My wife is as country as a butterbean. Growing up on a farm outside of Chattanooga, she epitomizes was it means to come from Smalltown, USA. Amanda comes from a place where “Out yonder” can mean any distance, “Up the road” can mean down the street, over a mountain and across a county, and “Around the corner” involves any number of turns but is almost never just around one corner.
I love driving through her town as she points out all of what she remembers, who lives where, what they did back then, what they are up to now, who their parents are, what their children are doing. It just makes me smile to listen to all of the stories.
She will say,
“There’s Mrs. Whatshername’s house where my mom used to take the fabric to get my clothes made.”
“There is Johnny Iforget’s house who built that smaller house behind it so that his son and his wife could move in and then they built that third house for his grandkids as they grew up.”
“Ricky Soandso lives there, he used to call my parents whenever I would drive too fast around that corner.”
“That’s where Jonny Footballguy lives. Everyone wanted to date him in high school but he didn’t pay me any attention.” (Well, you sure fouled that one up, didn’t you Johnny?)
“That’s the courthouse where Judge Somebody presided….we used to get our tires changed at his auto shop right down the street.”
Amanda comes from a city where nothing ever changes except the fact that nothing has stayed the same. It’s a gradual occurrence. There is so much of the small town feel that it seems as if nothing is happening while all the while, the wheels of change are perpetually spinning around.
I know the feeling that comes with the belief that nothing will ever change but it’s never true. Everything changes, all the time. The only real determining factor in the speed at which things change is my actions and the energy I put into them.
I love the drive through my wife’s hometown and the memories that she shares about in a city where nothing ever changes but nothing has stayed has stayed the same….
…except for bail bondsmen and baseball fields. If there is going to be life in a small town, you gotta have a bail bondsman and a baseball field.
Peace, Love, and all things Beef related,