Branson Day Four

We woke up to heavy rain that showed no signs of letting up anytime soon.  Discussion in the breakfast room at the hotel led to the conclusion that delaying our departure for Silver Dollar City would be prudent.  So an hour or two later than planned we boarded the bus and hoped for the best since it was still raining steadily. 

We detoured to Walmart to raid their supply of umbrellas and rain ponchos and left for the amusement park armed and ready for whatever Mother Nature decided to send our way.  When we exited the bus a short time later at Silver Dollar City, it looked fairly deserted except for our parade of umbrellas, looking like beautiful blooms all in a row. One lady remarked how cool that the umbrellas all matched.  I told her we had cleaned out Walmart, thereby dashing any illusion of planned poetry in motion.

I’ve been to Cedar Point more than once, back home in Ohio, so I figured this would probably be much the same.  I was wrong.  It was beautiful.  Built to resemble an old frontier town the park was situated on a hilly wooded spot and all the buildings were rustic and weathered.  The trees provided shade and a lovely backdrop for the souvenir shops, food booths, old-time photo stalls, and comedy and music shows.  We ate lunch at a quaint looking sandwich place and the food was good.

We hit southern gospel week so there were musicians and singers galore, holding their audiences with all the skill and enthusiasm they could muster.  Paul insisted he would not waste time on anyone using canned music so we bypassed more than one stage in his search for the real deal.  His persistence paid off.  He found a large indoor stage with a hawker out front calling out to passersby, encouraging them to come in.  The group High Road was about to start their show.  They had real instruments, a mandolin, a guitar, a keyboard, a violin, an upright bass, and three girls from Nashville.  They played with great skill and a style not unlike Alison Krauss.  Paul was thrilled and I was not unhappy, so it was a success.

The rain had pretty much let up so we boarded the little train that circled the park and were treated to one of the worst comedy routines I’ve ever seen, along the way.  It was so bad it was almost funny.  But not quite.  After that was over it was time for some ice-cream and a funnel cake.

Several of us were trying to find our way back to the bus and I vaguely remembered Anna Mae, our fearless tour guide, telling us that we would have to go through two gift shops to exit the park.  We successfully wended our way past all the stuff we didn’t need and resisted the rather weak urge to buy anything.  Finally exiting outside the last building we saw the bus a mere fifty feet away so we walked toward it, ready to get off our feet and relax for a bit.

I thought it rather odd that all those there ahead of us were waving enthusiastically in our direction, shouting something that wasn’t quite registering in my brain.  We kept walking and the waving picked up steam.  It was nice they were happy to see us but really, we hadn’t been apart long enough to justify such enthusiasm.  Then I realized the park employee standing in front of a near-by tram was also talking to us, telling us to “Stop!” and go back from whence we came.  “You can’t go this way!” he/she/it said sternly.  I suspect his/her/its name was Pat because telling which gender was giving us orders was impossible.  I looked at Pat in unbelief because the bus was now a mere twenty-five feet away with no traffic anywhere in sight.

“You could get hit by a car coming this way!” Pat said, answering my look of incredulity.

This seemed ridiculous to me and I heard myself saying, “But that would make things so much more exciting.”  I was doubtful that sarcasm was a language Pat spoke but the stern face dissolved into a laugh and that made it easier to follow the silly rules. If we were annoyed at having to retrace our steps for no good reason, I couldn't imagine how annoying it must be to be Pat, repeating the same instructions over and over. We were directed to the "correct" way to exit which involved returning from where we had just been, circling around barriers, following a painted crosswalk, and stopping traffic in two directions, to finally return back to the bus that had only been a few feet from us when we were brought to a halt and told the error of our ways.  I can’t even make this stuff up.

Not two minutes later, several more of our group arrived only to repeat the whole procedure we had just been through: stopped by Pat mere feet from the bus, redirected back around, stopping traffic at the crosswalk, and finally making it to the bus.  I decided whoever came up with that plan is surely now residing in Washington with a job high up the political ladder.  It did give us all something to laugh about though.  How dull would life be without the ridiculous to keep us entertained?

After a couple of hours back at the hotel, we left for our evening meal at the Grand Country Buffet, and grand it was.  The food was hot and good.  The hostess was welcoming.  And all went off without a hitch, at least until the cherry cobbler.

That cobbler was good. Warm and chewy and delicious.  I felt an ominous shift in my errant tooth so I quickly made certain to chew only on the other side of my mouth, something I’ve been trying to do ever since that pesky crown came loose a few days ago.  I continued to enjoy the cobbler and ice-cream, licking my lips and swallowing each delicious morsel.  Along with my stupid tooth.  I suddenly realized I had nothing left where it had been except a gaping crater. Feeling panicky, I felt all around inside my mouth with my still sticky tongue and I found nothing. NOTHING.  Except that gaping crater.

How is it possible to swallow a crown without ever feeling a thing??!!  After I got over my initial shock I was almost relieved.  I was so tired of worrying about it and now it was gone with nothing to be done except be thankful that it didn’t hurt and that it wasn’t a front tooth.  It will, however, cost a pretty penny when I finally get back to the dentist.  And I have had to put up with many suggestions I’ve received on retrieving it. And the answer is NO.

The evening’s entertainment was the Baldknobbers, a popular music and comedy show in the heart of Branson’s many tourist attractions.  It did not disappoint.  Really good music. Some equally good comedy.  Although the fun of watching some of the people from the bus laughing uncontrollably was more entertaining than the entertainment itself.  After the show, Shane, the main man on stage, got on the bus, thanked us for coming and generally made us feel special.

 It was almost 11:00 PM by the time we got back to the hotel.  I was still wired and not ready to sleep so I walked across the street to an ice-cream parlor that looked like a step back in time.  My two scoops were plenty for Paul and I both so I took it back to our room and we shared it on our balcony. 

What a fun day!