Big Blue busted out of Charleston,
Weaving through mountainous valleys,
We stayed the course & didn't get lost,
Mush thanks to our trusty friend, Mr. Rand McNally

Nashville this and Nashville that
The country music capitol of the world was ours for the night,
We walked and walked and walked and walked,
But not a guitar was in sight.

Fueled by fat-free, slimy muffins,
We hit the road once more
Our stomachs waited anxiously,
To see what the hell we had signed up for.

When we crossed the bridge in Memphis,
A few started to get cynical,
For all around was flat, dry land,
But alas, we caught view of Pinnacle!

That Friday we faced her down,
About half way we started to get feeble,
But our energy was boosted again,
When Chris called us his "peoples"

Ferncliff was now our current address,
A place to call home
Fully equipped with canoes & ducks,
And plenty of open space for us to roam.

The first day of work finally came,
We all were pretty damn eager,
Less than an hour later,
Channing used a Pulaski on Kristen't middle finger.

We told them our name was Gold 4
The team formerly known as crap,
But they soon found out after a couple silly sessions,
That our real name is the Gold 4 Laugh Track

Battered, bruised and sweaty,
W would gather in the van,
Tick checks would convene,
And we would compare our daily tans.

Pick, pick, pick . . . all day long,
Pick, pick, pick, while I sing this song,
I'm gonna pick this ditch, gonna make it deep,
Fill it with a rock so it's not too steep.

Magellan, your fearless TL
Spent countless hours in the Big Blue Ford,
Getting lost, spewing out F-bombs,
And a couple of "Good Lord"'s!!

On Wednesdays we stayed at Ferncliff
Where some of us worked with Mitch,
One day Hillary was told to paint,
Where she later called David a son of a bitch.

Armed with our first aid kit,
Gold 4 would end a fallen hiker's strife,
Even though we all cringed,
When told of the little girl who pulled a knife.

Two times during our stay
We went a night without Ramen
To David and Vicky's did we go
To feast like we just came out of a famine.

The night of the Whopper,
A true sight was to see,
All the Gold 4 carnivores,
Running thru the doors of BK in glee.

We spent a day with "Friendly Frazier",
Pushing our limits was his speal,
Standing on the ledge & all that jazz
He inspired us with zeal.

We were told he was quiet,
Not to give him much a bother,
But Jim fooled us with his wit and Charm,
Becoming to many of us a second father.

Chris Kincaid,
The name says it all,
"man", "freak the big one", "good buddy" . . .
He'll forever bring back memories of Arkansas.