Girl Trip

In the dead of winter, I always find comfort in a little trip or two. It's not unlike Narnia, where it seems like it's always winter and never Christmas. And then there's all that Turkish Delight, which raises my blood sugar too much and I can't quit eating. Our anniversary is in February, a nice respite from the dread of cold wetness, but my daughter intervened with the idea of a girls' trip before I could work up something for Pa and me. 

We decided on a long weekend in Chattanooga. About fourty years ago, I went to college up near there, when Chatty was a smoky, grimy industrial town. The only thing interesting at the time was the Choo Choo, where our basketball team would congregate for fried chicken and a night out. Liz and I hoofed it on up there, since it's only a couple hours away from Atlanta. 

What we found was an intriguing, ambitious place full of energy and possibilities. Chattanooga looks like a giant bowl, rimmed with mountains and beautiful lights. In the day it is bustling and laced with a thousand ribbons of street. At night it sparkles with a billion twinkling stars on the mountains and in the valleys. We drove through old neighborhoods filled with hobbit-like homes that had been recently updated, gulped back our fear as we looked down harrowing mountainside roads, and explored rabbit trails that ended in lovely waterfalls and rockslides. Down in the valley, cute hipsters and their trendy coffeehouses drew outsiders by the carload. I couldn't help but think about the ghosts of the mountain folk that must be watching and shaking their heads. I only heard a few familiar twangs of guitars and banjoes as we toured the place. 

The aquarium there is wonderful, with lots of delightful fish and fauna to admire. The otters were so cute, I could have watched them all day. I remember the first time I took my children to that aquarium, way back when it first opened. There was a gigantic tank with Tennessee river fish, replete with the biggest catfish I had ever seen. I grew up near Allatoona Lake, where all my life I heard about the "catfish as big as men" that prowled near the dam. I never believed it, until we went to the Tennessee Aquarium and I saw half a dozen catfish as big as a man, maybe bigger. The next time we went to the aquarium, the catfish were much smaller. I asked a docent about it and she said that they release them back into the river, after they get real big. I ain't puttin' my toe in any river in the South, ever again. Ever.

Liz and I enjoyed people watching, probably more than anything else we did. We had a nice cruise in the riverboat, our trip to the aquarium, lots of yummy food. We sat on the side of the river, soaking in the sun and making up stories about the people who passed around us. The next day, we sat in a snack shop window and thought up scenarios and shared opinions about the couples and fashions that ambled by. We laughed and suspended our busy lives for a couple of days, eating stuff we shouldn't and luxuriating just a little too long every morning in our pajamas. What a nice thing, to wake up one day and realize that your daughter is not just your daughter anymore. She's the best kind of girlfriend you could possibly have.