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America: Come For Ribs, Stay For Contrasts

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By STEVE OTTO

sotto@tampatrib.com

Published: October 29, 2008

We pulled out of Tampa for a long weekend trip to Lynchburg, Tenn., where I was a judge at the annual Jack Daniels Barbecue Championship (I know, but somebody has to do it).

My wife, being geographically challenged, suggested as long as we were in the area, why not drop off a few things for our son in Washington, D.C.? So we tacked on an extra two days, left right after she was through teaching and hit the road in a driving rain that followed us up to the outskirts of Atlanta,

One thing you notice early on is that the interstates are not as crowded as they were a year ago. Even as gas prices have come down, there are definitely fewer Americans on the road. The most notable no-shows are the great land yachts. Somewhere in this country millions of RVs are in mothballs, unless maybe their owners have converted them to homes.

On Saturday, the sun finally came out as did the crowds to Lynchburg for what is the Superbowl of barbecue, with champions from every state and 10 international teams.

America Owns Ribs

But even there it all seemed somehow muted. I sat down at a judging table with five other judges. Instead of the usual babble about ribs and brisket, it was more about struggling restaurants and foreclosures. The ribs were still great. Americans know their ribs. A team from Kansas called "4legs up" took the title.

After the judging we took off across Tennessee in the later afternoon. As it got darker and I started punching through the radio dial the frustration built up as I tried to find the Rays and the World Series. Outside of Knoxville I could find the Tennessee/Alabama football game on six separate stations and a car race on another. No ball game.

On the road again the next morning we drove into Virginia and up the great Shenandoah Valley on I-81. In the late October sun you would think all was perfect with the world as we drove by small farms surrounded by the oranges and reds of a southern autumn in the rolling hills.

It was Sunday afternoon as we passed Richmond and headed up I-95 into Washington. On a weekend afternoon there is no gas crisis in the nation's capital. Bumper to bumper going in and out of the city it was just a different feeling from driving through the rest of the South.

What Recession?

Maybe nobody's heard about the recession in Washington. Maybe the recession is only something that happens out in the fens and bogs of the country and not here where muckety-mucks don't have to worry about balancing budgets, cutting back on using the family car or going out to eat. We drove through Alexandria and into Georgetown and the streets were packed with the people crowding into boutiques and restaurants.

I did notice one thing. Back in Lynchburg it was obviously McCain country. Up and down the country roads it was only McCain-Palin signs. Even the lady bringing the ribs over to the judges table said, "I don't care which one you pick as long as you vote for McCain."

Washington was different. In our entire one day stay I saw Obama/Biden posters everywhere and not a single McCain sign. The lady at the Starbucks in Alexandria even had an Obama tattoo.

I have no idea if that means anything, unless you have been living in Tampa where you are used to neighborhood blocks having a mix of signs on the same streets and instead of political tattoos we have Rayhawks.

Keyword, Otto Graphs, to read and comment on Steve Otto's columns.

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