Branson: Day 1

So this whole Southern thing is getting pretty twisted. It’s my first day in Branson, MO, and it’s been quite an adventure already. Keep in mind that I’m with my Meme, my wonderful grandmother who’s decided to spoil me this week by spontaneously taking me to the city of her choosing. I guess she felt bad that my sisters and mom were off on crazy, awesome adventures while I was stuck in Marietta. But to tell you the truth, I was having fun back home. My friends have been invading my house and pool pretty often, which is just the way I like it. And I’ve come to acquire the habit of sleeping ‘til noon after Netflixing it up all night using my sister’s beautiful Mac. Needless to say, I was apprehensive in coming here. I had done my research (as all us Eubanks girls do oh so well) and came to the conclusion that Branson would be a bit like Gatlinburg. Dirty, touristy, kitschy (not in the good way), and everything I try to avoid while traveling. But hey Branson, you’re starting to prove me wrong. After hopping on a quick flight here (probably an hour and a half long at most), Meme and I took a taxi to the hotel, which is just fine. It’s a Best Western on “the Strip.” Well I wouldn’t really compare this to Vegas since there’s no gambling or prostitutes (so far), but I discovered (as of about half an hour ago) that the city does light up at night in a way reminiscent to Sin City. You go, Missouri. But anyways, we arrived at this tiny airport (a pigmy in comparison to Hartsfield-Jackson) that looked rustic and welcoming from the outside. Oh, and by the way, I spotted a superbly hot guy on my flight. Just one of the many reasons why I love to travel. He was blonde and had dimples and could definitely pass for a Hollister model. Yummy. Oh and we checked each other out (well, in my mind we did). Check itttt. So we stepped into the airport, and here we were. It was one big room with a Famous Daves, mini Bass Pro Shops, and it had a mountain lodge feel complete with hunting décor. Cool, a theme airport. So after figuring out that Branson was NOT like Atlanta in that cabs are constantly waiting outside anticipating your arrival, we found a desk to call us a cab. This man with a nice scruffy moustache and a weathered face took us into town. But on the way there, I was pleasantly surprised. The landscape was hilly and winding with carved rocks that reminded me of Nevada. You could see the beautifully green Ozark Mountains from every inch of the highway, and all I really wanted to do was watch what was around me. But of course we had an itinerary to make, lunch to search for, and our room to check into. So we stopped by the front desk, were (in my opinion) brushed off when asking for recommendations, and decided to go (literally) next door for a bite. So far we’ve had really good luck with meals. This steakhouse, Montana Mike’s, served us some mean alfredo. And since I am Caroline Eubanks’ sister, that means I am a tough critic concerning this specific dish. But seriously, it was good. And the sweet tea was just the right amount of sweet—a difficult feat when trying to impress a Georgia girl. So onwards we went to try to pack in everything we wanted to accomplish here. Here we struck gold. The woman at the gift shop here, Kathleen, is a saint. She’s a pro at multi-tasking, sorting out schedules, and encouraging the delightful opportunities available in her city. After 30 minutes of planning and $380 worth of ticket reservations, we were set. So hat’s off to Kathleen for making everything simply perfect. We couldn’t have done this without you. So onwards to our first event, Noah the Musical. It sounded okay to me. And that’s really how it turned out. The building, actually more like the acropolis, that was home to the show was unbelievable. Seriously. I would go there just to walk around and marvel at who the heck could have paid such a large bill for this thing. And the inside is even better. And inside the inside is even better. The stage is magnificent. Coming from an ex-theatre performer, that means something. The theater (more like a coliseum, sorry for the ancient Rome references) holds 3,000 people and even opens up on its sides to reveal an unbelievable set that takes you inside Noah’s ark. Simply mind-blowing. Now the show itself is just eh. The music was cheesy and mostly unnecessary. The acting was way overdone on the females’ part. The costumes were beautiful but quite unrealistic. But the set was orgasmic. Let me just tell you, I hate the word orgasmic. But that’s about the only way I can think of describing it. Please please please Google (or Bing, my preference) Noah the Musical right now. Look at the pictures. You see that stage? Great, well it’s even better than that. Not to mention the fact that the aroma of sugar-roasted nuts encompasses the entire lobby and makes me melt with selfish foodie desires. So yeah, I’d say it’s worth going. Especially if you’re not paying. That’s always a plus. Next, we went to lunch at some barbeque joint. I had a steak and toast and a salad and fries and it was delicious. I loved it. I even gave a shout-out to the cooks in the kitchen. I was feeling iffy about eating there because I hadn’t researched it or gotten personal recommendations about it or any of the stupid crap I usually go through to ensure a good meal. But really, go to Odee’s Restaurant and Barbeque and you’re tummy will be happy. Oh, btw, these two (handsome) brothers who have a show in town came in during dinner telling us to come to their show. I found it funny because I had looked at their website online and everything and then they just came in with their classy western wear on carrying pamphlets and coupons and sexy smiles. Woah, they must be desperate for people to come to their show. I would but I really don’t care enough to hear two guys who think they’re hot stuff singing covers of songs that are on the black list already for being classics that have been wayyyyy overdone. So no thanks, hot 30-something brothers. I think I’ll pass. The last event for the night was going a few miles out to Shepherd of the Hills outdoor theater drama show extravaganza. Never in my life have I met more embarrassing people. Where do they come from? Why do they yell and eat obscene amounts of food, just packing onto their already obese bellies? Why do they have tons of children just adding to the world’s population of unattractive? Ew, kill me. They were gross and smelly and sweaty and not funny. They made me embarrassed to be southern, which is one thing you never want to do. But anyways, the show was surprisingly good. Meme and I were thoroughly concerned as to what we were getting ourselves into when we showed up and saw these characters. But I decided to be upbeat and give it a chance, which (as it usually does) turned out well. The actors weren’t half bad and, with the exception of about two or three main characters, I enjoyed their abilities. The special affects were pretty cool with all the gunshots and fire and multitude of live animals. Hey PETA, why aren’t you busting the butts of the makers of these shows? Anywho, the show kept my attention, was in the middle of nature, had semi-attractive guys around my age riding horses, and actually kept a decent plot line. Bravo! That’s all I really wanted. And you succeeded. So go, Branson! Empress me! Exceed my devastatingly low standards for what your city can be! It’ll be a trip alright. You just wait and see.