Fond Memories of The Past

I got to thinking of the past this week. And in thinking of the past, I am actually thinking of the future, or the current day, or the...ummmmmm, actual past.
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Each time I begin thinking on this topic, it usually centers around one central theme: Silver Dollar City. For those in the know, I have spent a formidable amount of my life visiting the Ozark hills, even working there for a time. That place is probably what most would call a "guilty pleasure" and if you know me, you probably would think it would be the farthest thing that I would identify with. I wouldn't even go as far as calling it a guilty pleasure because I talk about it all the time. A guilty pleasure is something that you are supposed to keep hidden deep down from everyone, right? Like the fact that I think the T.V. show "Reba" is one of the best shows ever written and I can't get enough of it.
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Well, Silver Dollar City and the Ozark Mountains that are nestled around it, have been calling me lately. For some strange reason I got an email over at my Flickr page from someone who had seen some of my SDC photos on a chat forum. Wha-whaaaaa?!
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Turns out that many of my photos had been featured there (to which I was pretty flattered) and a lot of great discussion was going on about old attractions, shows and a general meeting of minds that shared the same country bumpkin kitsch addiction that I "secretly" harbor. I got to thinking more and more about the days when I worked in the City and realized what a great honor that was. If nothing more to be one of the few that these fans considered "lucky" to have fulfilled part of their lifelong dream of being a citizen of Silver Dollar City.
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As I look to the future, I keep seeing that the path that led me here to my current job and location, could be the very same path that leads me back to a new, greater calling. In efforts to re-connect with my roots, I have started a photo sharing and discussion group over at Flickr that will hopefully allow me to connect with those who also are ready to come out of the country closet. I hope you come and check it out and even join up. If you don't, no worries....no biggie. That's the way we look at things back up in the hills. I just hope I left bread crumbs so that I can follow them back to Missouri.
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The Silver Dollar City Photo Group on Flickr
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Silver Dollar City

Outhouse
Originally uploaded by skinnytie

My travels back to the Ozarks also brought me to one of my "happy places"....Silver Dollar City in the heart of the Ozark Mountains. Pull up a rocking chair and hear the cicadas here.

Presto! I had talent!

Freestyle spoon player, idiot savant, Golden Girls addict.....candy maker? I bet you all didn't know that once upon a time I was good for something other than being mistaken for Alan Cumming.
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Yes, once upon a time - a looooong time ago, I was a lobbyist for dentists everywhere. For four years I slaved over 310 degree kettles learning the craft of candy making under the tutelage of the legendary June Ward, Candy Craftsman emeritus, at Silver Dollar City in Branson, Missouri. Yes.... Branson... Missouri. I don't care who you think you are, Branson is either the best or worst thing about America; and even if you are part of the latter group, you can't help but realize the sheer geeky pleasure of rolling condo-less green hills, genuine smiles (mostly with teeth) and being able to ask for anything "fried" without anyone looking at you twice.
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Ah, yes. Branson was my nirvana. For a Gen-X'er (pow! welcome back worthless noun) raised on soft-core country PRON like Anne Murray and the Oak Ridge Boys, Branson was an undiscovered hot bed of pop culture fungi. Almost ashamedly during my summers there, I was befriended by the Lennon Sisters from the Lawrence Welk show, who not knowing better, entrusted their daughters to my care since (I dunno) I looked innocent enough and was probably the only person to ever visit the Welk theater under the age of 60, ended up hanging out with the second generation Osmond Brothers and saw Johnny Cash for free just about every night of the week since most kids my age at that time hadn't yet hopped on the alt-country express. Hell, who am I kidding... there were no kids my age hanging around Branson back then. I was country when country wasn't cool.
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Don't be fooled, I am not bragging that I used Branson as the playground for some of my coming of age sassy antics just because it has exploded as the new mecca of tacky tourism. I'm just saying that...well, I guess that's what I am saying. What I am bragging about is the fact that I got to know one of the most inspirational, fantastic and legendary women of the Ozark mountains. June Ward both scared the crap out of me and at the same time, single-handedly taught me everything I needed to know to survive in the wild, much less everything I needed to know to make one hell of a batch of brittle. Of course, I've since flew proverbial coop and pretty much forgotten how to whip up 64 pounds of Rocky Road fudge (sorry), not to mention the fact that I don't own a kitchen the size of a small airplane hanger. All that to say this: I found this really neat clip on the Silver Dollar City website of Aunt June practicing her craft which I have conveniently added below. If you find yourself in the Candy Factory, ask for June and tell her that it's just as she predicted, her damn nephew grew up to be as nutty as a batch of peanut brittle and just as sweet!
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The fruits of my labor
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Silver Dollar City Employees of the Year. The guy on the top left also won "most likely to be sick of candy within a year." Bow ties were so hot in 1893.

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• See a video of my Aunt June in action

• Silver Dollar City official website

• Silver Dollar City via my Flickr site from 2005 and!2006