Okay. Moving right along. A funny thing happened the other day. Hubby and I were at Wal-mart, like together, at the same time, in the store, which almost never happens because we rarely go anywhere together. Anyway, we were inside the store talking to a friend who works there when this nice looking middle-aged couple walked up to us and asked where they could find the beer. The three of us stood there, stunned, and stared at these people for at least 30 seconds before someone blurted out, "There isn't any alcohol here. It's a dry county." Then it was the couple's turn to look stunned. They said they'd heard of such things, but didn't realize there were still places like that. We asked where they were from. They said they were on vacation, just passing through, and stopped in to get a few supplies. We told them to get on the freeway and head north, or south to Tennessee. When they got to Richmond, or Jellico, (depending on which direction they chose) then they could buy beer because it was wet from that point forward. It just struck me odd that someone asking a simple question like, "Where's the beer?" had the power to stop three grown people in their tracks.
On a related note... I've thought about changing the title of my blog to The Hoot From the Holler, but I doubt anyone who doesn't live here in the sticks where there are still dry counties and bootleggers would get it.