The Dixie Stampede

During our pre-Branson research Gary found this video advertising Dolly Parton’s Dixie Stampede.

(Don’t be thrown by the scrap of foreign language in the title. It’s all-Amer’cn after that.)

Gary saw the video and screamed “OH MY GOD WE HAVE TO GO TO THIS! IT HAS HORSES RUNNING AROUND!”

“What, like the Lipizzaner Stallions?” I asked.

“YES JUST LIKE THAT,” he lied. “THEY RUN AROUND WHILE YOU EAT!”

“Really?”

“AND I BET WE CAN SNEAK THEM TREATS DURING THE SHOW!”

I was persuaded to watch the video above and it is all true, only more so, even to a surreal level.

Example of Truth in Advertising from the Above Video:

It really is “Dolly Parton’s Dixie Stampede.” We bought tickets at the box office and we noticed “Jolene” playing in the background. Then “Nine to Five,” followed by every Dolly Parton hit ever.

“Like Nothing You’ve Ever Seen Before” So, so true. I have been to dinner theater (long ago, as a child, and I saw John Davidson in Harvey) I have seen horses gallop around a stadium, I have seen cornpone humor, I have seen doves released and magic tricks and I have seen fireworks, but I have never seen them all in the same venue.

The venue is “A Magnificent Southern Mansion.” You know, if Southern Mansions had buffaloes rolling in the parlor. The exterior of the venue was very encouraging, especially since the rest of the Branson Strip looks like this:

So, yes, in contrast the exterior of Dolly’s Dixie Stampede is indeed elegant.

And before you ask, Dixie though it may be there are no Confederate flags at the Dixie Stampede.

Before the show we did “enjoy music, comedy and impressive performers.” In fact, since we were there early, we sat at the bar encircling the stage and were incorporated into the juggling act. There was one point in which the juggler pretended to almost drop a ladder on me and the woman in the next seat. We instinctively tried to catch it, while both our husbands looked at us impassively. He made much of their cold behavior. Then after that, he pretended to “almost” drop lighted torches on us.

I sought him out after the pre-show and he was quite pleasant to me. Then Gary asked him a question, then he answered with a question, and evidently they have common interests. It was lovely to watch them ping-pong references to science fiction, singularities, and medical breakthroughs. Almost like there was another version of Gary who could juggle. They went on for almost twenty minutes and we got to our seats in the arena just before the show began.

Because our new seats were also in the front row, when “The Spectacular” began the horses rode at top speed directly toward us and stopped inches away from our noses. Then they charged about, then again rode at directly up to us. Every twenty seconds there was a young man dressed as a soldier, astride a horse, in my face, making eye contact with me. I felt I had to acknowledge him. I cocked my head to the side every time. I could have nodded, or blessed him, or something. I felt a bit like the queen reviewing the troops. Or, Agrippina in the Colosseum. I felt I could have made the soldiers fight to the death. It was surreal, sitting on the very edge of a sand-filled arena as horses prance and actors sing for your amusement.

There is indeed “A Delicious Four-Course Feast” that you are obliged to eat entirely without utensils. Every twenty minutes or so a server comes by with a bucket (WITH A BUCKET BECAUSE CLASSY) and doles out cream soup, biscuits, an entire roast chicken, a slab of pork loin, half a baked potato, corn, and an apple turnover.

Gary chickened out and did not ask for a halal meal, as he had promised.

There was only one moment when we were sprayed by sand from the horses tearing past. There are indeed horses charging about during your meal, as well as “Hilarious Racing Pigs” and all the other elements mentioned in the video. However, NOT mentioned in the video were a) the chicken herding competition and b) the trained longhorn steer. I didn’t notice the steer talent at first, because I was at the time so dazed with horses in my face and roast chickens flopped in front of me. Gary pointed out no one had herded the longhorn steer in or out, and that the steer must have learned to listen the music as a cue. They did bob their heads in time with the music. I don’t know. It could be the steer were trained. That’s when the three buffalo showed up. The buffalo rolled in the sand as if on cue. The Power of Dolly compels you, beasts, do as She says. Or, possibly, right before the buffalo arrived the staff sprayed the sand with something I assume was buffalo catnip

It’s very unsatisfying watching a buffalo try to roll over because of course it can’t, because of the hump. However, buffalo just standing would be a bit dull.

There was an acknowledgement of Native Americans, but no mentions of slavery. Th
ere was a civil war theme: one side of the stadium had to root for the Yankees and one side the Rebels, and then they would square off in competitions. The Yankee Pigs would race faster than the Southern Pigs, say. Because our hands were full of chickenporkbiscuitsappleturnoverscorn, we could not applaud, but at times the emcee would bellow “Stam-PEEEEEDE” in an “are you ready to rumble?” tone, and we would all stomp our feet. (As one does when the empress is amused by the racing pigs.)

Even though I only ate half of every foodstuff flung at me, I eventually needed to visit the restroom, and thus almost missed “The Stirring Grand Finale with an Original Soundrack by Dolly Herself.” I heard her dulcet tones and high-tailed it back to my seat. Dolly had descended via a big TV monitor and was singing a song about being American, and fireworks blew, and doves flew, and I think we were all meant to feel patriotic.

I wasn’t sure about that until the master of ceremonies bellowed, “Are ya PROUD to be an American?”

After eating enough food to choke one of Dolly’s magnificent horses, and treating a shameful Civil War as if it were a football game, I had to answer, “No, no I am not particularly proud at the moment, thank you,” and I didn’t even have to say it quietly because an arena of a thousand people were stomping their feet.