Stick with me for a moment. Let me take you through a little dream sequence to start this thing out. Picture this…..
A hot, muggy summer morning in a rural, nearly one family neighborhood, in Southwest Alabama. A small fan is sitting in a chair, trying its best to blow a breeze on a young boy lying in a twin bed in a small bedroom. The house is quiet except for the rumbling around of his older sister who has awoke in the room beside him. The boy gets up, puts on some shorts that, in this day in fashion, would have been considered girl shorts because of their length, and a shirt that was passed down from one of his cousins. Within a few minutes, the door from the outside hallway opens and the kid’s mother walks into the house, ready to make them breakfast, consisting of a piece of chicken, a reused plastic butter bowl of cereal, and a glass of sweet tea.
Within a few minutes, the boy, along with his family, are sitting on the front porch of his grandparents’ house shelling peas that his mother had helped them pic an hour or two earlier. Moments later, the metal foot tub is empty, the paper bags are full of hulls, the large dish pan is full of fresh peas, and the boys fingers and thumbs are purple from the hulls he has rubbed. He knows there will be more to do later……….
That’s a normal summer morning in my early childhood. Those were the days when everything was simple; you went along with the flow of time. It was a simple place where nothing else was expected. It is missed, but as we are accustomed, never forgotten. Our past doesn’t always foretell our futures, but our memories of the past help us to not repeat mistakes and to remember who we are and what we need to become.
Sound familiar to you? Well, you were raised in the country, my friend. You were raised to see the beauty of creation, from the smallest drop of well water to the largest oak or pine tree. You were taught that when you happen to pass someone, you said, “Good evenin’!” You knew when an older person asked you a question, you said, “Yes, ma’am” or “No, sir.” If not, you got a swift kick in the rear from either your mom or dad…whichever one was closer at the time. You knew how wonderful it was to lie on the ground during the day, making out shapes of passing clouds or lie on the hood of the car, staring at the millions of stars visible in the dark of night. The country life….it’s what you made it and you are what it formed.
I hope this blog and the accompanying podcast (when it begins) will enlighten you on the country life I lived and what I love. It will seem weird to many that a 31 year old gay man, living north of Atlanta, GA, will be interested in dirt roads, Auburn football, high school football, being in nature in creeks and streams, fishing, hiking, camping, and even hunting sometimes being of interest. I may not be a hunter myself, but you better believe I can eat deer as if I will never taste it again. It does not taste like chicken…thank God!
I want to cover everything that interests me. I have such a broad spectrum of interests. Luckily, I have some friends that will be helping me along the way cover each one. They may not know it now, but when they get a call, they will shortly after! LOL! Thanks to my friends ahead of time!
There’s no time like the present for me to shut the hell up and get this thing going.