Friday, June 17, 2011

the dark place

Ya'll know the one. It's where everything seems bigger than life like a cartoon but not funny right now. Maybe later...that's happens a lot :) Having spent plenty of time there myself I try to understand when somebody else is stuck there kinda' like in purgatory. I remember the pain, always, when I begin to get the least bit cocky with my smartass self lest I dare to think that it's all about me. Because, well. It's about ALL of us, ya'll. Fortunately I was raised in an atmosphere where a respect for the rights of other races was instilled in my soul at a time when not many southerners bought into that philosophy. I mean, my grandparents had household help and played bridge. Yikes!

As an elementary school student I watched the county kids vacate every October to pick cotton while I sat there (a county kid, but not the cotton picking kind) wishing I was outside. My principal Mr. Bruce said that I had one of the highest IQ scores he'd seen, but that I wasted it by looking out the window at what was going on outside. I managed to not study much at all and still be an average student which is all that's required. Greatness comes later in some form or another. It may not be at all what you studied for or were good at but inspiration which eventually reveal your "inner" occupation. I'm not sure about mine yet..I mean I don't know how I'll make time to build a nursery and write a book plus turn this farm into a place on the national historic registry. Maybe I could consolidate all that. But knowing me, I'll procrastinate until it's the night before some big deadline and there I'd be freaking out. NOT the least organized, ya'll. I seriously need a personal assistant.

My psychoanalytical side knows that procrastination is often a passive aggressive move, but with me it's really not. I've just lived long enough to realize that taking on too much can be hard on an old gal and doom every piece of the plan to fall like a house of cards. When the time is right, I'll know. One of my co-workers remarked at the time clock this afternoon that "I'm sick to death of a week by the time friday comes!" Amen, sista.

One of my greatest guilty pleasures is watching Weeds and slapping the furniture over whatever Botwin's crew has going on. I was curious about the creator and googled her the other day to find that she's a very talented woman and mother. I can't help it ya'll...there is something so hilarious about Kevin Nealon that I just can't stop laughing. He's one of my SNL comedy crushes. All the men of my dreams are funny guys now.

My wild single life, per se, was spent mostly backed up by a caring eccentric bunch of folks who hung out in the kudzu at the bar. I've been in there at every time of the day or night, and always felt at home like somebody was watching my back. My favorite times were when I'd go there after work and throw back a few with my friends while catching up on gossip and bar drama. There was only one single time when I thought things were about to go up like a gas fire, and it was on a weekend night and the owner and bouncers snuffed it out quickly. Terry and Bev were there for years after Geno gave it up to do farming and stay closer to home. Beverly sings like an angel,doing great covers that span a wide vocal range. She eventually got tired of the bar life and left it to Terry and the karaoke people to carry on. One night this week, he went airborne and had a terrible wreck, landing him in critical condition at a trauma center in Memphis. Things are still looking grim, and all of his friends and family are worried not only about him but her as well. There have been a lot of great friendships made in that place....the ones that last a lifetime.

Over and out from Pecan Lane and TGIF ^j^

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