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50
september
october 201 3
Dear Knoxonomist,
I was wondering: would be possible for
Knoxville to ever host the Olympics? It
seems as if Knoxville would be awonderful
settingwith the Great SmokyMountains
nearby and all. Wouldn’Äôt that be cool?
Dreaming of Greatness
’ÄîFort Sanders
Dear Can’Äôt Remember 1982,
No.
I’Äômsure that your sentiments are shared by
more than a fewof this region’Äôs citizens’Äîbut
letme dissuade youof this notion. Imagine
aUniversity of Tennessee home game that
lasted an entire year’Äîreally three years,
considering construction and cleanup.And
can you comprehendhowutterly baffled the
international guestswould be in this area as
they attempt tonavigate? East is Center, Cen-
ter used to beWest andWest is in another city
altogether. Remember that to a Knoxvillian, a
crosswalk is awaste of paint’Äîjust like a sign
that says,’ÄúPlease don’Äôt ride the bears.’Äù
Whilewe’Äôre at it, let’Äôs think about the
whole package.The competitionwithother
lunatic city governments andwhat all they
might bewilling to do to gain this prize is the
municipal equivalent of PledgeNight.The
Knoxonomist is not concerned or impressed
with the number of goldfishHackensack is
willing to swallow.When these cities get it in
their collective heads that theywant tohost
theOlympics, they turn into game showcon-
testants, completewith costumes and jump-
ing about. Is that your vision for Knoxville?
Andwhatwould the officialmascot be’Äî
the chigger?
The Knoxonomist assures you that
despite whatever public relations image
enhancement you dreamwould be the
ultimate payoff for Knoxville hosting the
Olympic Games, the true takeaway will be
two women fist-fighting over their favorite
divers at theWaffle House. (And don’Äôt we
see enough of that already?) Despite your
best efforts, the inherent insecurity of
those that live in less glorious locations
about the country and the globe would
force them to focus on the less flattering,
’Äúgritty’Äù nature of East Tennessee. (And
don’Äôt we have enough of that from visiting
writers already?)
It is understandable that Our Town’Äôs
guests might feel the need to salve the
sense of inadequacy that comes from
knowing that perhaps their settlers had
settled for a great deal less than ours.
Anyway, if the whole ill-conceived plan
to get the Olympics worked, what would
happen? Knoxville would turn into some
smallish city that fancied itself interna-
tional, like a little Atlanta.Wouldn’Äôt that
be great? Host the world, and in return we
get to look like one of the Mandrell Sisters.
Not her, the other one. (And don’Äôt we have
enough of that already?)
laugh
Illustrations by
DANIEL PROCTOR
THE KNOXONOMIST
TheKnoxonomistwelcomesyourquestions’Äîalthoughhe
willansweronlythosethat interesthim. Sendyour inqui-
ries to
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includeyourname,address,anddaytimephonenumber.
TheKnoxonomistandhis secretaryarebusy,however,and
regret thatwecannotacknowledge receiptof e-mails.
Dear Knoxonomist,
What ever happened to baseball at the old
BillyMeyers Stadium? Even if we didn’Äôt go
to the games, we could always hear the
crowd and see the lights. It sure seems like
something is missing fromour fair old city.
Missing Something
’ÄîHalls
Dear Boiled Peanut,
The Knoxonomist is sympathetic tomost
matters of civic nostalgia. That being said,
BillyMeyers Stadium, as the Knoxonomist
recalls’Äîit never actually existed. Think of the
timewhen or if you ever, for some reason,
returned to your old elementary school. Did
it look theway you remembered? Or did
the restrooms seemas though theywere
made for hobbits?What happened? It’Äôs quite
simple: The school in your memory never
existed. The Knoxonomist did attend games
at BillyMeyers Stadiumas a young one and
later as an adult’Äîand the restrooms had
clearly been replacedwith ones that were
much smaller. Perhaps the city replaced
the restrooms when they installed the
entertainment tax’Äîthe Knoxonomist isn’Äôt
sure, but the two seem related.
But back towhat happened to the baseball
stadium. Round these parts, there is a tale of
aMayor namedOpiewho sat at the negotiat-
ing tablewith a baseball teamand some guy
fromTaffytown.The baseball teamcom-
municated tohisHonor theMayor that they
needed a better place to play or theywere
leaving.MayorOpie asked,’ÄúIs there any prop-
erty left to annex?’Äù The answerwas no’Äîsohe
built greenways. People just seemed to like
greenways, particularlywhen the alternative
is a creek bedfilledwith shopping carts. Don’Äôt
mistake the Knoxonomist: greenways are
good’Äîparticularly since every time you say
something bad about a greenway, the Lorax
gets roundworms.
All thewhile the guy fromTaffytownwas
courting the baseball team.’ÄúWe have spar-
klers and beef jerky outlets,’Äù he said.’ÄúWewill
build you a new stadium, and even let you
keepmore of themoney,’Äù the crafty old farm
trader went on.When just then theMayor
stood up (sort of) and said that he hadmade
his final offer and that all parties could take
it or leave it. The baseball team, puzzled,
asked,’ÄúWhat offer?’Äù Mayor Opie squinted
and hissed,’ÄúPrecisely.’Äù Having thoroughly
outsmarted himself and everyone else at the
table, theMayor shuffled out to his car, slid
the seat forward, and sped away.
So the baseball teamand the guy from
Taffytown struck a deal, and they are still
happy to this day. The teamhas a great new
facility, and the guy fromTaffytown sells lots
of sparklers and beef jerky.What became
of Mayor Opie?We heard hewas building
greenways in KrakowandWroclaw’Äîbut he
may be baaaaack.