For many, today is a national holiday.  To some, it’s a sacred holiday that signifies the best life has to offer and the promise of a happier tomorrow.  For the latter, they take the day off work and relax in their living rooms with a Mr. Show with Bob and David marathon and an assortment of snacks to rival Super Bowl Sunday.  For the casual observer of this holiday, the celebration will begin sometime after work and will involve a cold Mountain Dew and Doritos.  For all, however, the festivities will be relaxed.

Today is April 20.

While the holiday doesn’t have the same allure for me that it once did, I do still look back the fuzzy memories of past years and smile at the lack of recollection of those celebrations.  Some of my friends will remember the “Stuck in the Mud” dance, which was my personal April 20 favorite.  Others have experienced the loss of English language skills that marks an exceptionally well-celebrated holiday.  For some, the five hour search for the car keys and cell phone was the evening’s highlight.  Whatever the personal favorite fuzzy memory, this holiday is special to all who celebrate it.

For those of you who have no clue what I’m talking about, talk to your teenager.  More than likely, they do.

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There’s a “Rod Run” in Pigeon Forge this weekend.  There are two in the fall, and one of them attracts some very nice old cars.  I mean some high dollar, perfectly restored, vintage cars.  While there will be some nice cars this weekend, this particular one attracts a lower quality of collector.  Many of the POS Novas this weekend were just pulled out the junk yard, tuned up, spray painted blue or yellow r red, and called a hot rod.

Until you’ve delivered pizza in a Rod Run weekend, you can’t understand my absolute and utter disdain for them.  In general, the people are drunk, rude, inconsiderate, churlish, and cheap.  Every street, every parking lot, and every walkway will be clogged with these people.  It can take as long as an hour to move one mile, and even knowing the back ways around, you can lose two hours on one delivery.  Because service is so slow, most of the time you get stiffed, so the entire weekend becomes a repetition of sitting in traffic and not making any money.  I’ve never been so frustrated as I was working those weekends.  I survived eight total, and if I never have to work another, I can grow old a much happier man.

But I recognize that the Rod Runs are good for the local economy, in general, and I recognize that the people who attend the Rod Runs probably feel the same way about science fiction/fantasy conventions as I feel about sitting on the side of the street in a lawn chair, drinking beer, and watching cars roll by at one mile an hour.  It’s like NASCAR, only without any of the fun or excitement.

So this weekend, I’ll stay at home as much as possible and avoid Pigeon Forge like a toxic waste site, and if I do decide to order pizza, I’ll be sure to tip the driver double because I know the hell they are enduring.