Small town, enormous town

I remember it like it was yesterday.  It was a grey, drizzly Saturday about 1984 or 85 in Goodman's Cafe on Main Street in Blountstown, FL.  I had a bowl of chili and a grilled cheese sandwich.  We only went to town once a month.We had to pay someone to take us to town grocery shopping when my Grandmother's social security and the teacher's retirement check came in.  We always had lunch at one of the few restaurants in town.  I always loved the Burger Shake.  The Green's then the Donaldson's ran a great place.  We lived out near Sam Adkins Park.  I remember when they built it.

We banked at Ellis Bank, later NCNB Bank, my Grandmother refused to call it anything but Ellis Bank.  Mrs. Peacock was my Grandmother's favorite teller at one point, I'm not sure if she moved to the credit union or not when that came to town.  Things got a bit hazy there for a while.  I know we used to shop at Hagler's IGA and Evelyn Donaldson was my Grandmother's favorite cashier.  Then they opened the Piggly Wiggly in the lot adjoining Corbin's hardware store.  We started shopping there because "Aunt Margie" worked in the deli.  They had amazing potato wedges.

One thing I was absolutely certain of was that I would live in Blountstown, FL.  I would teach in Blountstown when I grew up despite the fact the teachers seemed to think I wasn't very bright.  I knew I would graduate with the BHS class of 1988, I would go to FSU or Emmanuel College.  I just knew I would return to live the rest of my life near the family and friends I had in Blountstown.  I was not one of the popular kids, I didn't have a lot of family.  I had family by marriage and a few really good friends I wanted to be near always.

It's amazing what you can convince yourself of when you are too young and naive to see another way.  I didn't graduate with the class of 1988 in Blountstown, but with another class of 1988 in Chicago, IL.  I did not go to either FSU or Emmanuel.  I went to 3 different schools but finished exactly none of them because life kept getting in the way.  I never returned to Blountstown aside from 3-5 brief visits.

I did learn as I ventured away with my Mom in 1985, that strange November day that there was a huge world and I was on the edge of it.  I learned when I got to Chicago that I was far from stupid, or dimwitted, I was placed in honors classes and did fairly well in them.  I also learned that I had a very high level of social anxiety, I hid it behind a joker's mask of smiles and laughter.  My shell was beginning to crack.  I was emerging.  The person I tucked away in that shell all those years ago had continued to grow, she just looked very different  than the one I'd envisioned and the one I'd been forced to pretend to be.  In truth the cracks started appearing before I left Blountstown.  I was beginning to grow up and actually voice my opinion, no matter how ignorant it was perceived to be, how ill advised, unpopular, humorless or humorous.

As the years trod on, I went off to college, realized I hated theater and didn't want to do it anymore.  I came back to Chicago, was reconnected with a boy I knew from Blounstown.  A boy my Grandmother probably didn't like, but it was the closest thing to her blessing I could get.  I'd fallen for him hard in 5th grade and he never left my heart and mind.  We reconnected, fell in love, I moved to Pensacola,shacked up and married, went back to school but didn't know if I wanted to teach.  I started work in an elementary school as assistant director in after school care (was SURE I didn't want to teach) then had a baby. I went back to school yet again.  This time I discovered I was actually quite intelligent.  I had more fun tutoring various electronics courses, Physics, Calculus and honors English while working as a lab FA and lead FA in my department.

You guessed it...quit school again because it was my son's turn to go to Kindergarten.  I couldn't be an hour away when he got sick and needed me.  I threw myself into volunteer work in his school, then won the PTA presidency.  The school was barely integrated.  It was largely a hispanic community.  The PTA was run by two white women when I decided it was time for a change. I hadn't been as sneaky as I had the capacity to be yet, nor as naughtily good.  The constitution hadn't been touched in 4 years.  I rewrote the constitution and happily admit I forced my agenda for an integrated PTA.  I wrote into the constitution that there would be a President, and 2 vice president's one of whom was to be bilingual the other only Spanish speaking.  I incorporated 2 Hispanic teachers, meetings were conducted in English and Spanish at the same time.  I met with the parents of Hispanic children who were considering involvement in the PTA based on a male Hispanic teacher approaching the father's.  That was the best winter festival ever.  We had a full line kitchen making fresh Mexican food, fathers and mothers were both involved.

The years have moved on and so have I.  I am a housewife and a mother.  I am often exasperated or exasperating.  I am over worked and under appreciated or over appreciated and under worked.  I am not very good at Candy Crush.  I am a pretty lazy housekeeper, I wish I liked to clean, but sadly I like to connect with friends and family.  The mess and the souvenirs from years of travel and our life as a family will be here.  Life however, is short.  

In my childish insular world, I never imagined what my life would be like. Certainly not where life would take me.  I had planned on lesson plans, those same school walls I walked so many years before with the echos of classmates laughter falling like stones to the floor as new notes replaced them.  Homecoming parades and a never ending round of "Eye of the Tiger".  I had planned on finally not letting fear hold me back and becoming more out going.  I had planned on falling in love with and marrying a boy in that same small town.  I did do that.

As my perfect dream of sitting in Goodman's diner every Saturday afternoon in my adult life (until "the one" came along) ended in a nightmare one day.  I awoke new and reborn, being reborn daily.

There goes my mind and some minutes too...

Recently I lost my mind.  How is it possible that there was any left to lose you ask?  Surprised me too actually!!  But there was some, and also a bit of pride I lost or dignity along the way.  I know the suspense must be killing you.  How could someone as odd as I am, as well versed in tainted baby food dug from a pit, as adept at cinderblock tossing from a tree, as exposed and selfless enough to admit public tears possibly fall further down the losing one's mind scale???  Here goes....

On Halloween night I dvr'd 4 episodes of  Here Come's Honey Boo Boo!

You can choose to stop reading here and write me off as flat out insane, or you can watch the train wreck of my mind unfold...........

I see you decided to stay.  Firstly we watched the episodes out of order.  Last first, first last.  We have never had half an hour last longer.  This show is an excellent way to make more out of your day if you don't mind losing your minutes and hoping against all hope that someone gets arrested or finally tells the kid to forget pageantry and learn grammar.  I don't find, nor have I ever found "in yo face!!!" kids to be cute or worth any television time.  The death knell to many tv shows is the addition of the "cutesy kid".  The kid in question makes you want to vomit, or never watch the show again.  This entire series is centered around an "in yo face!!" bratty child, a family with some of the worst nutrition I have ever seen, and in general a blight on southern pride.  NO not white power, let's be killing folk.  Not all southerners are like that.  We love all people especially people who make good food and love their family.

In the four episodes, there was;
bobbing for raw pigs feet
a weight loss/gain challenge
Christmas in July
Farting in every episode
Cheese ball eating
Using coupons to buy nothing but over processed fatty horrible for you food
a Pig crapping on the table
a pregnant 17 year old talking about her "biscuit hurting"
a chubby plain child shoved into some outfit strugging her "stuff"
painting on a fake tan
rude kids treating their parents and each other with zero respect

I have NO idea what the station is thinking by running this drivel.  I had a respected friend tell me he watched the show and was addicted.  I decided to give it a go.  It was only worth my time because it prolonged the weekend and gave me more time with my family.

This show did remind me about my own family when I was growing up, our values, the fear of the flip flop or the belt on the behind for rude behavior.  Spankings generally ended before our teens but we were still in fear of a quick pop to the mouth for sassing or a rude word spoken to an adult.  These spankings or pop to the lips could be delivered by ANY adult and if it was someone other than your Mama or Grandma...you got it again.  Rudeness was simply NOT tolerated in the rural south where I grew up.  Plenty of people in Blountstown in the 1970's-80's can attest to this.  It was ok to be poor, but never ok to be rude or white trash.

The only good thing I can really say about this show is...her house looked fairly clean, and she made her bed.  I gave up making my bed, I guess I lost that bit of pride...but I also don't slide on a tarp with oil, dish washing liquid, water and mud.  I think I will take my messy bed over that.

I assume some of you reading this like the show....if you are offended by my opinion, oh well.  It's my opinion.  I don't plan to waste anymore time on this show.  I wish the family well, and I hope the kids learn some good nutrition and manners.  I fear for the youngest, it looks like another Anna Nicole Smith in the making.

I'm going to go read recipes now to figure out how to cook the coon we bought in Detroit...I am not making that up