (5 seconds) longer to get home and get away from your kids and I only almost just DIED, you JERK)).
So to make this shorter and not go into a 500 word essay on how crappy they treat and pay their employees because everyone is so desperate for jobs (so desperate I was upset when the jobs filled up before I got my application in), I will conclude with a simple yet emphatic statement:
I HATE YOU TWEETSIE!
It was nice to read your post. I never heard of Tweetsie and your description almost got me there. At my place, school and college students engage in social activities in it they till lands clear off shrubs so that they pave way for some poor people living in colonies. But these activities are monitored so no such Tweetsie disaster occures ;)
ReplyDeleteI liked your blog. Greetings :)