Welcome to part 2 of World of Ward Crap’s 13 WEEK series on filming junior dance competitions. Read about last week’s travesty adventure HERE.

Having survived a trip to the heart of Amish darkness last week, Bryan and I once again mounted our mini-van and headed to another dance competition in Nashville, TN—this one was at the Grand Ole Opry (or “The Grand AOL Opry” as my text messaging spell check kept insisting, giving me a possible glimpse into the not-so-distant future). To catch you up to speed, here’s what I’m involved in:

Terrifying, right? It’s weird how things work out. I first met Dan Raleigh (aka, Fred Price) when I worked for Wizard Magazine…my friend Junkstore Jesse Thompson and I picked his hilarious video Supercycle USSR as Wizard’s “Direct to Video” contest winner. We flew him out to Chicago to collect his prize, and Dan and I immediately learned we shared the same love for things like the Beastmaster and stuffing large plants into hotel elevators. Now, years later, he’s kind of my boss. Check out his winning Wizard video. I should mention that Josh Powers (seen below) is also my boss, which is AWESOME. Do you have a cooler boss than this? I don’t know, has your boss ever stolen a Russian super bike? There’s something else familiar about these two videos…listen closely.

Yep, after you hear the narrator from Supercycle, it’s hard to take the dance commercial seriously ever again. Hooray, Easter Eggs!

Now, on to Nashville…..Click through to hear about the Dukes of Hazzard museum bathroom incident, which country music stars are dicks, and why Tupac and milk go together so well…

This image is probably the single greatest reason Nashville’s Dukes of Hazzard Museum is free of admission. I’m not sure what I’m looking at here, but I am sure I don’t like it. I’ll confess we didn’t even want to go the Dukes of Hazzard museum, but we both had to take massive shits and when you see a sign from the road that says “COOTER’S PLACE,” by law you have to pull over.

Shown: “Heh. It’s slang for ‘vagina,’ get it? Let’s print 10,000 of those bad boys.”

Someone spent hours and hours cross-stitching the Dukes of Hazzard theme song for this exhibit. If this doesn’t strike you as depressing, then you must be the kind of person itching to make a hook-and-latch rug of Robert Pattison’s face.

Shown: “Does your Confederate Flag lose it’s flavor on the bedpost overnight?” A healthy child’s bedroom, circa 1983. Conspicuously absent from the museum were Coy and Vance, and these assholes.

After we wrecked Cooter’s bathroom, we stole matching jackets and got out of there (Upon seeing the restroom devastation, Boss Hog threw his hat at the ground soooooo hard). I have to admit, the toilet flushing noise at the Dukes’ museum bathroom was pretty interesting. As was the disgusting alternative to Irish Springs by the sink.

Our next stop was the Willie Nelson museum. For half a minute or so, I considered paying $5 to see the pool table from Red Headed Stranger or whatever. But having already interviewed Willie Nelson, I figured that was souvenir enough. Also, they wouldn’t sell us this giant-ass photo of, what appears to be, a vintage ad for Willie Nelson’s Stardust Memories Shampoo.

They also had plenty of this, which we’re just going to smile at, ignore and pretend we didn’t see. When in Rome, you know?

This terrifying, paint-by-numbers visage greets each visitor upon their entrance. It’s not without its charm, so I had something similar painted up for the Chris Ward museum entrance as well.

Our quest to find the Grand Ole Opry was a little like Pee Wee’s quest for the Alamo’s basement. You see the REAL Grand Ole Opry isn’t where the New Old Opry is. The Old Grand Old Opry is now called the Ryman Auditorium. And guess what was waiting for us when we got there? A couple of locked doors and this propped up in the corner of the building.

Shown: My heart going boom, boom, boom! Grab your things, I’ve come to take you home!

So, yes… I rescued this book from the Grand Ole Opry: “The Secret Life of Peter Gabriel.” Part of me wants to believe there’s an organization that distributes these like Jack Chick tracts around the city. The back cover promises insights into “the threat of ruin over the WOMAD festival he championed.” OOOO! JUICY! Also, “A broken marriage and the therapy that followed.” OH, DO GO ON!

Bryan and I set up shop underneath a large portrait of Minnie Pearl, who I always loved growing up because she reminded me of my Grandmother (my grandmother also wore large hats with affixed price tags, which seemed eccentric and cute when I was a child until I learned she was a serial hat shoplifter wanted at nine “Lids” outlets in the greater Iowa area). During the entirety of the show, I was only called “incompetent” once (but never “impotent,” which is a victory in my book) by a deranged Dance Dad, and I also learned that Southern Dance Moms are one of three things: crazy, hot or crazy hot.

Shown: “Your Google search for ‘Southern Dance Moms’ returned 1 result.”

I also chatted up an usher and Johnny Cash look-a-like who has been at the Opry for quite a while. He told me a semi-uncomfortable story about Charley Pride, and confided in me that Kenny Rogers and Roy Clark are dicks in real life. We really hit it off and talked about life, love and music for 45 minutes. The next morning, he wouldn’t let me bring my coffee into the Opry, even though I was part of the crew. “No Outside Drinks,” he told me, sternly pointing at a sign. I have a feeling that, somewhere, Kenny Rogers is telling a story about some dick usher he met in Nashville who made him throw away his ginger pop.

It’s high-time I gave a shout out to a store called HAPPY JAPAN, that I encountered in the middle of nowhere on the way to my first-ever Piggly Wiggly. They have a really great online store that has Sushi Stuffed Animals and Black Black gum. Go check ‘em out! And guess where you can’t buy Black Black Gum? Piggly Wiggly. Nice segue, right? But Ho-Lee Shit you can find a whole lot more...at just one store! I have ALWAYS wanted to go to a Piggly Wiggly. Did you know there’s a Piggly Wiggly on top of a mountain in Tennessee, and it’s the only place in the state you can find Mr. Pibb? Believe it. The place is  7-8 aisles of goddamned shopping magic.

Shown: Your government and a cartoon pig in unholy legion together.

Unfortunately, the one thing I was looking for wasn’t at the Piggly Wiggly, but rather at a gas station in Kentucky. Now, to me, this is a bit overpriced: Any truck driver at a Lion’s Den Adult Bookstore down the interstate would give me the same thing for free.

Of course the absolute best part of the whole journey was staying with Junkstore Jesse and his wonderful wife, who even let Bryan stay even though they don’t know his horrible, horrible secret.

Besides, where else do you get to see this first thing in the morning?…

Shown: Strictly 4 My C.O.M.P.L.E.T.E Breakfast

…Or spend time with the legendary Dick Towel?!?!?!?

Shown: Actual sizes.

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YA’LL COME BACK NOW FOR NEXT WEEK’S JOURNEY INTO ST. LOUIS, MO!

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