You wanted a blow-by-blow account of my trip to “my hometown,” didn’t you?
I should begin by saying I don’t have a hometown. We moved too much (Army), and any place that might have been home isn’t because I have no familial connections remaining (though I do shout out to Susan B, in case she’s reading, because she occasionally e-mails me news about our former classmates and friends, and she’s a sweetheart, and also to Nick, who needs to know that no, I will NOT vote for McCain).
In this little area nestled in north Alabama among the Appalachian foothills, I sort-of have three “hometowns.”
There’s the city within whose limits existed the rock house we lived in when we first moved here. The house is gone, and I’m pretty sure the motel I’m in was built on its former location. I’d give up my room (where Tom is still snoring and Aaron’s cell phone is alerting him of text messages while he sleeps) for the rock house still to exist.
Then we moved to the small town where I went to school with the same people for almost five years–a record!–and where Lynne and Riley and I met and became friends and got into ten million kinds of trouble (no regrets!). I haven’t driven there yet, but I will, to see certain houses and to visit the graves of Lynne’s parents. Now that Riley is dead, Lynne’s sister and brother-in-law are the only people here who are part of my “adopted” family.
Finally, there’s the town with one flashing light–Not even a stop light! Didn’t it used to be a stoplight?!?–where I finished high school. I drove through it this morning after a quick trip to the cemetery to make sure my father’s still there (he is). And yeah, the houses are smaller than I remember them, but the roads are also prettier than I ever appreciated–HILLS AND CURVES–and if you asked me for directions anywhere, I couldn’t give them, but I can drive by memory to every place I want to go.
Some things have changed and some things haven’t. I kept getting out and shooting pictures when suddenly I realized: You were only going to dash to the cemetery. You didn’t take a shower or brush your hair or put on makeup. HELLO!
It would be bad enough to see anyone I knew who could say, “Jesus, she’s as big as a house.” But I don’t have to make it easy for them to whip out their cell phones and say, “She didn’t have on makeup and SHE WASN’T WEARING A BRA.”
Fortunately, all the people I saw driving around were old, and since I’m only thirty-five, they probably don’t know me. Nonetheless, I rushed back here to the motel to clean up a little, and now I’m going to find a florist.
Don’t worry. I went to the hill with the flagpole where I used to prance in my Color Guard uniform and boss people around and took a photo. Thank goodness Lindsey loaned me her camera, right?
Oh, I can’t wait for more of these, Becky!!
Oh man… listen to you. You’re touching “the red earth of Tara” and it suits you. Envious! And here’s a little purple, just ’cause you’re cool. : )
I am so glad to have come to this today… I miss you guys terribly.
Can’t wait for more of these, and of course, for the photos. 🙂
Susan B. Anthony sends you emails?
Um…you mean…she doesn’t mail you?
She doesn’t send emails, but she sends me dollar coins that I keep mistaking for quarters. It’s annoying, actually. If you talk to her again, tell her the send the greenbacks.
Glad you’re getting some nostalgia exploring done. I hear that’s fun.
and when I get there there will be pictures OF you not just BY you…
when are you going to post the pics????
Lindsey is a kind person.
She is kind. And no photos of me! Big as a house, remember?
Braless? Becky, you are the last person I expected to post a Hooty McBoob entry! How tittilating!
Please keep us abreast of the situation
PS If I could have worked “melons” into this note I would have … but it just didn’t work. I really just wanted to say Hooty McBoob
Since she’s in Alabama, you COULD have asked the Braless One (tramp!) ‘did you get any waterMELONS at a roadside stand?’
You know how people do the LOL thing abd don’t mean it? … I really did just LOL… HA!
What do you mean, they don’t mean it?
Suddenly, my life no longer has any meaning….
LMAO… totally insincere, at best i chuckled
I’ll never believe another LOL from you or anyone ever again.
What further disillusions can I expect from you?
Becks is right. You ARE evil.
“Hooty McBoob”
You have no idea how hard I just laughed at this. I mean i am still laughing my ass off.
ahhh… but do you mean it?
Very much so…the cat is still staring at me like I am crazy.
One question…is there a Piggly Wiggly in town? Before I die I have to visit a Piggly Wiggly. Don’t know why really. I think I just like the way Jessica Tandy says it in Driving Miss Daisy.
Nothing beats the Piggly Wiggly … I loved him…. and the Bunny Bread Rabbit … who is still around, but doesn’t talk in commercials any more
They have a website where you can order Mr Pig T-shirts.
OMG, that’s so funny. Last night as we were driving through the hurricane (I exaggerate, but not by much), I was composing a post in my head that said, “I know I’m in the South because the waitress asked Tom if he wanted sweet or unsweet tea and because there’s a Piggly Wiggly truck spraying water on us.”
Viva la Pig!
When you finally visit Nashville, We’ll drive up to Franklin, KY and go to the Piggly Wiggly.
Now I have “Sentimental Journey” in my head.
Can’t wait to see your pics!
Did you know that was one of my parents’ songs they danced to? It’s on the “mix CD” I played in my mother’s hospice room. =)
ramble on! please!
Aw–thanks. =)
Sounds as if you’re having a great time – nothing like a bit of nostalgia . . .
I love this story…
I gotta million of ’em.
This is a propos of nothing you’ve written (in this post, that is). But I had to share the following post from another Livejournal friend:
http://miss-geek.livejournal.com/2016411.html
I think you’ll understand why!
VERY cool. =) Thanks.