Dog Days

This time of year is known as the “dog days”. I have heard that phrase all my life. Recently as we were talking, my Dad even mentioned the "dog days". I don’t recall it ever being officially defined by those who used the phrase in my presence. I did come to understand how it more specifically meant the long hot days of summer such as a body can experience in July and August in the deep South. I imagine this particular use of the phrase came about when some folks who lived a harder life than I ever have looked up from working in such heat only to see a dog stretched out on the dirt as if it had given up, maybe even died from the scorching, unrelenting heat. That experience was enough to declare how the summer’s dog days had arrived.

Now, if you go to the National Geographic web site you will read how the Greeks and Romans watched the stars. This was probably more reliable than a phone app or the five o’clock forecast from the local TV station. Specifically, they watched the dog star, Sirius and how it was positioned in the sky. When Sirius rose before the sun, the Greeks and Romans referred to the time as the “dog days”. It coincided with the hottest days of the year, which just happened to begin in late July.

We don’t often look at the stars at our house. It’s not because it is not an interesting activity. It is just more an issue of time and opportunity. For the last nine months though, we have lived through some dog days.

Despite having Kayla the cat as a pet, Hannah wanted a puppy. After talking it over, Jennifer and I felt like we were ready to add another pet to our household. Of course, Hannah wanted a golden retriever or a black lab or German shepherd. We felt any of those were just too big for all of us, especially considering whatever dog we welcomed would have to spend a good deal of time indoors. It’s already hard enough to get a good seat on the couch with the three of us and the cat.

So, Jennifer began searching. One day in November, she sent me an email with a picture of a dog. She said she thought this was the one. The dog though was about 75 miles north of us in Tullahoma. She made inquiry about adopting the pup. The stars aligned and soon, she was on her way to locate this dog.

I picked Hannah up from school and we headed home. Once home, a snack and homework awaited. More was waiting for Hannah, she just did not know yet. As time slipped by and Jennifer was still not home, I had to keep Hannah occupied enough so that she would not ask too many questions about the change in routine. Since it was November, darkness came quickly that evening. Soon enough though, my phone lit up with a message. Jennifer and the dog were close.

The garage door opened. I told Hannah we needed to see if Jennifer needed any help carrying anything in from her car. As we walked down our basement stairs, Hannah began repeating “Please let it be a puppy, please let it be a puppy!” I am not sure what led her to say that but understanding what she was about to discover I captured on video the moment she laid eyes on the puppy. She began crying standing frozen in the moment unsure what to do. Jennifer told her to hold the puppy so Hannah did. She stopped a time or two though to hand her off so she could hug Jennifer or me.

As the excitement waned a bit, Hannah and I learned that the dog had been adopted briefly then returned when the adopter realized they could not care adequately for the puppy. Before they returned her though, they named her Josie and painted her toenails red. Undaunted, Hannah declared the dog had a new name, Sadie, and, then, Sadie, red toenails and all, had a new home.

Since that November evening, Sadie has become part of who we are. She desperately wants Kayla the cat to play with her but Kayla just growls at her, takes an occasional swat at her and I am sure if cats have any type of memory longs for the good ol’ days before the dog came to live at our house.

Sadie was a few months old when we adopted her. We are still in the puppy phase at this moment. We have already endured chewed up shoes, pens, tennis balls and stuffed animals. Somehow, she also has chewed through a couple of leashes and at least one harness. While we try to keep her away from Kayla’s food bowl, she is a sneaky one that will seemingly eat anything if given the opportunity.

Jennifer and I both sometimes call the dog Kayla and we sometimes call the cat Sadie. Sadie though has adapted because we also call her “dog”, “Josie” and my favorite, “Tullahoma Tina”. I called her this right after we got her then told her she should always remember where she came from. I not sure she understands but we do.

I hope I never forget that night Sadie came to our home. I hope I always remember the happy tears Hannah cried standing beside her Mom’s car on a November evening. Thinking about it all now, I remember then how I took a moment to drift into the future imagining Hannah coming home ten years from then to be greeted by this dog that she wanted so much.

Hopefully, there will be a lot of good moments for us all between those two memories. For now, we try to put things we don’t want destroyed by Sadie’s teeth out of reach. We have learned Sadie likes her tummy rubbed. We laugh when her ears flop backward. We smile when she lays on the couch and snores. We chuckle when she barks at a passing car. We are amazed at how happy she is when we come home after being gone even for a very short time.

So, in these dog days of summer, we walk Sadie through our yard. She stretches the limits of the leash we use to keep her away from the street. She sniffs every inch of the yard like a detective looking for clues to a crime. She stops now and then to furiously dig away at the ground with her two front paws. Almost every time she walks the yard though she plops down on the ground stretching her body out as far as she can from one end to the other. She lays there, flips over to her back, rolls from side to side a bit before stopping to lay still while soaking in as much sunshine as she can. Are these the dog days? You know it...just don't tell Kayla the cat.

Road Trip: Jackson

After graduating college, I lived in Jackson, Tennessee, home of the Golden Circle, Casey Jones Village, the Red Dog Saloon, and Carl Perkins. I secured a job with a local television station working evenings on three live broadcasts five days a week. The pay wasn't much but, as is often said, my foot was in the door.

I had attended college about thirty minutes away, so I was familiar with Jackson. It was the weekend getaway from the books and studying. It was the place to take a date on a Friday night. So, when I actually moved there I became more aware of what the city offered. I already understood I was comfortable here, so if the work stayed steady then this could become home.

Work became the reason I left there. The station had some ongoing legal issues and seemed poorly operated on a few levels. The main problem for me, and many of my co-workers, was the parent company would issue our checks late every other Thursday. Often, they told us to hold the check until Monday because the account they were drawing money from might not have enough funds to cover payroll. This happened enough times that summer that a few of us rewrote the lyrics to Terence Trent D'Arby's song, "Sign Your Name (Across My Heart)" to "Sign Your Name (Across My Check)." So, just before Thanksgiving, having located a job in my hometown, I moved back to Georgia.

Still, looking back I had about six months in Jackson. I rented my first apartment. The lady I rented from was named Annette, except she pronounced her name A-net. For my job, I covered a rodeo in nearby Lexington. I also covered an election in Union City, and the world's largest milkshake at the start of my college's fall semester. I hung out with friends. I waved to Carl Perkins in a catfish restaurant once. I learned a lot about myself in those days.

There were times I made a few road trips. When I was searching for a new job, I took several trips back to Georgia. Most of these were trips I made overnight. When my work week ended on Friday night about 11, I had my car loaded for a weekend road trip. Fueled on Mountain Dew and Little Debbie snack cakes, I barreled down the interstate in the dark of the night. I suppose the great thing about being in your early-twenties then was how I never second-guessed the sanity of doing this. I am not sure I would try this now. Anyway, I would pull into my parents' driveway early Saturday morning. My Mom usually worked on Saturday and my Dad usually had chores to do, so I found a bed and crashed until midday. Over the weekend though, I enjoyed being back home and visiting family and friends there. Early Monday morning, I loaded up my car and made the trip back to Jackson, most of it in daylight.

There came a time when I gave notice to my employer. They owed me parts of pay for six weeks when I left (spoiler alert: they eventually paid all of us what we earned). I remember that final day of work. I recall calling a friend to say goodbye. I remember that day was rainy. Autumn's leaves stuck to the pavement in the wetness. I left for work early that day just so I could revisit some of the old haunts one last time, if only in a passing car. I drove by the movie theatre, the mall, the Siam Room Chinese restaurant ("Welcome back!"), the Mexican drive-thru I sometimes visited after work, and other places that have now blended into time and memory. I went to work for the final time there, and, later after work, made a trip back to Georgia.

I've been back to Jackson several times through the years even though it has been a long time since my last visit there. I remember that place and my time there fondly, and on occasion, I miss those days. Of course, that place has changed from the way I remember. I am grateful though I can remember that place the way I do, a nice stop along the way in my life's journey.

Playlist for Road Trip: Jackson
Johnny Cash and June Carter: "Jackson"
Carl Perkins "Blue Suede Shoes"
Rob Jungklas "Memphis Thing"
Dwight Yoakam and Buck Owens "Streets of Bakersfield"
John Kilzer "Memory in the Making"
Jimmy Davis and Junction "Kick The Wall"
Blue Tears "Rockin' With The Radio"
Rosanne Cash "Runaway Train"
Tracy Chapman "Fast Car"
Cheap Trick "The Flame"
Keith Richards: "Take It So Hard"
John Hiatt: "Drive South"

Not Always Easy

A part of life that never changes is how life is always changing. Since much of this type of change is gradual, most of us live with some understanding that we live in the time between we realize such changes. Some change takes place, we realize the change and react.

When I think about my life, I seem to end up measuring the way life is now with how it was when I first can recall. This takes me back to my childhood. At this time, I began putting the puzzle pieces together of who I was, and who was in my family. God blessed me with a wonderful immediate family. Beyond that He also blessed me with amazing aunts, uncles, and cousins.

As life moved on, changes came about. Family members moved away. Some drifted away. Some died.

I was one of those who moved away. Granted, it is just a few hours away but still the distance and time is great enough to make it difficult to get there easily at times.

Still, there are days when I wish I could go back to the way it was when I first understood how those pieces of the puzzle fit together so that all the family I have ever known would still be together. Of course, such wishing can never make such a thing happen. This leads to another part of life, when change happens we react in some way. Hopefully, we all adapt, you know, change, in some way and move forward.

Recently, a couple of those extended family members died. Under normal circumstances, juggling work and family schedules here would determine how I could pay my respects. After all, being part of such a close and large family taught me to honor and respect those of us who pass away when that time comes. With the added weight of global pandemic, that decision became harder.

As I waited to hear details of visitation and service, the inclusion of the virus added to the equation of attending. When the details became available, it became clear I would not be able to attend. Work and family matters here would not bend enough to allow me to be present.

Living away from most of my family means this happens at times. Each time I grapple with this, I end up feeling guilty. I feel as if I am not properly remembering and honoring what these family members have meant, still mean and will forever mean to me.

To some who read this, what I say here may not mean much. To some family does not matter very much for various reasons. To some stopping to reflect when someone dies is a waste of time, after all, life goes on for the living. For me, I cannot understand that type of thinking. I was raised differently I suppose.

Part of life is also about making hard choices then living with the consequences of those decisions. When I moved here over twenty-five years ago, I knew then how losing family members to death would be something that would bother me. Knowing I could not always be on hand to share tears, laughs and memories of loved ones with those family members who will always be a part of who I am is something I knew I had to accept at some level. I am not sure I have been successful at finding that place. I am not sure I really want to ever find that place. I know now when it happens, it is never an easy thing to go through. That is one thing that does not seem to change.

Oh! Christmas Tree

‘Tis the season again, proving how time flies. It sure seems it was yesterday when I was pondering what to write about the holiday season. Of course, that was a year ago. But, alas, here we are again. In a year that has been upside-down and sideways, one size too large and one size too small at the same time, it is good to know how some things have not changed.

Last year in this season at our house we were in the middle of a renovation. Our dining room and deck were gone then. A skeleton of what they would become was taking form. Still, we forged ahead with our family traditions. We did what we normally did knowing the work ahead on our house would be finished soon.

Almost as soon as the renovation was completed, everything across our country closed. The virus visited our shores. Our leaders told us to wash our hands and put on masks to flatten a curve. Our instincts told us to buy toilet paper.

For me, I went from working from my office in a second-floor brick building a half-hour commute away to working from our dining room table, mere steps from the kitchen. It all happened so suddenly. My work was more challenging in some ways. Life, overall, was a bit more stressful than normal. To add to the workload, Hannah’s school finished the year remotely as well. Her summer camp was then canceled. Fortunately, Jennifer’s work scheduled continued mostly as it had before. We ended up with this different schedule for months. It was busy here every day. It seemed as if every moment was filled.

To add to all this, we could not get away for a break since travel was limited. This has meant we have seen little of my family in the past year. We have seen less of friends also. It is aggravating and disheartening to think about all the time lost in that regard. It is true we can now connect in many amazing and different ways; those ways though will never be the same as a hug from your mom or soaking in advice from your dad.

Hannah’s school opened again in August. I returned to my physical office in September. Jennifer continued her work routine as she had all along. In the new madness we learned to live through, it was good to know her schedule stayed steady as it seemed to provide an anchor so we didn’t drift too far from who we are as a family.

While the uncertainty of this virus caused changes to ripple into every day of our lives, a constant for us was gathering around our dining room table each night. It was good to have this. More than before, this time became more needed, more special. It became a time that allowed us to leave behind worries about viruses, vaccines, work-work, schoolwork, and the other concerns that creep into everyday living. Because of the different nature of this year though I think it caused a different focus at times. The changes came about so fast and so hard it was difficult to appreciate the remodeled surroundings.

This remodel project hit at the heart of who we are as a family. When we initially looked at this house, I am convinced Jennifer’s eyes lit up when we walked into that old dining area. The room featured three walls of huge windows. Our first visit was on a warm October day. The trees in the woods behind the house were changing colors. One of those windows was open allowing a breeze to pass through. It was all like a snapshot in a memory book. I am not saying that was the reason we bought this house, but I am satisfied it helped convince Jennifer that this is where we would settle. So, changing that room was a major thing.

Of course, when you live in a particular house for many years, you learn how some things just do not work out the way you thought they would initially. When we used the dining room on cold days, it was very cold. On summer afternoons, the old air-conditioning unit could not produce enough cool air to make a dent in the heat from the sunshine through the sixteen giant windows and two mostly glass doors. Then the roof leaked. I patched it. I had roofing experts patch it.  Still, heavy rain would fall and invariably leak onto the furniture.  We became fearful the roof would eventually just collapse.

And so, just after Thanksgiving 2019, this remodel started for us. We knew then we would not have the use of part of our house for a few months. That was okay though. We sacrificed that time understanding we would have a more useful house for the years ahead.

With all the craziness this year has brought, it has been hard to appreciate and enjoy these renovations. All the chaos just allowed us to do what we had to do and did not necessarily let us sit back, kick up our heels, and appreciate the changes.

Still, we have tried to maintain as many of the routine things as possible, so we don’t lose track of everything we once knew. One of those things is how we decorate for Christmas. We usually do this the Friday or Saturday after Thanksgiving. We were able to do this as a family again this year. I stretch out the multi-colored lightbulbs along our porch railing. I hang the strands of twinkling snowflakes from our porch overhang. I locate then connect power strips and extension cords to a timer that somehow magically illuminates the front of our house. While I do this, Jennifer and Hannah decorate the Christmas tree, then place the stockings on the fireplace mantle and add seasonal cheer in the form of various ornaments and charms throughout the house. By the time the day turned dark, our house slowly began to glow with Christmas lights inside and out.

We did vary one Christmas decorating tradition this year. Instead of placing the Christmas tree in our living room, we placed it in the dining room. It made sense. We have a bit more room there. We would not have to rearrange various pieces of furniture in the living room as we do every year.

Looking back I realize I have spent more time in our house this year day-to-day than any other year that we have lived here. Because of this, I now understand how I sometimes fail to see the obvious. For instance, recently we came home from a short adventure. It was raining this day. My first instinct was to walk into the dining room to see if the roof had a new leak. About a step into the room, I realized since the renovation I no longer need to be concerned with that.

More importantly, though, I thought about the changes in the past year late one night. Jennifer and Hannah had both gone to bed. I went through the house making sure doors were locked and lights were turned off. I stepped into the kitchen then looked ahead into the dining room. There, in a silhouette against our new windows between the dining room table and our new green couch, stood our illuminated Christmas tree.

It is the same tree we have had for years. Most of the decorations are ones we have accumulated over the years. The location of the tree was different. The room where it stood had changed from our other years here.

I stopped though for a moment. In the darkness, the tree looked remarkable. The new surroundings gave the tree a fresh backdrop in which to shine. For a moment, I thought about all the changes not just in this room but in life over the past year. I realized how blessed I am in ways I sometimes overlook.

‘Tis the season for sure, a season to reflect on the past but also a time to trust better days are ahead. I hope each of us can find and appreciate the good stuff in life.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Voice

I see her sitting in that chair, slumped slightly to her left. As I focus on her face I see her mother and father, her brothers and sisters, her aunts and uncles all in the features handed down to her. I know these features as I share them with her and her other children, her grandchildren and her great grandchildren. 

I watch her perk up then I wait for her voice. Sometimes, now, it's a bit shaky as if her vocal chords are trying to steady. Other times, it's a bit more clear. No matter how it is, soon enough it hits the pitch and speed and volume I have known all my life.

Usually a smile comes across her face. That is a natural reaction for her. Now, though, it is sometimes masked behind some physical pain or maybe even depression. Still, she tries, and for a time, all is as well as it can get now.

We catch up on things. Her life now is the most limited it has ever been. Time and disease has taken away most of her eyesight. The vivid scope of life she knew all these years has grown limited, darker and blurry. Simple everyday tasks she tended to are no longer doable easily or at all. The more complicated things she was responsible for are now distant memories for her.

Sometimes it all slips off the rails. She begins talking about things the rest of us do not understand or cannot comprehend. She seems certain beyond any doubt that what she says is the way things are despite clear evidence that things are not the way she imagines. It is hard to know what to do then. I know I should probably just move on without saying much but it is hard to know how to reign in what you think you should say even if you understand why you should just keep quiet.

In time, some semblance of normalcy returns. Her smile returns. Her voice seems a bit stronger.

As much as I can hope and wish for in this situation, the days from the past when life unfolded seemingly without a hitch are gone, taken for granted because they were days where all seemed right. Now, I accept what is left, whether I like it or not.

I search for her smile. I listen for her laugh. I try to find that place where her voice is still strong. While there are things she told me I was always remember I listen for something else now in her voice. I listen for that place where whatever she says is running over with a confidence that assures me I can do whatever I set my mind to do. I search for that because I know I will need to lean into that to see all this through.

13 Observations After 50 Days of Quarantine

On the day this post will appear, I will have been part of the stay-at-home quarantine surrounding the COVID-19 virus right at fifty days. It started for me on Friday, March 13. From December until March, we had a major renovation at our house. This renovation closed off part of our house during this time. To say that we looked forward to the day when the work was over so we could enjoy our house would be an understatement. By Friday, March 13, much of the work was over with only a few small items to be completed. I planned to take that day off from my job so I could get a few things at the house in order.

At work though, we were in a rush to prepare things so that we could work from home in case the virus spread enough to force closing our physical office. By that Friday, I also learned Hannah’s school, fearing the virus, had already determined to close their campus then provide lessons online beginning the following week. So, on the day I intended to do a few things around the house, I found myself setting up my portable work office then prepped a portable school space for Hannah. While my work colleagues had to report to our physical office the following week, I began working from home that weekend.

After picking Hannah up from school on the afternoon of the 13th, I can probably count on both hands the number of times I have left our house. Jennifer’s job requires her to continue to report to her office so, most days, it’s been me and Hannah holding down the fort. I am grateful Hannah’s cousin has been able to help Hannah with some of her school days so far.

Honestly, I am a homebody. I have never had any major desire to do any serious traveling. Knowing I was about to be at home for an undetermined time I just knew things would be all right. Still, a month and a half into this situation, with no exact end in sight, I would like to share a few things I have observed during this unusual time.

 

~Shoes may be necessary for some walks of life but, y’all, I haven’t missed them at all.

~By the time restrictions are eased enough that I return to my work office, I hope my already-dated wardrobe has had a chance to come back in style.

~I never considered a day would come in the good ol’ U.S.A when toilet paper would be so valued.

~Fighting through morning and afternoon traffic is stressful. I don’t miss it but stress is still there. It has been replaced by trying to help Hannah complete a homework assignment for her school in between video conference meetings for work.

~I worked in local television years ago. I know full well how on-camera personalities often wore a nice blouse or suit and tie but underneath the newsdesk wore a ragged pair of tennis shorts. Knowing that during these video conferences I try not to think what others may be wearing below their neckline and hope they don’t consider what I may be wearing. In this situation, I am proud to say I don’t own a pair of tennis shorts.

~I appreciate freedom more. In normal circumstances staying at home all day but not going anywhere would not bother me. Now, staying at home all the time but knowing I should not go anywhere brings home the importance of freedom in everyday life. I hope others feel this way, too, but I have grown very concerned how some seem willing to trade freedom for perceived security.

~This is the best gas mileage I’ve ever gotten from a tank of gas in my whole life. Of course, my old, weak car battery gave out, so any savings from buying gas was gobbled up when I had to purchase a new battery.

~Hannah can be an eating machine. I never thought someone so petite could eat more than me during a day.

~That said, I am convinced more than ever after participating in video conference after video conference how the camera adds at least fifty pounds to my video image. Now, excuse me, the microwave just let me know my pimento cheese and buffalo chicken sandwich is ready.

~I miss seeing family. This includes my wife’s family who lives very close to us. I miss my blood family, too, as they are at a true distance. Just knowing traveling to see them is frowned on makes that absence more pronounced and makes the distance seem greater than what it is.

~I never thought I would ever give such consideration to washing my hands. We have been told to count to twenty with hands under warm, soapy water. Early on, I kept singing that line from the Beatles song "Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey," you know "Hands across the water, heads across the sky..." but I was having to sing it a dozen times just to last twenty seconds. I then moved on to the “Happy Birthday Song” but I grew tired of that since no cake was involved. “Jesus Loves Me” also made the song list. Meantime, I mostly just count while I wash my hands. I have counted to twenty. I have counted backward from twenty. I have counted to five four times. I have counted to ten then counted backward from ten. The last time I washed my hands I counted to forty by twos.

~Many of the things I planned to work on around the house on March 13 remain to be done. It is amazing how being in the same place all the time can sometimes freeze things in place.

~I miss the sweet chaos of how life was before all this came about. I’m glad though I am living through this new chaos with my wife and daughter.

Of course, there are other things I have observed during these past fifty days, much of it very disheartening. This situation is very serious and even though this post has hopefully been lighthearted not a day goes by where I am, in some way, sobered by the harsh realities of this devil sickness. I am dismayed how many now find themselves struggling financially because of sudden job loss. I don’t even want to mention how much of the media and many politicians have behaved and performed through all this. Much of all that has happened can deflate one’s spirit if it is dwelt on too long.

I have also observed how courageous many people are, especially those who brave the front lines in various medical fields. I have seen the ingenuity of good people who have made masks for others so that as many people as possible can protect themselves from this virus. I have seen teachers transform their classrooms into a form of virtual reality then trust parents with an underappreciated task. I have seen others do their jobs knowing they are in danger while also understanding the service they are providing. I have talked to my neighbors more, at a six-foot distance, of course. I have taken a short break from my workday, stepped on our deck, soaked in some sunshine and listened to the birds sing a springtime song.

As I write this, some of the things that have been closed are slowly returning to everyday life. It is still too early though to know when we can truly claim a win over this virus. That just means, tomorrow, God willing, we get up, we take a deep breath then we go about this new routine again as we pray for better days.

Stay well, I want us all to enjoy those better days.

30513: Progress and the Past, Revisited

Well over a year ago in this space, I mentioned how the highway running in front of the house where I grew up was to be worked on, improved and expanded. When those plans were revealed, it became clear that the state of Georgia would take a couple of edges of the property owned by my Mom and Dad. They were okay with this as they realized the benefit to having an improved and safer road was a good thing.

At that point realizing changes were coming to that plot of land I know as my childhood home, I began writing some about various memories associated with my hometown. I have not lived there now about half my whole life but at some level that place still speaks to me, still means something to me, and, still is, in some ways, home.

I am sure if I am able to keep writing, that place, and more importantly the people who make that place what it is, will reappear in paragraphs and sentences here, there and yonder. For now, though, I will put this series to rest.

You may ask though about the highway progress. Well, progress is slow. It really is slow when you rely on politicians to make sure the job gets done. That can be said for any side of any political aisle you wish to stand on. Add to that how these days any and every group of any imaginable way of thinking and believing is adamant how government is the only way to get things done their way whether that way is practical or effective and this just makes things bog down even more. Every body has their hand out to get them some of that tax money, and of course, government wants to please as many as they can.

The progress on the highway improvements remains about where it was when all those plans were announced. Sure, some places have been surveyed. Maybe some folks have had discussions with others about this or that. Mostly though, it all seems to be about where it was all those months ago. It really should make any one closely watching shake their head why anyone these days has any faith in promises made by politicians and can honestly believe government can keep it's own promises. Sweet words make you feel good. Promises kept and fulfilled make you sleep good.

So, when I go back there that highway is still as rough as a dried-out corn cob. Maybe, in time, it will get patched here and there. Maybe the politicians in downtown Atlanta will follow through on their vision, or whatever dressed-up word they want to use in place of the word 'promise' they made at some point. Maybe one of them has a brother-in-law who owns a bulldozer and some heavy equipment that can benefit from some state business. Maybe when the out-of-towners who move there get fed up with their BMWs dodging potholes while getting stuck behind Uncle Junior's tractor, something will be done. Yeah, they'll probably force Uncle Junior to park his tractor because slowly but surely those parts of what I remember from that place are disappearing into the horizon like the sun fades behind those mountains each day.

I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised at how slowly things like this move. It is still mostly a small town at heart. Things do move slower there. That slow pace can be beneficial. It sure would be nice though to have a smooth black-top surface with extra turning lanes to help handle the congested traffic no one there can escape any longer.

If this specific progress ever happens, I strongly doubt it will come within the lifetime of my parents. I am just cynical enough to suspect it might never come in mine either.

"The art of living in a small town is one of the most difficult to acquire."
~Doris Lessing

30513: Progress and the Past, Revisited playlist

Blackberry Smoke “One Horse Town"

Lee Ann Womack "The Story of My Life"

Bruce Springsteen "Valentine's Day"

Lone Justice "Wheels"

Marshall Tucker Band "Snowfall in Georgia"

Steve Earle "Hillbilly Highway"

Montgomery Gentry "My Town"

Joe Diffie "John Deere Green"

Charlie Worsham "Southern By The Grace of God"

John Mellencamp "Minutes to Memories"

Nanci Griffith "Going Back To Georgia"

Lucinda Williams "Sweet Old World"

Larry Cordle "Old Men"

Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers "Southern Accents"

Alan Jackson "Where I Come From"

Van Morrison "Georgia On My Mind"

Buddy Miller "Wide River To Cross"

Black Crowes "Remedy"

Jakob Dylan "Up On The Mountain"

Marc Broussard "Lonely Night In Georgia"

Linda Ronstadt "You Can Close Your Eyes"

Randy Newman "I Miss You"

R.E.M. "Oh My Heart"

Balsam Range "I Hear The Mountains"

30513 Memories: The Old Haunts

In my mind, I can still picture things like they were when I was much younger than now. Sometimes, when I think about those times, I miss the way it all was then, back in that 30513 zip code. After all, it will always be the place I call home in some way. Time, among other things, brings changes. It just can’t stay the same. Still, the memories linger, hanging on, haunting me in some ways.

Some things I miss are still there but just have a different purpose now. Today the downtown is a bustling series of streets overrun by out-of-towners and those who have relocated who weave their way from business to business looking for overpriced knick-knacks, gourmet coffee, custom beer, antiques they think date back to the reconstruction and for a menu that is still Southern but still somehow politically correct enough for their refined tastes. Yet, when I set foot on those same streets, I recall how my Mom shopped at the department stores in the summer to put my school clothes on lay-a-way for the fall. I remember trying on lace-up work boots to wear to school during the cold winters. I think back to times when I would go with my Dad to the hardware store to help him look for a tool or to locate a belt for the lawnmower. There were times I even went to the grand-looking bank on the corner with my parents. While they conducted business inside, they allowed me to cross the street to the drug store so I could look over the magazines on display there.

Some things I miss are still there but it's just that time has moved on from it or from me. The jewelry store where I bought my high school senior ring sits nestled in the downtown like it has for years. I have only been back there once or twice since then. The movie drive-in is still in business although it often seems crowded over with those who have never experienced the thrill of watching a movie on an enormous outdoor screen. Ironically enough, the movie theater that opened while I was a teenager closed years back. At my age it also doesn't seem like the most logical thing to do would be to drive to Tilley Bend church after midnight to walk the cemetery armed only with a flashlight and courage just to see if any ghostly figures appear.

Some of what I miss is just no longer there any longer. This is the human element of all this. Every small town has its own cast of unique characters. I miss the ones I knew, some whose names I recall and some I can only remember by what they looked like back in that day and time. Of course in a small town, you find most of us are related in some way, through blood or marriage. There are those of that number I miss as well. Some of those I miss have moved elsewhere, some have moved on to their reward. Some of them were family. Some were just like family. I miss the neighbors you could trust with your life. I miss the family members who had your back no matter what. I miss the friends who understood what you were thinking even before you could verbalize it.

When things change, they are replaced with new memories. That is fine. That is how it all works. Still, the old haunts hold a place that can still make me happy from time to time when I run across their memory. Now, when I am back there in this place that can only be described as somewhere between Mayberry and Twin Peaks, and I drive through, I see what exists now, but I also see what once was, a ghost of the place I once knew.

30513 Memories: The Old Haunts Playlist

James Taylor "Our Town"
Warren Zevon "Keep Me In Your Heart"
Steve Earle "Someday"
George Harrison "All Those Years Ago"
Smashing Pumpkins "1979"
Deanna Carter "Strawberry Wine"
Mark Wills "19 Somethin'"
Fleetwood Mac "Landslide"
Bruce Hornsby and the Range "Across The River"
Paul Anka "Times of Your Life"
Darryl Worley "I Miss My Friend"
Rosanne Cash and Bobby Bare "No Memories Hangin' 'Round"
Dream Academy "Life In A Northern Town"
Dire Straits "Telegraph Road"
Simon and Garfunkel "Old Friends"
Gram Parsons "Brass Buttons"
Jim Croce "Photographs and Memories"
Five For Fighting "100 Years"
Jack Johnson "Go On"
Alan Jackson "Small Town Southern Man"
Mary Chapin Carpenter "I Am A Town"
The Allman Brothers Band "Revival"
The White Stripes "We Are Going To Be Friends"
Iris Dement "Our Town"