![\"Saturn](\"http:\/\/www.biguglymandoll.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2011\/09\/rocket.jpg\" "\\"Saturn")
<\/a>Saturn V Rocket Standing Tall<\/p><\/div>\n
The town was called Rocket City USA back in its heyday, and the people here remember that.\u00a0 They helped put man on the moon, testing the Apollo systems and building the Saturn series of rockets \u2013 driving down the highway from the airport, this goes from noticeable to inescapable when you pass a Saturn V rocket standing sentinel by the road.\u00a0 It\u2019s an enormous monument to the engineering history of a world, a nation, and this town in particular.\u00a0 Reflected in the people I met was an underlying sense that they\u2019d been part of something greater than themselves once, and they\u2019d like to do it again \u2013 with a quiet reserved understanding that lightning does not tend to hit in the same place twice.\u00a0 Not that nothing\u2019s happening there now, but you have the sense that it\u2019s a town standing capable and ready, hoping to be called back into action if the US ever gets its space program back in high gear.\u00a0<\/p>\n
They also tend to be more liberal in outlook than I confess I expected; I find the drive-through condom store to be a case in point.\u00a0 I nearly drove through myself, just to check the going rate, but SOBUMD and I have been married so long that I can\u2019t remember which elbow the condom goes on.\u00a0 Besides, I was saving my money for pig.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I wore that Dreamland tee-shirt while flying back to Huntsville this time, and I had no fewer than eight people comment on it \u2013 and the Hat, of course, but for a change the Hat took second billing.\u00a0 Many told me that I needed to go to the original Dreamland, which is in Tuscaloosa.\u00a0 That being a bit of a hike from Huntsville, the other place I was told to try \u2013 by several folks \u2013 was Big Bob Gibson\u2019s, across the water in Decatur, Alabama.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Sunday night, however, was Wintzell\u2019s Oyster House<\/a>, which was recommended by dint of it being walking distance from my hotel, plus the front desk gave me a coupon.\u00a0 I dined under the watchful eye and tender care of the delightful and helpful Becca, who told me that despite being an Oyster joint, they had a fantastic Ribeye.\u00a0 Since I can get a fantastic Ribeye lotsa places, up to and including my house, I stuck with the seafood \u2013 fried alligator, fried whitefish, fried crab claws, fried hushpuppies, fried shrimp, fried crab, and oh yeah, oysters.\u00a0 Fried.\u00a0 The beer was very good, a local IPA, and the seafood gumbo (which was not, in fact, fried) was one of the best I\u2019ve ever had.\u00a0 Also in the category of \u2018best I\u2019ve ever had\u2019 were the green beans \u2013 you simply cannot get green beans cooked like that in the Northern climate, probably because we lack the bacon of our convictions.<\/p>\n Becca also told me that I had to go to Thomas Pit if I wanted really<\/strong> good pig \u2013 and when was the last time your check from your waitress included directions to another restaurant?\u00a0 She used to live behind Thomas Pit and grew up with the smell.\u00a0 I made a note of it, thanked her, and made my slow way to my hotel, 60 feet away.\u00a0 By the time I got back to the room, I was pretty fried myself.\u00a0 \u00a0<\/p>\n Bathroom Attendant at Greenbrier Restaurant<\/p><\/div>\n On Monday for lunch, on the advice of Good Jim Coleman, I found \u2013 in the fullness of time, after driving right past it twice \u2013 the Old Greenbrier Restaurant<\/a>, which boasts a bathroom attendant, great sweet potatoes, and wi-fi.\u00a0 There\u2019s a big sign as you walk in:\u00a0 \u201cTry our Sweet Potaters and Wi-Fi!\u201d\u00a0 It does sound like a hell of a combo meal, but as we know, I came for the pig.\u00a0 The nice young lady who waved me in set a large basket of fried hushpuppies on the table by way of saying hello; this could have been a meal by itself, and I mean for a family of four.\u00a0 Their pulled pig plate \u2013 and I will have you know that I ordered a \u201csmall\u201d \u2013 came out with a baked sweet potato the size of my fist (I never did get around to trying the wi-fi), a side of passable cole slaw, and nearly a pound of pig.\u00a0 They have their own vinegar-based hot sauce; the good news was that it was delightful.\u00a0 The less good news is that the pig needed it \u2013 the flavor was excellent and well smoked, but it was dry enough that the sauce was a blessing.\u00a0 I have to guess that the pig is probably less dry on a Saturday night.\u00a0<\/p>\n Mom's Place<\/p><\/div>\n Leaving Greenbrier I realized that there are, in fact, quite a lot of choices in dining out here – I drove past Mom’s Place, which (unlike in the DC area) doesn’t stand for anything, except insomuch as I’m sure Mom’s stands for a decent lunch and won’t stand for anything less.\u00a0 If there had been less than a pound of pig on my recent plate, I might have stopped out of curiosity.<\/p>\n Dreamland, Sitting At the Rail of Goodness<\/p><\/div>\n Monday\u2019s dinner and Tuesday\u2019s lunch were both at Dreamland<\/a>, and yes, it\u2019s that good.\u00a0 \u00a0We sat in front of the rail \u2013 that would be the rail that separates the diners from the fire over which your dinner is cooking, or had been cooking for the previous 8 or 12 hours.\u00a0 \u00a0We got to watch one of the pit men throwing hickory logs the size of my leg on the fire.\u00a0 This is living!\u00a0<\/p>\n Tuesday dinner was Big Bob Gibson\u2019s in Decatur<\/a>.\u00a0 It turns out they don’t focus on ambiance, atmosphere, anything but pig. It was good pig, with sauce that went from good to great to fantastic with the white, bbq, and vinegar sauce, in that order. \u00a0The ribs were falling of the bone and completely off the hook \u2013 they win for ribs, hands down.\u00a0<\/p>\n But.\u00a0<\/p>\n At Dreamland, the motto is \u201cAin\u2019t Nothin\u2019 Like \u2018Em Nowhere\u201d \u2013 and they mean it.\u00a0 They have decor,\u00a0including a road sign hung in the men’s room\u00a0stating “No Dumping Allowed.”\u00a0 \u00a0The Greenbrier restaurant seems to have a motto on the order of \u201cwe\u2019re as surprised as you are\u201d \u2013 which makes some sense, considering the signs in the place have signs on them, most mentioning that these were the original signs put up when the place opened in 1952.\u00a0 Plus, you know, they have a bathroom attendant.\u00a0<\/p>\n Big Bob Gibson\u2019s might have a motto.\u00a0 If so, I suspect that it says \u201cBig Bob Gibson\u2019s wins BBQ awards.\u201d\u00a0 The closest thing to a cute sign in the men\u2019s room was a pamphlet on the urinal stating that I was special to someone, and urging me to consider letting Christ in to my heart.\u00a0 Since my heart was not what I was holding at the time, I left the pamphlet there.\u00a0<\/p>\n They have no beer, no pictures, and no TV \u2013 not that that last one is a loss, but it did confirm that going elsewhere for dinner and Monday Night Football for the boss the night before had been a really<\/strong> good idea.\u00a0 I finally put my somewhat greasy, sticky finger on what was lacking:\u00a0 They had no sense of humor.\u00a0 There was no banter, there were no smiles.\u00a0 It could have been a soul food joint, but it lacked soul.\u00a0 The food really is that good, but you have to be able to smile.\u00a0 I won\u2019t be back.\u00a0<\/p>\n Since there was no laughter, on the way back we made our own, starting with what I’m reliably told is an old and famous furniture store, regrettably named Badcock. \u00a0You have to assume that’s a family name – what exactly do you name your sons there?\u00a0\u00a0\u201cReally\u201d?\u00a0\u00a0\u201cGotta\u201d? \u00a0 This lasted until we passed \u201cCumming\u2019s Aeronauticals,\u201d whereupon the remainder of the ride devolved into riffs concerning marriage between these two noble houses \u2013 \u201cMrs. Sawyer Badcock-Cumming, from Afar, AL\u201d being the culmination of about 12 minutes and 8 miles worth of effort.\u00a0<\/p>\n There being only one way to clear away the gutter of our minds at this point, we stepped into the bar at the hotel to quench our prodigious thirsts and listen to bad Karaoke being sung badly by people who might once have known better, but for whom, by now, all hope had fled, taking with it their dignity, honor, and sense of pitch.\u00a0 Since I walked in with none of those things to start with, I was glad to leave before finding Katy Perry\u2019s Last Friday Night on the list.\u00a0 SOBUMD, when hearing of this, remarked that \u201cat least it would have been short.\u201d\u00a0 When asked to clarify, she confessed she meant my career, had I sung that \u2013 or anything else \u2013 for my boss and co-workers.\u00a0\u00a0 Ah, fame is such a fleeting, fickle bitch\u2026<\/p>\n Wednesday meetings were early and reasonably quick, and I decided to venture out before finding the airport.\u00a0 Having no particular destination, and being on my own recognizance, I started out toward the historic part of downtown Huntsville.\u00a0 I\u2019d been driving all of 8 minutes when a white utility van with some kind of company logo passed me on my right.\u00a0 I stayed behind him for a few minutes before my brain kicked in and read the name, which was \u201cSmokey\u2019s B-B-Q\u201d over a pair of crossed burning logs.\u00a0 \u201cCall us for catering!\u201d\u00a0 Mind you, this was just after noon local time.<\/p>\n Like my close personal friend Dirk Gently, I do not always arrive at my originally intended destination, but I find I usually end up where I need to be.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cSelf,\u201d said I, \u201cFollow that van!\u201d\u00a0 I decided he was probably driving back from dropping off someone\u2019s yummy porcine lunch, and even if he was on the way to drop said lunch off, he had to drive back sometime \u2013 and besides, he had Alabama plates.\u00a0 It couldn\u2019t be that far, right?<\/p>\n It wasn\u2019t that far, but he stopped in front of a Restaurant Supply Store.\u00a0 When he got out, I explained that I was an itinerant migratory lifeform with a tropism for pulled pork, and he gave me a brochure and apologized for not having any with him so he could give me a sample.\u00a0 He also gave me directions, and I was right \u2013 Smokey\u2019s is local, for reasonable definitions of local.\u00a0 The directions sounded somewhat familiar, and in a moment got to the words, \u201cYou\u2019ll see Thomas Pit on the left, and we\u2019re about three blocks past that.\u201d<\/p>\n Clearly, this was a sign, further oracular intervention from the Road Gods \u2013 two people in the food business mentioning Thomas Pit.\u00a0 The quest was on!\u00a0 I drove, first, to Smokey\u2019s \u2013 as on any quest, certain rules and niceties must be followed, conventions adhered to, if one is to win though to one\u2019s prize.\u00a0<\/p>\n Smokey's Takes Umbridge at Being Called Hapless<\/p><\/div>\n<\/a><\/a><\/a><\/a>