Dan's Diary: June 7
What a day!
It started at about 3:30 a.m. as I set about getting to our first "Great American Vacation" giveaway location, Bass Pro Shops: Outdoor World, in Springfield, Mo.
Just about five hours later, Dave dropped the name and the crowd went wild.
Thanks to mom's humble letter, Jodi Oehlke, a workaholic DJ for 99 Hit FM and fledgling clothing designer scored a trip to Chicago and Egypt — while on the job no less!
After having met Jodi, I felt pretty good about her winning this trip. I needed a vacation just thinking about working as much as she does.
After the fun was over in Springfield, we took a short trip to the neighboring city of Branson, Mo. If you don't know about Branson, look it up. Imagine Las Vegas, retail shopping outlets, amusement parks. If the Ozarks had a child, that miracle baby would be named Branson, Mo.
This tiny town of 7,000 inhabitants sees 7 million visitors a year. No typo there, 7 million. Why? Branson calls itself, "The Live Music Show Capital of the World." It's hard to argue about that moniker with more than 40 theaters playing host to over 100 shows.
I was fortunate enough to get backstage at one of these theaters, The Andy Williams Moon River Theater, and meet two legends: Glen Campbell and Mr. Christmas himself, Andy Williams.
For you youngsters out there who might not know these names, ask your folks, or even your grand folks, and find out how important each of these men were and are to the world of music and entertainment.
Both men were unbelievably cordial and were thrilled to have The Early Show visit. From what I understand, Dave had an unforgettable sit-down with Mr. Williams. I, unfortunately, was deprived from witnessing this meeting as I had to guard the Winnebago with my life. Even still, just shaking Andy Williams' hand was enough to dizzy me with star-struck reverence for the rest of the day.
As surreal as Branson was, the one performer that I think clinched the deal was Yakov Smirnoff. I can't tell you how many restless nights I lay awake, tossing and turning, wondering, "What happened to Yakov Smirnoff?" Now the world knows he's in Branson, Mo., making the Ozarks laugh till they hurt. If I had met Yakov I might have died and gone to heaven.
Leaving Branson brought Dave and crew to another tourist draw, Lambert's Café: The Only Home of Throwed Rolls. If you visit Lambert's, you might be inclined to say, "thrown," but you'd be mistaken … and promptly pummeled with hot rolls. The waiters literally romp around this festive restaurant tossing piping-hot rolls clear across the dining area to demanding patrons. Dave got in on the action and did a fine job of holding on to a hot roll a little too long. If I can't get back to this place for lunch or dinner I might never forgive myself. The portions were comically massive, the place hummed like a plucked banjo string and the waiters and waitresses could have been the offspring of rodeo clowns and vaudevillian-era crowd barkers. You just can't find places like this in New York.
Thursday, I'll be heading towards Chattanooga, Tenn., hopefully to attend the Riverbend Festival. Apparently upwards of 100,000 people will be attending on Friday alone. I will be there and will more than likely be the only Yankee. I'll be practicing my accent ... dawg, tawk, cawfee, fuggedaboudit, yooz-guyz, etc.