LIFE IS A MATTER OF INCHES

Life is a matter of inches.

Tennessee - 3 am on country road somewhere between Gatlinburg and Knoxville. It is very dark - no stars or moon - the weather for the past week has been overcast and chilly -- with intermittent rain. Actually not bad for late November but it is the middle of the night. The reason I used the term "somewhere", was I was lost.  Having made this trip numerous times and not quite awake - I made a wrong turn or failed to turn somewhere.

So being a modern American Male - I stop at the first sign of life or what ever is open. That "What Ever" was one of those run down all niters convenient stores that scream - you are not welcome. You're not welcome - especially at three in the morning.

We - meaning I am traveling with our companies Marketing Director.  We are scheduled for a 6 or 6: 30 flight out of Knoxville to New York City - to go home.  We work and live in the New York City area - I on Long Island and our Marketing Director in Manhattan. We had just spent the past week in Gatlinburg, Tennessee doing business and now it was time to go home and we anxious to get home - hence the early flight.

This sets the stage for the coming events: except I left off the year, which was 2008. The importance of the year is to show - this is not 30 years ago!!!!

We both get out to stretch our legs - even though the trip is only 40 miles between Gatlinburg & Knoxville - who knows where we are and how far we have driven off course. I tease our Marketing Director - I think we are in Kentucky - these are Kentucky looking trees. If that is the case - lets drive to Cincinnati, you can take a plane from Cincy and I can visit relatives for a few days.  The Marketing Director grumbles there is no such thing as Kentucky trees -- oh sure there are I respond. He responds you are not funny, especially this early in the morning and I hope this dive has coffee - even though I am not sure we should drink anything from this horrible looking place. Oh -- be quiet I say - You fashionista Manhattanites with your Starbucks coffee - I am sure this is great country coffee. I only hope they do not serve pancakes - I am sick of pancakes -- my fashionista Manhattan Marketing director laughs.  Finally I am breaking through.  He is used to my non stop chatter - so traveling together on business trips - does not bother him any more - like he had an option anyway.

This place is a dump by poor country standards. I have seen poverty - both my parents were from Appalachia from the poorest county in USA according to Bill Clinton's trip through Pockets of Poverty travels and speech's.  Wonderful speaker and everyone was so excited and here we are with Obama our new President and still nothing has changed for the Appalachian people. I say those - because like many Appalachians after WW11 - my parents left for a better life. First to Detroit where I was born and finally Cincinnati.

So I had a window into poverty from visiting family and friends still living in Appalachia. I understand good Appalachian people and those who are bad.  This convenient store had the look of bad!!!  Having grown up around violence from an early age - I can actually smell it - feel it in every cell of my body. This place was bad -- right out of a Steven King Novel. But I just needed a quick idea if we were headed in the right direction, and then off we go.  Quick in and quick out - no harm.  The place was empty of anyone but the store attendant.

The store was lit by those types of lights that are sickly yellow neon in color you usually find on run down strip bars or massage parlors.  The inside of this place was worse then the outside -- this place could not pass a health inspector so somebody is paying off some one.  I go up to the counter to the very heavy lady and ask for directions - she responded in I do not know what you call it.  I understand the Appalachian Southern slang and draw on words from my parents. I received countless hours of enjoyment making fun of my parent's speech pattern growing up - say Garage, say Washington - Dad -- and then I laughed and laughed. I was a horrible kid and son - but hell - anything for a laugh.

But this lady could not communicate. I realized it was a waste of time - but felt from our limited conveyance of communication - we were not that far off our track.

We both thought better of the coffee and headed back to our car. As we opened the door to leave - up pulls a car loaded with young men. The car some type of dark large late model caddy with the music blaring.  Four doors open up and four drunken dudes in their late 20's or early thirties.  These are not your college type boys drunk on the weekend. I would bet that three out of the four of them never finished high school and two of them beat their wife's on a regular bases. They looked like a tough group who life expectancy would be only into their 50's.

I sensed danger - desolate location, out numbered and on their turf. Best thing to do is getting out quickly and not draw attention. Do not look them in the eye - you then invite them in or excite them.  Look preoccupied, harmless and focused on what is in front of you.  Do not draw their attention.

Then it hit me - my companion on this trip - the Marketing Director is GAY.  This was a danger - if these boys sensed that -- we have a new game, a potentially dangerous game.  The Marketing Director is not openly gay - having been raised in Indiana. But after years of living in Manhattan he might not be as guarded as needed here.  I only hoped the Marketing Director sensed the danger, because it was too late for me to whisper it to him my concerns. The Marketing Director dressed like a fashionista but not flamboyant - latest styles, tasteful but not backcountry wears. The Marketing Director was thin - clean cut, immaculately dressed at all times.  Not effeminate but compared to these boys who knows. He would definitely stand out as out sider from these guys. I on the other hand was the age of their fathers - who probably beat them as children in drunken rages that they now are emulating in their young adult hood. I am not dressed in the newest looks and less conspicuous. I was not one of them - but do not stand out. I am the guy who has one pair of dress shoes and one pair of gym shoes - called sneakers in New York. I wear them till the shoelaces break and then it is time to think about new shoes. The marketing director has probably 20 pairs of dress shoes and equal amount of gym shoes. I buy a shirt in Macy's he buys his shirts from a designer shop in Soho.

I grew up around violence and have experienced violence from my earliest memory. I believed that experience enables me and people with like experience to sense the danger of violence. Unlike mother's fears for her child, or ordinary persons paranoia, you know that the danger is real. People who have lived it for long periods of their lives - understand the potential and the circumstances where it can happen.

There was real danger here and these boys were more then willing to deliver it. All four of these good ole boys starred at our Marketing Director. I immediately looked for something to pick up and use as a weapon. For me a metal bar would be the perfect weapon.  Unlike movies or TV - acts of violence are quick, very violent, very dangerous, deadly and over quickly.

I see a long thin stick  - which might work. I move toward it as the Marketing Director speaks to me. I scream in my brain do not speak -- shut up and get in the car. I do not respond - just move toward our car. I am on the opposite side of the car from them -- they do not see the heavy wood stick in my hand. I have already picked out the fellow who looks the most dangerous and decided to hit him across his face with my wooded stick if he attacks.  It is to affect the most damage as possible - because head wounds bleed dramatically. The only chance we have is that stuns them and we can make an escape.

They have stopped and are staring at us - mostly at the Marketing Director. One of them, the one closes to us, is starring at me -- he notices my stick in my hand and he knows I will fight. So now it is up them if they want to continue. I have left an impression on them -- that if they want to beat us as outsiders, or as different or they may sense the Marketing Director as a possible gay. But they also know if they attack I will fight and there will be a price to pay.  I do not know if they sense it - but I have settled into the fact if they attack I will attempt to hit the first attacker across the head and if it kills him - it kills him.  It is an acceptance of all real violence where if I die I die and I accept this.  This quality is very unsetterling to a normal person.  I learned very early in my life - everyone will leave you alone if they think you are a little crazy.  I am certainly a little crazy.

We open the car doors to our rental car and the Marketing Director gets in on his side of the car - closes it to our potential danger. I get in slower and while not looking directly at them - I am watching them closely.  I put the heavy large wooded stick in first and quickly but calmly get behind the wheel of the car.   They can all see my stick now and it is obvious it is a weapon; I knew the fellow closet to our Marketing Director had seen it, but now the other three see it.

My insides are churning - now would be the most dangerous time and we are the most vulnerable. You have to have a mindset - and that mindset is violence.

They continue to stare and I turn the car on and the doors lock -- we are out of danger. If they jump on the car - I will run them over and use the car like a weapon - it is a rental and I will use it to kill all of them.  I pull away and they turn toward the convenience store.  I drive away and the Marketing Director says - they looked dangerous - they scared me to death, why did they stop and stare at us like that.  Did you think we were in danger and why do you have this big stick in the car?  I just looked at him and smiled. I replied: I am happy you did not say much.  The Marketing Director Replied - are you kidding me - they were scary.  I replied - lets go home.