Just another Drive-by Truckers song

"I'm never goin' back to buttholeville."
Patterson Hood



While waiting to see the second night of a two night run of Gov't Mule shows, my posse and I were perusing the streets of Cincinnati for a decent eatery to quench our hunger that had been growing ever since around the outskirts of Louisville as we had reached I-71. I am going to start off by mentioning how bitterly cold it was (only to be made worse by the wind-tunnel effect of the large buildings) as we walked up and down West 5th Street. I had spotted a Brazilian steak house as we had driven up which I thought might have worthy of checking out, but as we walked up to it we realized it was much to ritzy for us lowly hippies to eat at, then out of the corner of my eye I spotted/smelled what could possibly have been heaven incarnate. What we happened to stumbleupon (no, it's not a typo...google it and let your mind be blown) was Cincy's own Rock Bottom Brewery and Grill. Bill, Billy, Wayne, and I all thought our hunger saviour had been found. We walked through the revolving doors only to find ourselves among huddled masses attempting to shelter themselves and loved ones from the cold. We humbly walked up to the hostess table and patiently waited for an elderly couple to place their names on the waiting list for a table in the crowded eatery. As we approached the kind lady who appeared to be beyond stressed, I was rudely interrupted by the shoulder (which came to my waist) of what I can guess was a 3-5 year old child, followed by another 3-5 year old child, followed by another 3-5 year old child, followed by a lady in her mid-30's pushing a stroller letting everyone in her path know that she was "coming through!"

I was raised as a child to be polite to everyone, no matter what situation has befallen you at the time. I know to hold the door for anyone, not just the poor old ladies. I know to say sir and ma'am to anyone I assume to be older than me that I don't already know as a friend. And I definitely know to say excuse me if someone is obstructing my path as I'm trying to move. I may be stereotyping but this lady and her husband looked that they could have easily made six to seven figure salaries. They also looked like they had enough common sense in them to have the common courtesy to say excuse me when moving past me. This concerns me not only because it was a nuisance to me at the time but it is something I am seeing more and more often throughout the youth (sometimes adults as well) of America. People are only worried about themselves and capitalizing on the downfalls of others.

The point of this post was not to pigeonhole the citizens of Cincinnati as "buttholes" or the town itself as "buttholeville", I was only hoping to point out that people need to look back on their lives and open their eyes to the people around them. A simple "excuse me" would have put me in a much better mood for the wait before the show (Mule covered that up in a hurry, but that's another story for another time).