Schedule Of Events - Tennessee: Fill & Download for Free

In early 2006 - maybe March or April - in Crossville, TN.My Dad was considering retiring from his police department and contemplating a few different options in life. One thing I and even he has always wanted was to own our own bar. As much as I might like to own a humongous fancy place like Dave & Busters or Hooters etc. - a small place would do, provided it was the right place in the right place at the right time etc. My Dad was also considering taking a new job with the FBI, actually a few different jobs, and one of the jobs would have allowed him to select the area of the country he wanted to work in / relocate to.Somehow, a confluence of events caused us to be travelling to Crossville, TN to look at a bar he found for sale on a real estate website. I think that the address of the bar was technically different than Crossville, but that was the town we’d be moving to and we’d be visiting and staying in (and presumably drawing customers from…) I have always liked Tennessee, (never having been there , lol) but, what the fuck is Crossville?! Apparently like 70 miles away from Knoxville (and University of Tennessee) - so I guess there’s that, at least, and my Dad keeps going on about how it’s going to be The Next Big Thing in small towns! It’s “The Golf Capital Of Tennessee!!!” — oh fucking great, neither one of us has ever played so much as a single game of golf in our lives. And neither of us has any interest in playing one.But, he’s adamant that it could be a good deal, the owner really wanted to sell the place and it would be a possibility we could swing and just take the plunge etc.So we drive our asses down there, and we got down very late on a Thursday night. At this point, the bar was apparently a Beer Bar - they only served beers because that’s the license they had, but the real estate woman assured my Dad that we could easily get a full wine & spirits license if we bought the place and wanted to … the prior owner just wasn’t that into it. Also, at this point, the place was only open on weekends, so Friday, Saturday and Sundays. So when we’re driving into town at zero-dark-thirty Thursday Night/Friday Morning, it wasn’t opened. But the first creepy part is, let’s say it’s on a long-ass country road considered a Highway (I think) - as we’re driving down the road, say it’s 10 miles away … every couple hundred feet, there’s a Church … then another Church … then another Church … stuff I ain’t never even heard of - and I am proud to be Catholic and Christian and while I haven’t been to Church in quite a while, I am very supportive of it and all that- but I mean, we’re talking about Church of Christ, then Church of Christ The Redeemer, then Church of God, then Church of One-Kind-of-Baptists, followed by Church of -Another-Kind-of-Baptists, then we have Assemblies of God, then God Assemblies, Chapel of Christianity, Building of Blessings, Building of Baptism, there are so many Churches in the same place, how many people even live here?! How different can all their beliefs actually be?! Anyway, we finally get to where the bar is, and as advertised, it’s closed. Unremarkably completely from the outside. So… shall we turn around, go find the local Holiday Inn, and get some hotel rooms??Next morning, my Dad had a scheduled “phone interview” with one of the FBI peoples to surmise their mutual interest in each other and decide whether to proceed further. So , he’d need a good hour on the phone, so I grabbed the keys and went exploring. I started out by looking for a nice little convenience store to grab a cup of coffee and some nicotine ( Back then I both smoked cigarettes and chewed the occasional dip-tobacco … but I never did it in front of my Dad … well that’s probably a little bit of a lie. I *never* smoked cigarettes in front of him but once in a while would chew in front of him. So, I had decided I needed to get some dip because it would fuel me with some nicotine discreetly and I wouldn’t be stanking like Camel Special Lights around him.) - I find a suitable gas station with attached store, park our *awesome*, quite-new Doge Ram HD 2500 Cummins Turbo Diesel and carry my cocky ass into the store.So as I walk in, there is a guy very looking like my Dad’s age (50–60ish), thick moustache, country-looking, and he’s chatting with a customer that he’s clearly friendly with (as the customer was standing sort of near the back of the counter) - and I set out to find coffee, perhaps some sodas and snacks, etc. After listening for 30 seconds or so, don’t you know that the two people are not only discussing buying and selling real estate and prices of local stuff, they are *literally* talking about local bars and restaurants and their relative merits and prices and good scenes/good foods/etc. and stuff like that. Perfect!I have always been pretty open and friendly. If I am lost, I roll down the window and ask for directions. People have *always* helped me. I am pretty short, 5′8″, and always have looked very young for my age. Maybe it’s just that I don’t look very threatening or ferocious. Even now, I’m about to hit 40, and certainly am getting old and busted, but I’ve always been open and friendly and treated like I’m younger than I am.So maybe it was that. These guys just decided I was a teenaged Yankee punkass. (I was like 25 or so) But as soon as I walked up, I could see that they didn’t like what they saw. I have no idea why - I was wearing quite normal, conservative clothing and again, am polite and respectful etc. (it’s not like i was wearing baggy jeans, Timberlands, a Jersey, and 3-quarter-turned-backwards-hat…. “Aiyyo manz, where the fuck’s the coffee, son??”) - But I put the coffee cup and Diet Coke bottle (for my Dad) down and say something along the lines of, “Hi Gentlemen .. I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation and you were talking about real estate, specifically local bars and restaurants that are for sale … It just so happens that’s why I’m visiting this TN and this town … “They reply in unison , “Uhhh huhh….” with scowls on their faces. Why??So, I try again … “Maybe you can help me out with a little info… What can you tell me about the Specific Bar We Were Going To Look At ?”The customer laughs out loud, and the worker/manager/owner/cashier guy goes, in his thickest Southern drawl, “You don’t wanna be going in there…”Is that right?“Purty rough place … they won’t like you….”Oh yeah? Now I am just a little bit - dare I say the word- ‘offended’ - by their disrespectful faces, words, and tones of voice, but not the least-bit intimidated.Is that right? Because I have an appointment with the Real Estate agent to see about buying the place later today … hmm..Customer again says, “You don’t wanna go in there … they won’t like ya…”Ok then.Cashier then says, and I’ll always remember how something that was intended to be a direct threat and intimidation to me actually made me laugh out loud and think, Wrong thing to say to me, sucker… “And if ya’ll IS stupid enough to go in there, ya better be packin!”Thanks.Customer blurts out, “and you know what he means by packin, right son? He means you’d better have a gun!”I give them my best serious face … “I see.. thank you … I need a gun in order to walk in a bar - in the USA- to have a burger and beer with my Dad and see if we want to buy the place that the owner is desperate to sell and the Real Estate agent is looking forward to our lunch meeting there … Thank you for the advice…. but ….as we speak, my Dad, a Capital-City Police commander and Patrol Bureau commander, is on the phone with with the FBI , going through a phone interview to see if he wants to take charge of a new Office they’re creating in this area of Tennessee … I’ll make sure I relay your advice to him and the Real Estate agent, thank you very much! If this area is really that bad, it probably would not be a smart idea to invest our finances in such lawlessness and economic strife. But that would explain why the Federal Government is increasing their law enforcement presence in Central Tennessee! I will pass on your information!”They both are in stunned silence, but with very not-happy-faces on, but do not say another word.“What do I owe you for the coffee and soda? Oh yeah, let me have a tin of Copenhagen Long Cut please.”While still silent but seething that I was nonplussed by their intimidation and one-upped them with my own ‘backup’ , he reaches back, grabs a tin of Copenhagen, basically tosses it towards my coffee up and soda, still hasn’t said another word, punches up the stuff in the register, STILL hasn’t said anything - just stares at me. So I see, whatever the cost was, let’s say it was $7.50 … I hand him a $10, he snatches it, gets me my change, dumps it in my hands while staring at me, and now I can’t help but smile.“Thanks very much for all your help and advice, very much appreciated, I am so glad we decided to consider moving to Crossville and I got to meet some local residents and business people!”“Oh, right, before I go, gimme $20 at the Diesel pump, my new truck’s Cummins is thirsty too.”<not our truck, just the best I could find quickly>Dude snatches the $20, and as I pull my truck over to the Diesel pump, I see Homer and Gomer staring intently at my every move. I smile and wave just to piss them off a little more.The bar ended up being pretty much a dump - in order to attract enough new business to make it worth buying, we’d have to probably spend double what we’d pay buying in order to spruce it up, and it just didn’t have that factor of, “Wow, THIS is what we want to own!” - So we were shortly back on the highway, headed through the Mountains of Tennessee back home. Thoroughly wasted trip.Just makes me laugh … I have no doubt that there are both tough TOWNS and tough bars across the USA. And I’m sure there are Biker Bars or Gang-controlled restaurant etc. that won’t take any mess etc. But when cashiers are trying to threaten people at 10oclock on a Friday morning that they aren’t allowed to walk into a bar (that they’re considering BUYING!) without a gun, I have to laugh.Actually, years later, we considered buying a sizeable bunch of land and building a house in TN but because of the ‘bad taste in the Copenhagen’ from my previous experience, we passed. Very happy even Souther. And every time I walk into a bar or restaurant, they seem happy to see me. So motherfuck you, Crossville, eat your heart out!

Some people in Tennessee are racist, some aren't. In general, the major cities tend to be more diverse, and more liberal, than the small communities and rural areas. Nashville, where I live, has a particularly large number of first generation immigrants, with 1 out of 6 residents born outside the USA. When white supremacists held a rally in Shelbyville, TN, in 2017, more than twice their number of counter-protestors showed up, and the white supremacists canceled a scheduled event in Nashville later that day.

Maybe. Remote Area Medical organizes mass clinics in Tennessee, first come first served, on some weekends. That might be a place to start. Unfortunately, there aren't any clinics planned until February 2016. Here's the schedule:Knoxville, TNFebruary 6, 2016 @ 6:00 am - February 7, 2016 @ 2:00 pmBuena Vista, VAMarch 5, 2016 @ 6:00 am - March 6, 2016 @ 2:00 pmRhea County, TNMarch 12, 2016 @ 6:00 am - March 13, 2016 @ 2:00 pmCookeville, TNApril 2, 2016 @ 6:00 am - April 3, 2016 @ 2:00 pmMadisonville, TNApril 23, 2016 @ 6:00 am - April 24, 2016 @ 2:00 pmView All EventFind more information at Affiliates - Remote Area Medical. Good luck.