Serendipidy-do-da

After last week, I really wanted to write something funny.  I can't explain it, but nothing funny happened this week.  I had tons of material.  The Bent Tree Singles at my house.  There's a laugh a minute.  I worked at my volunteer job two days and met some very unusual folks not to mention the regulars.  My ex husband called and said he loved me and he might just show up one day on my door step and say "I'm back".  Nothing. Nada.  So I had to look around me and try to find out what this week was about.  This is what I realized. I got an unexpected gift. The definition of serendipity is to discover things unexpected.  The old silver lining kind of discovery. The key word here is unexpected.  I am not a big believer in the value of television.  But this week within the limited framework of television land I made a serendipitous discovery.  Over the course of the last few days I watched as Scotty McCreery became America's Idol. I saw Oprah say goodbye after 25 years of trying to solve all our problems.  I watched John Rich win Celebrity Apprentice and talk about it on Ellen.  I watched the Blues Brothers for the l00th time.  During those hours I spent mindlessly watching these shows, shows which have become icons for America's Pop Culture, I discovered what is wrong with our country. Its depression.  I bet during those few shows and the six o'clock news I saw 20 or more commercials for anti-depressants.  And also if you watch the commercials,  you realize that the people who are depressed have been that way for so long that their medication no longer is working and they are looking for new medications to take. I guess I really noticed this because I also had a few conversations with people whom I love and care about who are depressed. I have always thought of depression as sadness but it hit me that depression isn't sadness,  although the people effected are definitely sad.  What they really seem to be suffering from is disappointment.  Underlying that sadness there's a sense within those people that their lives have not gone as they expected. Again there's a form of that word, expected. We have such high expectations in our culture.  We expect to be a certain way, have things happen a certain way, look a certain way.  And yet it almost never turns out as we expect.  Life throws us a tornado, or a curve or worst, we die in one like the motorcyclist last week. But the good thing, the true serendipitous discovery was not that we are plagued with depression.  Instead it was that there is a cure for it.  In watching the stupid TV this week, I heard over and over that you can not be depressed and grateful at the same time. It won't work.  Even the Blue Brothers were trying to do something for someone else.  The news was even covering how people all over the place are helping each other out due to the tornadoes. And they were counting their blessings to be alive and with their families. If you are counting your blessings, you don't have time to dwell on your disappointments.  I am not a psychiatrist, I may need one, but I not one.  But if I can figure this out, why aren't others looking at it and saying it.  Maybe they are and I just haven't been listening.   This week I did.  And I am counting that as a blessing.

The End of the World As We Know It

Yesterday the world did not come to an end.  At 6 PM all around the country, the world,  life went on exactly as it had on most Saturdays in May.  In the North Georgia Mountains it was warm and sunny and the humidity failed to develop as threatened.  I had a group over for dinner and  put up a tent in the yard with Christmas lights and candles. As a group we did toast the fact that life went on, but other than that, no one seemed to notice or care that a group of people somewhere sat waiting for the rapture that did not come. To go along with pasta salad and fruit salad and salmon salad and every kind of summer food you can think of, I wanted to serve Vodka Punch.  The only problem was that I did not have the Vodka to put the punch in my punch so I had to drive into Jasper to the liquor store. When I went out the back gate a helicopter was landing in the old cemetery yard adjacent to my neighborhood.  I turned and headed down one of the beautiful winding roads that run though these mountains.  A jeep was coming in the other direction and the driver's hand was out motioning for me to go back.  As we passed each other he told me that there was a bad wreck ahead, in the sharp curve by a bridge running over a bubbling mountain stream.  One side of the road is mountain and trees and the other a gorgeous green pasture always complete with 20 or so horses. Very picturesque.  I turned around and took the long way into town, passing again where the helicopter was landing. Noting the cross on the side indicating as I feared that it was there to pick up someone. After making my purchase of the cheapest Vodka, having been told it doesn't matter when mixed with a bottle of white wine and orange, berry, pomegranate and pineapple juice, I started home. The road was still blocked due to the wreck.  I started to turn around in the street when a truck pulled up behind me. A young woman, under 30, jumped out.  Her hair was a fright and she had on flip-flops and looked like she'd rushed out without looking at herself. She ran to my car asking if I knew "Was it a motorcycle? Was it someone on a motor?". I told her I didn't know but had seen the copter. I watched as she ran down the hill toward the sharp curve and as she reached the trooper standing in the road, she stopped, screamed and fell to the ground. As I turned the car around, two small children, a little boy maybe 6 and a girl a little older, stuck there heads out the truck and began to yell "Daddy, Daddy". A woman in the truck came around to the center of the lane and began to make a call on her cell.  The children's faces were streaming with tears and their voices continued raised in such anguish that I almost couldn't stand to listen. I stopped and asked if I could help but she shook her head, "I'm calling my husband". I knew I could offer no comfort for what those children were to face. The offer of a stranger would not make a difference for them at that moment.  No gum or sucker or kind word would matter but I said I was sorry through my own tears. I  have since heard that for their daddy, that day, the world did come to an end and those children's lives will never be the same. On a beautiful sunny day, in the blink of an eye.

Who Said Sex and Politics Don't Mix, Nobody

Is it me, or do any of you seem to notice that you can't watch TV without hearing about some man cheating on his wife or doing something totally inappropriate to some poor woman? I mean I know this cheating thing has had a long shelf life.  I have no doubt cave men did it and it started pretty early on in the Bible and has continued steady since then, but it seems lately to be taking down someone almost every week. I don't know if Bill Clinton just made it so acceptable that men think its cool and they can get away with it. Or are men  just getting dumber and getting caught more often.  Really the truth be known, I think the Internet and 24 hr News TV have put so many predators out there watching every move we make that men who are doing something dirty are just gonna' get their butts caught. And there are plenty of women chasing a buck who will go after a buck stupid enough to chase them.  This week it was the Governator and the President of the IMF.  Now these men are not chipped beef.  They were well known and pretty highly respected men and now both are taking a big tumble. And not just into bed. One will probably go to jail, the other to divorce court. It has been amazing to watch Jennifer Aniston, lose Brad, and Sandra Bullock be cheated on by her husband with something that looked like it came out of a horror show. If those two can't keep their husbands at home, what chance does some lowly woman from Alabama stand.  Look what happened to poor Elizabeth Edwards. That South Carolina Governor, Mark Sanford's brave and intelligent wife, got the boot for a crazy foreigner who was married to someone else. A Senator a month falls and takes a Congressman with him. If I find out Governor Haley Barbour in Mississippi  and Mike Huckabee are cheating, I'm gonna' shoot myself. I would drop a Democrat's name here also but I can't think of one who talks about being moral.  I don't know what this world is coming to when beautiful and sexy women like Jennifer and Sandra have to have their private lives racked over the coals because of some floozy.  But more importantly, I am sick to my stomach hearing about what politicians are doing in their or another's bedroom.  I don't want to know where Arnold did it and with whom. I sure don't want the details of "how mistress got pregnant". Didn't we learn that in Jr. High? Kennedy cheated and we didn't have read every gorrie detail.  I prefer it that way.  I want to know what they intend to do about jobs, gas prices and taxes and the debt.  Please do not tell me anything else about the who, what and the where of their sex lives. I think they are scumbags but for now that's what we have elected and I just want them to get out of bed, get to work and fix our country.

North Georgia Wildlife

Lets talk irony.  Last post I made fun of people way up here in North Georgia buying stuff with bears on it, and wow! this morning I saw my first bear of the season.  OK, you must admit though that buying that stuff made in China is different that having to stop your car and wait for a few hundred pounds of black fur to walk across the street, right in front of you.  This was one big old boy and he had traffic stopped in both directions.  A real traffic jam. Of course, in my neighborhood that means, two cars, but still it is exciting to see them up close and personal.  A couple of months ago we culled the deer in our neighborhood and since then our wildlife has seemed different.  I still see deer, all the time.  But they are a  little more skittish and not quite as "friendly".  It caused a firestorm of complaints and upset but I could see both sides of the issue.  When asked my opinion I always just used my one liner. "Heck, I'm from Alabama, we shoot and eat everything in Alabama".  I love seeing the deer and it was one of the things that attracted me to my neighborhood. After a while though, you kinda' get used to it, but I don't think I will ever get used to the big, black bears that roam our mountains.  I have heard that there's a mother up in a higher elevation that has twins.  I saw that two years ago and would really like a chance to see it again.  The cubs are so cute and its hard to resist the temptation to feed them.  But with a momma around you don't get too close. It is wonderful to live some where that you do see nature and wildlife all around you.  Last night my girlfriends were coming up from Atlanta and we had planned to head into town for a different kind of wildlife, most of which I think would make the bear seem tame and well coiffured. Bluegrass, barbeque and beer. That's North Georgia. Our plans though were cancelled at the last minute once again leaving me the chance to say "I have rarely been out past 9:00 P.M. since moving here". My record is holding.

A Kind Word is a Soltice to the Wounded Heart

Today I worked at Burnt Mountain Trading Company here in Jasper where I have my antique booth.  I can't say that I have a thriving business but until the last couple of months, I had been encouraged that something good would happen there.  I read that the economy is improving and I wonder what world the writers and forecasters live in. Its not the one here in the North Georgia Mountains where I sit and take up money for trinkets and anything that has a bear on it.  We have double digit unemployment.  I sometimes find myself thinking of another life I had, a life that seemed more interesting and fun.  Certainly more profitable. I think of my life, my shop in Fairhope, Alabama.  My shop sat on the busiest corner in downtown right by the clock on the square in what I often call the Carmel of the South. Everything about Fairhope was lovely.  Flowers everywhere and Christmas lights until after Mardi Gras. In my shop I would feel special and interesting and almost pretty just because of the the beauty all around me.  I loved the interaction with celebrity customers like Fanny Flagg and Dolly Parton. Mrs. Fob James, the governor's wife often stopped in while visiting at the Grand Hotel. I loved telling them about Fairhope and my shop.  The interest they showed.  Even the customers who were not famous but just worldly and sophisticated made me feel that way. I'm not the snob I sound like, it was just a wonderful way of life that is gone for me. And no one had a full, long beard or bought items with bears on them.  But today someone came in Burnt Mountain that reminded me of the best part of being in a shop, a retail business.  Its the people, the customers you meet. The interesting customer today was a beautiful blond from Buckhead who carried the most delicate miniature poodle on her arm. "Precious" had a rhinestone collar and a blue ribbon in her hair.  You might have thought she was a toy dog except for the sparkle in her eyes and the way she tilted her head when spoken to.  She was a service dog to the couple.  The pretty lady's husband had suffered a series of stokes that made it difficult for him to walk but not to speak and we talked and joked of a better time for both of us. As the pretty lady left and I said my goodbyes, she called to her husband in the kindest of ways, "Come on sweet boy, we need to beat the traffic back to Atlanta". Sweet boy was well into his 70s and maybe much older.  But the pretty lady who spoke so sweetly to him and to me, could have been talking to a child or the most handsome of men, either way it touched you to hear her voice. In the few minutes we talked she had complimented me twice and her "darling" husband three times. I didn't envy her because I knew her life was difficult caring for him and she said that they had never had children to share this with. Instead I envied him that he heard her kindness every day of his life at a time when it must have sounded so comforting. And she had stayed with him during a time when others might have faltered and run from the trials they faced. I will try harder to speak the way she did today.  And should I ever have a sweet boy again, he will hear that love in my voice that I heard in hers. Some times it really is a blessing just to get up even if its to sell another black bear from China.

I Saw Mommy Kissing Santy Clause?

OK, I know I exaggerate sometimes.  But this is not one of those times.  One of the girls I work out with suggested someone that I might want to meet.  I listened as she described him in detail.  All the way down to the automobile he drives.  I am not a car person.  I love convertibles and old trucks.  That's as far as I go. But even I knew his automobile upon description.  She wanted to fix me up with Santa.  I don't know if he is the real Santa or not.  My guess is....possibly.  Now I want to describe him to you and you make up your mind.  You may even vote on it or email me and say I should go out with him.  I do love Christmas probably as much as anyone and I come from a long line of  people who use large colored lights, wooden cuts outs of snowmen, standing by Baby Jesus in the manger, with carolers, a sleigh and reindeer and any and every over the top decor during the season but still....I am very doubtful that this could be a match.  He's a big man, at least 6 feet in height.  He is robust to say the least.  He has a belly that shakes like a bowl full of something.  He has rosy cheeks.  He has a long white beard, long, white, beard. Remember we are talking living here in Jasper.  He drives a red pick 'um up truck.  At Christmas time he actually had reindeer painted on the side of it. And antlers. Now don't get me wrong I love those cute little ones you can buy on line with the red nose deal that you take off when its New Years, but I'm talking painted on the side of your truck.  Every time I have seen him, he is in red.  He has red suspenders.  Once last year I was lunching with a friend in Canton who will remain nameless, but she knows who she is, and we saw this man (or his twin, triplet, who knows how many there are) and his two brothers. All dressed in red and with long white beards having lunch with their dates. I will mention that the women did not look like Mrs. Santa but who knows it might be like the movie where if you marry Santa or even date him, you might start to grow white hair yourself. Robust I am trying to avoid.  That's why I was at the gym.  I am sure he is a good guy. Even the Potato Queens must love Santa. Of course, to be honest, one night a year could be enough. Its more than I have had lately.  And I am sure I would get good presents because he would know what I wanted.  I would make the nice list for sure. And it might be hard to be naughty with that belly. Its an option I am keeping open.

Spuds on Studs

I am an avid reader.  Not always do I read the classics, you know.  Sometimes I read trash.  I have just finished the "Sweet Potato Queens' Divorce Guide".  Last week I read "Sweet Potato Queens' Guide to Men".  Both seem to take the view that there are two kinds of men out there, Good or Bad.  Most of the good ones are married to someone else, dead or gay. This latest guide book was actually two sided.  The other side is the "Sweet Potato Queens' Wedding Guide".  It is refreshing to know that most women understand that one of these events usually leads to the other. Especially southern women of a certain age.  This, of course, is not a new phenomenon though. And it is certainly not just a southern tradition.  I'm sure you will remember the line in my favorite holiday classic "Its A Wonderful Life" where Jimmy Stewart's maid brings him the money she has been saving when she realizes he is in trouble.  She says "I've been saving it in case I get a husband, so I can get me a divorce" or something close.  That's 50 years old and women even then where looking at the future with Mr. Right as maybe Mr. Right Now but Who Knows.  Obviously the author, Jill Conner Browne, has seen that what goes up, often goes down, and that is often true in marriage. Her advice is advice to live by.  One day you will look back on this divorce and laugh.  Its the only hope for any of us.  And if we are gonna' laugh about it sooner or later, well, sooner is better. So laugh now.  Some days I find that all that has happened to me is absolutely hilarious.  Some days it makes my head hurt.  After reading the Divorce Guide I am convinced that more people than you can shake a stick at are having some weird things happen to them on the way to the divorce court.  Maybe I am more normal than not. Normal is not something to strive for.  The gay couple I work for seem to have just as many difficulties as the straight couples I know.  I wonder that if they are not married, will they have to divorce if the problems become tragedies.  And if they do, will it be full of one liners and funny events also.  They are vacationing in France for three weeks.  I will have to write myself a note so that I can remember to ask them when they return. Obviously they are not saving their money for a divorce. Lucky them. Maybe I should write the "Gay Couples Guide to Divorce and/or Breaking Up Depending on Which State You Live In".  If its a hit, I can go to France, too.