On the Road Again:

Thelma & Louise Tackle High Point

DAY TWO: CEMETERY TO LONDON VIA ROUTE 127

    After a drive through town, (Paul Endris for Sheriff posters every where), a foray into the rolling woods to find Sarah’s father’s farm and a teary-eyed visit with a neighbor, we made it to Mt. Olive Cemetery.

     Immediately I knew the Boo Bag was a mistake. The cemetery was so beautiful, so serene and so nicely decorated that we did not need levity or cheap sight gags. The photo ops were the fellow gravestones, all brightly trimmed with plastic flowers and angels and wreaths. Sarah’s family plot was done up with purple tulips. The stones went back three generations to family members born during the War Between the States (as we were taught to say in my Southern childhood).

    A light rain was falling, mist hung in the humid air; we let the dog run free among the tombstones.  He liked the Simmerman family and settled into wet grass there to contemplate life, death and Indiana.

    As the rain grew more moist, we decided against additional bulbs; we were both satisfied that Mom was at peace. I clearly heard her thank Sarah for stopping by and told her to drive carefully as she sent us on our way. We took pictures and left with a full heart, happy we had come and remembering that so many of the things we dread in life turn out to be the worse for the dreading than the reality.

      From there we scooted back down the highway to the stop we had been dreaming of all day: a visit to Applacres, the local farm stand in Sarah’s hometown. We were missing the Persimmon Festival  in nearby Mitchell, Indiana by a week, but Applacres is the perfect farm stand—with bins of apples and free popcorn samples and rows of products and a sufficient supply of apple cider products—including apple cider slushies. WE had no trouble loading up our market cart with a sack of fresh green apples, a jug of apple cider, another jug of apple-cherry cider, several jars of home made pumpkin butter, apple butter, blackberry jam, taffy, toffee and toffee apples. We bought cheeses, spices, mooned over the cake sheets (to order, Applacres, Inc. 812/279-9721) and talked about childhood memories of apple orchards, pumpkin patches and strawberry fields forever.

    Then we hit the road, by-passing Louisville and taking Route 64 East until we got to Route 127, then headed south.

     I only recently learned about Route 127, a 400 mile stretch of rural road that reaches from Danville, Kentucky into Alabama and is said to be lined with 4,000 antiques and junk dealers. At a given date in August, there is a flea market so large that drivers are asked to not pull up onto the grass of private homes and shoppers knock on doors of total strangers’ homes to seek shelter for the night.

     There was only one problem with the scenario for us. We couldn’t find any dealers. Possibly there were 4,000 churches. There were not two dealers. We got lost and twisted about with poorly marked roads. We learned that He is Coming. We ate at Kentucky Fried Chicken – seemed fitting enough in Kentucky--and bought gas for $2.17 a gallon.  We took pictures of very big trucks. We bought our Powerball ticket. We did not find any antiques.

    Checking the magazine cutting that had been our inspiration for this leg of the trip, we were able to verify that we were indeed in the right neck of the woods. The article said the shopping began at Danville and just kept going. We did too, but the vendors did not.

       The drive was not without its pleasures—after seven years of living in France, I delighted in the American pronunciation of French-named towns in Indiana. I liked seeing country stores and feed stores and barns and silos and a covered bridge off yonder in the distance. I wanted to stop at the day-glo lime road signs with a pictogram of a horse and buggy, a warning to drivers that this was Amish country and to beware of buggies to take photos.

     One shop we passed even had a buggy out front. “Buckboards!” I shouted to Sarah.

    “Starbucks?” she said, “Did we pass a Starbucks?”

     After five frustrating hours, we looked at each other, shrugged and suggested we search for the shortest route to US 75, a multi-lane highway that would take us south more quickly, south toward Knoxville and the 21rst century.  We would be one day ahead of the schedule, but figured that High Point, North Carolina would indeed be the high point of the trip, so an extra day there would be welcome.

     As we sped toward Knoxville, we came upon London, Kentucky—a lovely strip of off- ramp no man’s land  populated by every major chain of hotel, motel, fast food and retail store you can imagine.  Day Two was a Monday; we had to be in place for our favorite Monday night television shows—and I do not mean Monday Night Football.  Making the pressure even more real—we did not know if we were in Central or Eastern time zones, since the map indicated we were close to the time line. Could we trust the time posted on our cell phones? Could we risk missing Wife Swap?

     The Holiday Inn Express said they accepted small dogs, had a room with two queen sized beds for $88  (if I had AAA or AARP membership cards) or a Jacuzzi suite for $159. Since we weren’t on our honeymoon, I voted for the standard room. Breakfast was included; there was a $15 charge for Toffee.

     Say goodnight, Gracie.

DAY THREE: London to Hickory

    We had no real plan as we drove into Tennessee and onward toward North Carolina. Except maybe to find out what time it was. We were a day ahead of ourselves. We were busy enjoying the Cumberland Gap and the pre-Smokies, busy calling ourselves Thelma and Louise with a happy ending and wondering who was Mr. Knox that Fort Knox was in Louisville and Knoxville was clear across the way in another state. Was it John Knox?  Was it Knox Berry Farm? W sit time for Knox Knox jokes? Sarah sang her father’s Tennessee song; we attempted the Tennessee Waltz. We bought more gas ($2.22). We saw more trucks. We passed legions of fireworks stores and places with names like the Git’n’Go market. We saw signs for Oakridge, Tennessee and the Museum of the Appalachia and then, suddenly, we began to see signs for Pigeon Forge.

     Eureka!

     Pigeon Forge!

     My god, I know about Pigeon Forge, there’s factory outlets there: and we’re one day ahead of schedule (www.pigeonforgefactoryoutlet.com).

    We turned off at exit 407, just passing the Great Smokies Flea Market in time to have brunch at a pancake house decorated with dancing bears and log cabin timbers. Loathe to leave the dog in the car, we smuggled Toffee in trying to disguise him as a small bear in a Sherpa bag and ate our fill of cherry pancakes, country ham, biscuits and gravy and grits.  Orange juice came in large mason jars; country music blared on the speaker system.

    Once fortified, we were able to drive toward Gatlinberg. I kinda remember Gatlinburg as a holy place, scene of a large Civil War (oops) battle. All that was holy now was tourism.  We passed strip center and church and helicopter pad and tourist trap, one after the next, followed by drug store chains, Starbucks, fast foodhalls and family entertainment centers including bear fetes (www.BlackBearJamboree.com), comedy clubs (www.comedybarn.com), gospel music centers and faith based musiclas (www.MiracleTheater.com), the Star Cars Museum (www.starcarstn.com), the Elvis Museum & Gift Shops (www.elvismuseums.com) and the NASCAR racing pit. Oh yes, did I forget to mention the many opportunities to go white water rafting, although I am certain this is done without shopping bags in tow. Oh yes, Harrah’s and the Cherokee Nation have also opened Harrah’s Cherokee Casino & Hotel.

     There were hotels and motels galore—the usual suspects and others. The Best Western Greenbrier looked especially good as we sped by. While I knew abut the outlets in Pigeon Forge, I did not know about anything else. We were dumb struck with the beauty of the Smokies and the brilliance of the developers who tore down paradise and put up a parking lot..

    There was a Scrapbookers Superstore (www.yourscrapbookstore.com) . There were condos to rent by the night. There was Dollywood (www.dollywood.com) There was WalMart, which sold no Dolly Parton cd’s but did have an entire aisle devoted to horse care and grooming. There were cable car buses decorated with bears. There were magnets with bears. And finally, there were theoutlet centers—Tanger’s  had two different malls, one in Pigeon Forge and one in Five Oaks-Sevierville ( one of which is handily built next to Ripley’s Believe it Or Not (865/430-9991; traffic light #8 in Gatlinburg) and then Belz has an additional outlet. We could have spent a week there; dropped millions. If only we had the time or the money or won the Powerball drawing. Somehow we missed The Old Mill Square (www.old-mill.com).

     Gas was up to $2.29.

     Since our day was without a plan, we had debated if we would push on to High Point to spend an extra night there. But our explorations in Pigeon Forge slowed us down considerably and we decided to spend the night in Hickory, North Carolina, about two hours shy of High Point. Hickory, we knew, was the beginning of the furniture showrooms and we wanted time to do what we do best: shop.

     Hickory is a small town at the junction of Route 70 and US Highway 40. It consists of a branch of every hotel chain you might want and every fast food joint you might want. It was Tuesday, all you can eat night for ribs at Firebonz. Although we were tempted by the offer, we spied a Fuddrucker’s across the street and couldn’t resist. It was 5PM and we wanted to shop before the stores closed, so we drove directly to the Hickory Furniture Mart. It was hard to drive by the TJMaxx next door, but we persevered and entered the north door, with Toffee in arms. Dogs are allowed as long as they are held.

     The Hickory Furniture Mart (www.hickoryfurniture.com) is not huge, which make sit easy to handle and easy to work. Most of the showrooms also have galleries in High Point. This is sort of the chicken-heart’s High Point, a way to buy furniture  off-price without having to endure High Point. We could not know at that time that it was far better and much more fun than High Point. Instead, we guarded our credit cards and curbed our enthusiasm, thinking that High Point would be the mecca of hard woods.

    We signed in and were given a glossy map of the four levels of the building.  We each took a copy of the magazine giveaway, Hickory Furniture Mart, the magazine, filled with ads for the various showrooms and brands, with advertorial on how to ship. Since we parked and entered at the North Entrance, we were automatically on Level Four. We snooped in various showrooms, touched a lot of carpets and fell near faint with the beauty of a carpet offered for $4236—half price from its suggested retail.

     At the Broyles Clearance Center, I drooled over an armoire for TV, marked down for the third time to a very fair $895. Shipping would take 15 days and would cost an additional $215. The piece weighed 440 pounds. I was given a card with the style number, the measurements and the instructions to think about it, I could always e-mail for the piece later. It was easy, efficient and made me giddy.

    When the showrooms began to close, we went next door to another Holiday Inn Express. They were offering a Furniture Shopper’s Package—a suite for $88—but had no more pet friendly rooms and so we were out in cold until we found Jameson’s, a very nice motel around the corner from Fuddrucker’s where a room with two full size beds and breakfast was $68. We went to bed with the happy choice to skip the free breakfast and stop at Krispy Kreme on our way out of town.

Day Four: High Point

    Let me first digress to say a few words about High Point, North Carolina.

    Neither of us had ever been to High Point but I had been dreaming of it for over a dozen years. In the past, I have written travel-shopping columns for Travel & Leisure and Travel Holiday magazines and had pitched them both on a feature about furniture shopping in High Point. No one had ever jumped at the idea. I had almost talked my sister Mindi—who is not my real sister, but that’s another story—into coming to High Point to furnish her new house, but we never got around to it. So arriving, at last, at High Point, was something I had been looking forward to for years. The joys of Hickory just further whetted my appetite.

     In retrospect, I can say that if the editors of major travel magazines did not want a feature on High Point, I should have grasped that they knew something I didn’t know. When my friend Karen Fawcett, an interior designer with ASID, questioned my sanity regarding a trip to High Point, I laughed her off. Now I know that Karen, once again, proved she knew exactly what she was talking about.  I was determined to go to High Point, love it and write about it. Naturally, I would buy something.

     I had a small budget to buy one piece of furniture and have it shipped, so I would know how the whole process worked. Having recently bought a house in San Antonio, Texas I still had wall space and square footage to fill.  I was ready to be  dazzled and overwhelmed. I was anxious to be swept away. I did not know it would take serious commitment  to stay the course, or to find a good story.

     One drive-thru of greater downtown High Point and my brain suggested I flee. This was not what I signed up for, that’s for sure. Or fer sure, as they say there. But wait, I am not a Shopping Goddess for nothing. I know that in many marketplaces of the world, the best things are hidden out of sight. If I could just look past the higgly piggly face of High Point, perhaps I would find gems. Yes, the good stuff would be hidden!

    We stopped at the Visitors  Information Center ( 300 South Main Street; hpcvb@highpoint.org),  took a million brochures and guides and maps and how-to booklets with information on buying hardwoods or carpets. No where did they mention that for the most part, the wood is now shipped from North Carolina to China where the furniture is made and then shipped back to North Carolina. There was never a hint of the fact that the US is filled with design centers where major showrooms are attractive, friendly, easy to shop and where this same merchandise can be bought at the same price. Surely no one said that prices may be raised or lowered with the season or the whims of the maker and that the only real deals are in the clearance centers of the various showrooms.

     We learned all that on our own.

     Our first showroom was without doubt the best in High Point and the best of the trip: Antiques & Interiors (517 North Green Drive; www.antint.com). We ended up in this showroom totally by accident and later went on to their larger venue  at Market Centre (336/884-8464) which we did not like as much. The first store was a store cum warehouse filled with doors and antiques and reproductions and tabletop so complete in detail that you could easily furnish an entire home or lifestyle. Marked prices were more than fair; trade discounts made things truly exciting. (Designers must present their resale certificates for  trade discounts.)

    I found yet another TV-armoire, similar to the one that got away in Hickory, also for $895.  A chinoiserie cabinet for $795 – perfect for Sarah’s living room-- was probably the deal of the trip.  She didn’t buy it because she is going to China in a few months and wants to wait. While there were pieces  in the $12,000-16,000 range, most things we fancied were right around $1000; well within a furniture shopper’s budget. You just had to be willing to live with reproductions.

     We were so excited with this showroom that we scurried to their mother store, some 30,000 square feet of showroom.  A normal person might have swooned with delight. We are not as easily impressed and don’t like room sets that look too perfect or miles and miles of beautiful but very fake surroundings. But the bathroom was very nice.

     With our ‘High Point, The Home Furnishings Capital of the World Map’ in hand we left for the Rose Furniture Company, a firm that is well regarded by bargain shoppers (916 Finch Avenue; 336/812-9355; www.rosefurniture.com). Don’t ask me why. We tried to look past the low slung, seediness of town or the many showrooms that looked closed or maybe burned out. We tried to focus on articles that said Rose  Furniture Company was as close to heaven as some Tar Heels ever got.

     I am being unduly snide; I am trying to be honest and direct. Rose may appeal to some people, they just aren’t people I know. They aren’t people who read Born to Shop books.

    There were many couples wandering, their little Rose Furniture Company shopping guides, maps and note pages in hand. They seemed to like the idea that you bought an entire suite of something – all pieces, as presented, no changes, no deviations, no substitutions, no hash browns. Or maybe they were set designers looking to furnish the back lot for the next episode of The Sopranos. They would add on the plastic slip covers.

     Like all the furniture showrooms, Rose occupies many floors, many square feet and has gallery after gallery of room sets representing all the major names in home furnishings. There is also an immense fabric library and an open seating plan study-area with all the brochures from the makers in the area. One block away is the clearance center.

    Not at all interested in reproduction baronial dining sets, we headed to the clearance warehouse, praying at least for bargains.  A large sign explains the colored dot code system, although almost every item we priced had a red dot, a mere 40% discount. In some circles, forty per cent is a nice discount. When the furniture is priced as high as Rose’s, forty per cent is just a dent in the fake Biedermier.

     I found a chinoiserie piece I was wild for. (I am big on chinoiserie.) It was marked $23,000 with a showroom price of $11,000 and then had a green dot which meant I could take 65% off. Despite these generous offers, I did not find the piece worth more than the $895 that other pieces in other showrooms had cost. So that I began to wonder how serious these people were about any of these price tags or actually getting rid of this merchandise.

     I began to wonder if no one had shopped at Star Furniture (www.starfurniture.com), a company owned by Warren Buffet that sells major brands and major brand look-alikes at mighty fair prices with stores dotted all over Texas. Star sells the big names from North Carolina, but they also sell outright look-alikes made in China. The prices are in the $600-1200 range for most items, making a trip to High Point a waste of time. Indeed, if price is the issue—High Point may not be the solution.

    Whether it was the $4,000carpet that Sarah fell for—originally marked at over $8,000 -- or many of the other pieces we saw, I had a lot of trouble believing that the markdowns were for real. It’s not that I don’t think $4,000 is significant savings, it’s that I doubt the prices listed as suggested retail. Hell, I went to college for less than $3,000 a year back in the dark ages; I’d like to think I furnished my entire living room just this year (with new pieces) for about $5,000.  So furniture with astronomical price tags makes me nervous…and suspicious. High Point was giving me a headache and a heart ache.

     We left Rose Furniture Company in a depressed state of mind; our stop at a dumpy looking pig stand did not improve our mood. Despite books being written about the virtues of North Carolina barbeque—even Toffee wouldn’t eat what we had rejected, some sort of kimchi-cole slaw-pulled pork sandwich that was low on taste and big on after taste.  We gagged on our tears of disappointment.

     By the time we got to Furnitureland South—the grand daddy of all showrooms—we were in need of a laugh, which was forthcoming as soon as we saw the mart building with its giant—say eight stories high—highboy in the center.

    Now then, a small introduction about Furnitureland South. This is not a building but a complex of many buildings including mart, showrooms, galleries and, in the rear, a clearance center. I was only interested in the clearance center, natch. This world of maybe bargains and bonanza of room sets is out Route 85, in a niche of showrooms that – across the street—includes Thomasville, Drexel Heritage and Broyles, the self same Broyles we met and loved in Hickory.

    The mart portion is to the trade only. In the showrooms and galleries, you can wander for days, like Moses in the desert, looking at row after row of loungers for your home entertainment center or garden sculptures or repro Shaker sets, and I don’t mean salt or pepper.  This is a community.

     If you go during market—you need a special pass—the prices are truly low and this is perhaps worth doing. If you are an average guy like me, you want the clearance center.

    The clearance center is—as High Point standards go—somewhat glam. There are room sets on the round floor and many pieces that you can possibly imagine owning after you’ve closed your eyes and drowned out the sound of the surrounding furniture. However, if you go upstairs, you reach the serious markdowns where many items begin at 50% off and can go lower.

     When I walked into the second salon of chairs, all I could think of was the closing scene of the movie Raiders of the Lost Ark, in which you see row after row of file boxes—so many rows that it is impossible to see anything except for the overwhelming amount of  nothing. That’s how many chairs they have in row after row of warehouse space in Furnitureland South’s clearance back rooms. This does not mean it’s depressing, however. It is overwhelming; it is not easy. Bring Advil.

     In the main floor of this markdown madness, Sarah spotted a  remarkable TV armoire—how did you guess—chinoiserie style. It was tagged $699.

    “That’s not bad,” I said to Sarah, “but the door is off and I have to ship it and I think it’s high. Maybe they’ll come down because of the damage.”

     “It’s 50% off!” Sarah hissed at me, incredulous that I was so dumb. “It’s already marked down to $300!”

     In short order I was told that no, they would not re-attach the door; no, they would not color in the scratches; yes, they would ship it—for $175—and yes, it would be at my home in Texas in a month, give or take.  I would be asked to sign a legal document declaring that I understood the condition.

     It took about a half hour to do the paperwork; I was too buzzed away to even measure the piece. I did photograph it.  After the adventure, we were so wiped out that we went to K-Mart where I finally found a feather and down pillow, $9.99.

     Now knowing we would be in love with Holiday Inn Express motels, we had booked a B&B we found on the internet—Bouldin House (www.bouldinhouse.com), a gorgeous Victorian house in Archdale, a suburb of High Point.   We went out for a pizza dinner, came back in time for TV  viewing and thanked our lucky stars that we could leave High Point the next morning.  High Point, we sighed, was the low point of the trip.

Day Five: Enroute to RDU (Raleigh Durham Airport)

    Next comes the most incredible part of the journey. You can believe it or not. We want you to think we were smart enough to know what we were doing. We were almost smart enough, but not quite.

     All of us shoppers know about Replacements, the famous china dealer, that offers a mostly mail order service and have been famous for years. I even knew they were located in North Carolina and had cut out their advert from a home style magazine.  I had considered mentioning it to Sarah but never did so, nor did I look up Greensboro on the map. Therefore I could not know that Greensboro is about twenty minutes north of High Point.  I would hang my head in shame except I might miss some of the billboards.

    We were vaguely driving toward Chapel Hill when we began to see roadside billboards for Replacements Ltd. Because of its location on the highway, we had to drive past it before we could exit. We were both in shock—who knew they had a showroom and were open to the public? Furthermore, who could imagine that on the front door would be the words: ‘ we welcome well behaved pets’ ?!

     Walking into Replacements Ltd is like going to Disneyland for dishes. The world’s largest inventory of dishes rests here (www.replacements.com; 1-800-REPLACE) with a mere 2% showcased in the showroom. There’s an official tour every half hour, there’s a lounge, there’s restrooms, there’s free information to take away. There’s even a stack of pens and fridge magnets. The help is enormously friendly and knowledgeable. In the rear, in back of the showroom and before the warehouse, there’s a small clearance corner. It is a heart stopping destination.

    The store sells more than dishes. They have china, crystal and silver as well as tabletop, Christmas ornaments and gift items. There’s logo merchandise and silver polish. There’s napkin rings and porcelain animals. There is also a free identification service and an entire research staff that can help you find the name and/or make of your pattern. There is everything except a café or a Starbucks.

     Sarah loaded up on Christmas ornaments and table décor; I fell in love with a Wedgwood pattern called Rattan and paid full retail ($18 each) for four buttercup yellow dinner plates because the soup bowls were on sale for $7.99.  I do not need more dishes, but found myself powerless to resist them. I think tomorrow I may paint the dining room buttercup yellow.

     We were starving by the time we left Replacements and headed to Chapel Hill where we put the last of the gas in our renta car ($2.54). Chapel Hill is, of course, everything we wanted High Point to be—gorgeous, stately, glamorous and chic.  The houses surely cost a million dollars. The ivy is real. It only hurt a little bit when the student who gave us directions said ‘yes, ma’am’ after we thanked him.

    It hurt more when we got lost going into RDU in search of our motel. RDU is amazingly complicated; North Carolina is remiss in the signage department. When we finally found our La Quinta for the night, we were amused at the final coincidence of the trip: our hotel was located on Factory Store Road. For those who must know, Factory Store Road leads to the worst factory outlet mall I have ever been to. We can’t even comment on how bad it is because we were throw out: no dogs allowed.

    So we packed our little guy into his Sherpa tote, smuggled him into the Texas Steakhouse and ate our last dinner on the road. We drank giant margaritas and toasted Thelma and Louise.

If you go

       Professional designers need business cards and a copy of their resale certificate;

Ask about professional discounts at each showroom—some discount and some do not. Also:

• Avoid April and October market dates when hotel prices triple and there’s little room for civilians.
• Considering going in fall when the leaves change.
• Book  Bouldin House  (the B&B where we stayed, see web site above) or one of the motel chains in Archdale, not High Point.
• Consider that the furniture seeking territory stretches from Hickory and Winston Salem through the High Point area and into Greensboro.
• Photograph everything you buy and those items you are considering. Ask if you can purchase by e-mail after you return home. This allows you to research the same item or a similar one to discover if it is available to you for a reasonable price.
• Ask about delivery—we were quoted any where from 15-30 days as an average but sometimes there was a 6-8 week wait.
• Make sure you understand what you are buying. Very often only the entire room set can be purchased; individual pieces are not sold from a set. In short, you may think you’ve bought the sofa for $2300 (which seems fair to you) to discover that you have bought the sofa and two matching chairs.
• Bring your check book as some firms do not take plastic.