Butterflies and Banjos
by Bobby Fisher
A southern road trip compliments of Food & Wine Magazine. Flew into Atlanta and rented a Passat. Moving toward mountains I grabbed some lunch at a gas station. Never do this. Lunch + gas station = Dr.Pepper, Slim Jim, and Chico stick. Searching for moonshine I experienced an incessant ringing in my ears, an outlaw hootch distiller assured me it wasn’t tinnitus, but thousands of Cicadas coming to life after 17 years of slumber. 17 years? dang, that there’s a whole lotta insect dreamin!’ The Blue Ridge Parkway wound with sunshine, green shade, tombstones and road kill. Rebel ghosts chewed barbecue and spat boiled peanuts. Asheville gave me Christian coffee and sweetbreads with Sriracha. I then followed the biggest moon I have ever seen to a log cabin deep in the woods of Fleetwood NC. Sipped whiskey with a drummer and Pinot with a confederate sommelier . Big Star’s ‘Big Black Car’ was the last thing I heard before that big orange moon crushed me to sleep.