Where I grew up, we had red clay dirt roads and fireflies
Where I grew up, there was blackberries in every ditch and ants in the sugar bowl.
Where I grew up, my grannies porch swing could take me anywhere; the higher it swung, the farther I could go…
Where I grew up, there was old pick-up trucks, John Deere tractors and lightning bugs.
There was peanut fields, cotton fields, soybean fields and softball fields.
Where I grew up, we had our very own environmental disaster at the paper mill; where anybody that is somebody works, or has worked…
14 people have died there in 3 years….
But, it still kills fish and smells likes money and shit.
The trees still keep falling….
Where I grew up, I was another person.
I moved away to find my fortune, because there was nothing for me here.
Now I am back, and it has everything that I ever wanted.
Funny how time flies and memories die….
My home town.
Appalachicola oysters, cold beer and a tailgate; traditional, standard, expected fare.
Pool halls, juke joints and parking lot fights; if we were lucky, the girls would tear each other’s halter-tops off….
No beer sales on Sunday, unless you’re related to somebody that knows somebody that runs a store with a back door….
I’m back home, and not much has changed.
They’ve closed a store or two, and Mr. Fred died…..Y’all know him, he owned Smitty’s Grill. Yeah, the one that invented coronary blockage and arterial plaque.
Great burgers though….worth it.
Mr. Pip’s truck stop still has no parking, hardly, and the location sucks, but they have awesome cooks.
I came back for the Mayhaw jelly and hoe-cakes.
I came back for the humidity and freaking gnats.
I came back because it was calling me;
My home town.
I have friends and relatives that have never left, stayed close to home.
They ain’t seen what I’ve seen and they could give a crap.
“If I wanted to see New York City, I’d be living there wouldn’t I?”
“Why in the hell you wanna go live someplace else, you ain’t got no business messin’ with them folks out there”
I guess they was right, after all….
I don’t think I should have ever left….
I’m home now…
It’s been awhile.
Sorry I left…..
Pass the jelly.
Oh, Pete White died and they paved a highway over where his store was…
No more RC Colas with salted peanuts in it….
I guess all of the crop dusting and pest spray killed them all.
The peanut fields look good….but, they’re awful quiet; should be hearing crickets and frogs…
I can still smell the paper-mill in the morning when the fog is low and heavy and the humidity drips from the pine trees that will soon be cut down to make a card-board box.
I’m home now…
I’m glad it stayed the same, mostly; at least what’s valuable to me…