#they getying ready for bed

[asktonyandshrignold]

hi! how are you guys doing?

Tony: If you must know we are fine! Why would you ask at 2:50 am?

Shrignold: Love thats only when WE answered their question, we are tired, yet getting ready for hopefully more asks in the morning and not pretty much 3 am

Tony: If paige hadn't dragged us into her things we would have been asleep by now!

[sohannabarberaesque]

Postcards from Snagglepuss: Feline Encounter of the Gatlinburg Kind

So there we were--yours truly, Crazy Claws and the quartet known as the Cattanooga Cats, as in Country, Kitty Jo, Groove and Scoots--in the latter's retreat looking down on Gatlinburg and the Great Smoky Mountains, accentuated by a polarised picture window to avoid the glare. Over ham biscuit sandwiches and Royal Crown Cola, even.

And leave it to Kitty Jo, the Cattanooga Cats' female vocal lead and dancer, to explain what led them to Gatlinburg as their retreat: "It just felt rather interesting to imagine ourselves having as a between-tours retreat nothing less than an otherwise campy-looking tourist trap as Gatlinburg. Especially when such was situated out of the way, the better so as not to be too obvious."

To which Country chimed in: "Especially so a certain Chessie the Autograph Hound. She's long been nothing but an annoyance for us, constantly demanding our autographs--"

"--And acting rather obnoxious on the side," Groove remarked, "As if she really wanted to tan our hide!"

(Prompting Crazy Claws to remark that such a fondness for rhyming to express one's sentiments "is almost as weird as imagining just how Wisconsin Dells can survive the winter without its waterpark resorts.")

During which Scoots, the dimunitive one of the Cats, went into a banjo-picking exercise ("Keeps my paws all the more limber," he remarked) as much as coming up with some absurdly wonderful story to relate in his role as the Resident Storyteller for the sake of their act. And when Crazy Claws remarked that he had seen the Cats a few times in Wisconsin Dells, the response among the Cattanooga Cats was sheer and stunned disbelief. Disbelief of the sort that was enough to prompt Kitty Jo to recall the time when Crazy Claws helped her pick up a decent leather vest to improve her looks in the act. And enough to send Kitty Jo to the hall closet wearing that very vest.

Meanwhile, yours truly explained that our presence was but part of a publicity run from Chicago down to Florida promoting Wisconsin Dells, as in passing out brochures for the Waterpark Capital--prompting Groove to remark "Who needs a waterslide when a motel swimming pool/Can be enough to drive us all so cool?!" (Guffaws of laughter all around. And prompting Crazy Claws to ask of Groove if he ever tried diving "cannonball," given his massive girth, which drew further laughs--and plenty of memories about motel swimming pools, good, bad and ugly, they've been to on tour.)

Which led Country to ask what drove Crazy Claws and I to such a quest as this, and this I replied: "The thrill of the open road. And a desire to help an old friend out." Which was cue enough for Teeny Tim--that's Kitty Jo's pet dog and dance partner--to demonstrate his amusing way with the keyboard as much as the old terpsichore. Kitty Jo remarked that such "came about as an idea on a whim to me; besides, his joining me in the dancing, while alright, was getiing hackneyed."

Which was enough to lead to a rather wonderful evening with the Cattanooga Cats along the Parkway in downtown Gatlinburg, encountering plenty of tourists and signing autographs--even on copies of the brochures we were passing out. And we avoided the NASCAR Cafe for supper, tacky as it was in concept, instead looking for someplace more "down home" in the cooking department for a little nightcap. Which, as it happened, was back at the Cattanooga Cats' retreat, only this time looking down on Gatlinburg in her nighttime splendor. Such was the cue for one of their legendary Midnight Biscuits-and-Gravy Breakfasts, which Country explained as "perhaps the best way we've came across some rather creative ideas for our act." Especially when you consider that the sausage gravy uses mild and hot breakfast sausage in the same gravy "to add some balance," as Scoots put it.

All definitely from scratch--and from old recipes from Kitty Jo's branch of the band ("My late mother was rather wonderful herself with the cooking, and taught me much in the process. It's almost like extracurricular activity, in a way") ... for which Scoots "added some spice" by relating in his own unqiue way when some close half-crazy cousins of his from "back in the holler" almost feuded like the Hatfields and McCoys over who made better biscuits and gravy, esepcially considering that the sausage was freshly made back during "butcherin' time" for the family hogs, as was still something of a commonplace. Hence, the older cousin decided to do a "taste off" of their rival recipes when the neighbours' "swapping work" came over to their place over "butcherin' time" ... and just trying to keep up with the demand was rather trying for the women folk. "But, long story short," Scoots concluded, "when all was said and done--it was a tossup between the two. It emerged that they had used the same basic sausage recipe from a University Extension Service pamphlet, and used much the same spices. In any case, the two cousins remained rather close, even swapping biscuits and gravy on occasion." Not to mention Kitty Jo and Country bringing out the photo albums and relating plenty of hilarious misadventures, plenty of stories involving their several tour buses they fondly called "Gashopper," even plenty of test poses for album cover concepts. And in the Gashopper Department, an especially hilarious story was about the time when they found a VW minibus which had been "stretched out" big time ... and in getting things organised in the midst of a major tour, when they were doing small-time auditoriums and "opry houses," they realised that the bunks were probably a little TOO comfortable. Or were they? But at least there wasn't double-bunking to contend with, and a decent little kitchen besides, where many a kettle of their legendary post-concert grits bar grits was cooked up.

Before long, it was time for bed. Crazy Claws and I got an exceptionally weird-looking bedroom as seemed straight out of Scooby-Doo, and in the sky blue and chartreuse so associated even! Not to mention futon mattress as felt somewhat comfortable--a little TOO comfortable for comfort, it seemed.... Well, anyway we all slept in until around 8, when Kitty Jo announced breakfast was ready: Her own very special grits, with choice of toppings galore. And boy, I must've eaten at least three bowls seasoned with cheese, bacon bits and salt-free seasoning ... and Crazy Claws had his fill of such to which he added shredded cheese and cracked black pepper.

And taking our leave of Gatlinburg--but not before a selfie with all the parties involved overlooking Gatlinburg and the Smokies, and also satin jackets emblazoned with the Cattanooga Cats' own logotype--and autographs, even!--we couldn't get over ourselves in such incredible company Hanna-Barberian of the highest order ... and decided to kill time on the Smokies Mountain Coaster (and NOT manage to get sick in the process)!