Big Fish, Small Pond

as published in The Pickens County Progress on Thursday, April 26, 2012

Apartment life is close-knit. I have a breezy mountain view. I decorated the deck with wind chimes. Tree frogs sing at night. I sleep on a twin bed in the dining room, with three Chihuahuas and a 25 lb. cat. My daughter has the bedroom. I beg her, “Please take your cat! He’s yours!”

“I can’t, Mom! He snores.”

However cramped it is, sleeping in the dining room is convenient. If I get hungry, I can open the refrigerator without getting out of bed.

My neighbors seemed to like me just fine, until I saw what they named their home network: Lady_Your_Wind_Chimes_Suck So I put a rubber band around the pipes.

Can it be six years since we moved to Pickens County? We thought it was jaw-dropping gorgeous. And everyone was incredibly generous. On her first day at the middle school, they gave my daughter a baby pig. It didn’t ride the bus home. The pig stayed at school.

“The barn smells!” She cried.

“That’s fresh country air!” I lied.

Now she’s about to graduate from PHS. Looking back, I hope she’ll appreciate why we moved her here. Where we came from, there was a shortage of coon hounds and swimming holes. And they served Coca-Cola in plastic instead of glass.

We found in the city, there were more kids than clubs. Here there are more clubs than kids. Pickens County teachers must negotiate on who-gets-which-student-for-which-club-on-what-day. So if she wants to, one student can belong to every club.

Once, we saw a cheerleader put down her pom-poms and march in the band at halftime. Now, that’s a full resume!

These last few years have not been easy, but I’m thankful to have spent them here. Every time I go out, I see a familiar face. A single parent cannot feel alone here.

That means everything to someone, who has no one.

"The Wright Stuff" ... things you learn outside the classroom

As published in The Pickens County Progress on Thursday, April 19, 2012

I was a good girl until a bad girl moved in next door. She was my polar opposite: I was shy and she wasn’t. The only thing we had in common was being teenagers, displaced from the city to the country. It was the worst thing ever. I said I’d never do that to my kids, and ended up doing it anyway when we move to Pickens County. But I came to believe it was the best thing ever, and hope they will too.

Backing up to 1978, right away, the new girl had me skipping class and floating on a tire-tube in Lake Lanier. We did other things too, involving shaving cream, toilet paper, warm beer, Tide, and municipal fountains. So for litigious reasons, it would be wiser to refer to her as simply “K. Wright.”

In my 1978 Yearbook, K. wrote:

“Bettina, we’ve had some great times doing stuff all those places we can’t mention (but you know what I’m talking about). I hope you get Kurt over the summer, or it might be that he gets you! Even though he is a little wild. And I say he is ugly but I really think he is a doll. And if I’m lucky I might be able to get Kevin. He is A-1 FOXY!”

 Now, I don’t remember Kevin, but he must’ve been tall, because K. and I were both amazons. It was our mission in life to find cute, flat shoes so we wouldn’t be taller than our dates. (I am still on that mission.) We were so tall, the cheerleaders and drill team didn’t want us. That summer we wasted practicing for tryouts can never be recovered. We were READY!! O.K.!! for them, but they weren’t ready for us.

K. taught me how to wear makeup, and how to pump gas. And she had good sense. Before she got involved with a boy, we spied on him for a week. Just to see if he was single, employed, and nice to his parents. Because Facebook wasn’t around yet, we conducted field research. In fields. Once, a bull chased us up a tree. The boy we were spying on jabbed at our legs with his deer rifle. He asked what we were doing. K. told him, exactly. And they dated for 6 months, in a row!

K. taught me a lot. For instance, the Wright way to wear make-up is to look like you aren’t. And pumping gas is easy. Smile at the stone fox pumping gas next to you. Smile until your teeth hurt. If he’s got a brain in his head, he’ll introduce himself. You can slip him your phone number. It’s o.k., he’s a nice guy. You know this, because you’ve been spying on him for a week.

"I Love You, Clint Eastwood!" as published in The Pickens County Progress on April 12, 2012

“I looked, and there before me was a pale horse! Its rider was named Death, and Hades was following close behind him.”   Revelation 6:8   NIV 1984

I love you, Clint Eastwood!

I was a hyper little kid. Mom parked me in front of the TV, while she lay down with a cool rag on her forehead. It seemed harmless enough, leaving me with heroes like Andy Griffith and Carol Burnett. When the show was over, I went outside to play.

The year I got married, Pale Rider came out. It was my first time seeing Clint Eastwood command a big screen. It’s mesmerizing, waiting for a line to slip out of his mouth, as clues flicker across his other body parts.

(He could straddle a stool and read the Chinese phone book, and I’d watch with undivided attention).

So my new husband and I found something we could afford to do. We were too poor to own furniture, but we darn sure had a TV/VCR. We camped out on the rug watching all of Clint’s movies.

Pale Rider is a classic. I like the Bible-verse reference. His character is rich and diverse; he’s a reformed gunslinger, turned preacher. And he saves the good people from the bad ones. The grateful heroine asks: “Who are you? Who are you … really?” He answers, “Well, it doesn’t really matter, does it?” and rides off into Idaho’s Sawtooth National Park.

Nobody can fence him in. The “offbeat hero” has a lesson: It doesn’t matter who you are. It’s what you do that counts. And Clint always, always does the right thing.

That electronic babysitter is still around. We know where our kids aren’t. They aren’t playing in real life. They’re pale little rug rats, holed up indoors, wired to unsavory heroes.

I say, run them outside … right smack dab into the spores and pollen. Better still, take them to town. Maybe you’ll see Clint, ordering a sarsaparilla at Quick Burger. Rumor has it, he’s filming a movie in Jasper this week. But you probably won’t see him, if he sees you first.

At least the kids will absorb some Vitamin D.

Mellow Yellow

Spring is here, and so is the pollen. I’ve been driving something bright yellow. Bet you have, too! But why bother to wash them? Tomorrow they’ll just be bright yellow again. And outdoors, the wind would blow your soap bubbles clean away. Swallow one, and you’d talk like Lawrence Welk.

It’s better for your lungs to stay indoors. Why not take advantage of this, and go antiquing? There are thousands of old, forgotten things populating Pickens, waiting to be dusted off, loved and repurposed. But get an early start, or the tourists will get your treasures. It takes time to find something “wunnerful, wunnerful,” but don’t lose track of it. Once, I got so involved digging through boxes, the clerk locked up for the night with me inside. I panicked! Behind the counter, the key holders were listed on an ancient Rolodex. I called around until someone agreed to come let me out.

Recently, that shop was swarmed with tourists. They’d arrived in a fleet of antique cars. A wise-guy was bothering the clerk. He took a few business cards. “I’m here to distract you while my friends shop-lift.”  He told her. She laughed, and waved him away. One of the ladies sat slumped on a little shoe-shine bench. Clearly, she did not realize the full import of her proximity. I had to say something. “Ma’am, you know you’re in antique heaven, right? Jasper has better prices than bigger towns.”

“Is that where we are, Jasper?” She asked. “We’re from Dawsonville.”

I thought: This lady does not even know where she is. But then I remembered the definition of a tourist.

And then there was Wise-Guy, trying on ladies’ hats. He continued his shoplifting shtick, moving to the luggage. Working a train case into his waistband, he screamed to no-one: “My pants are full!” I redirected him to the tobacco paraphernalia. There, he found his treasure! Grabbing the shop’s business card and his cell phone, he dialed the clerk, who sat just a few feet away. “Do you have Prince Edward in a can?” He asked.

“Yes, we do.” She replied.

“Well, you’d better let him out!”

She hung up on him.

Pretty Is as Pretty Does

Why can’t Women get along? Maybe it’s the estrogen causing us to forget what we learned in Kindergarten. We don’t work well with others. We run with scissors. And we run each other off.

One day, I took my daughter to have her hair cut. It seems we’d just missed a dramatic, hair-pulling beauty shop breakup. Her favorite young stylist was freshly unemployed in the parking lot, trying to shove all her equipment into a two-seat sports car.  

So I popped open my trunk. My daughter went to hunt down some twine. All she could find was curling ribbon. Thank goodness there weren’t any Men around to see us using it for a tie-off. Certainly, packing and moving are high on their list of “Things Men do better than Women.”

Conversely, what would happen if Men ran Beauty Shops? Would they have troughs and spittoons? Would they have toilet paper? Every few months when the floors got crunchy, would they take a  leaf-blower to the fallen hair and peanut shells? These are questions with no clear answers.

I hear that beauty shops are beginning to offer services in private rooms. I hate to see it coming. Put up walls, and isolation sets in. If stylists are separated, they can’t share the latest trends. And it’ll put a muzzle on gossip, too. Nobody needs the bad kind, but good gossip lengthens and strengthens prayer chains.

If you’re wondering what happened to my daughter’s favorite young stylist, we patiently followed her from shop to shop. Finally she asked her Daddy to build her a beauty shop of her very own.
He went to Home Depot and bought enough stuff to raise a barn. In fact, that's what he built. Horrified, she sweetly redirected him on a few points, until she liked it just fine.
We like knowing she will never have to move again. And now, we'll know just where to find her. 

Teaser

As published in The Pickens County Progress

“Strangers are attacking me; ruthless men seek my life – men without regard for God.”

–        Psalm 54:3

            I have a fella. He has broad shoulders, and a nice smile. I slip out to see him once or twice a week. He has what I need and knows what I want. But he’s not my beau! Oh, no. He works at Mountain Video.

             My rental history tells all. He knows I spent Midnight in Paris with Owen Wilson. Nicolas Cage and Bruce Willis come home with me often. And Sylvester Stallone makes educational films. That’s our story and we’re sticking to it.

            My favorite action-romance is The Last of the Mohicans.  Madeleine Stowe plays a British Colonel’s lovely daughter, in harm’s way during the French and Indian War. Daniel Day-Lewis is a rough cob hired to get Miss Stowe safely to Daddy. But how safe is she with him? Trust me on this, girls. There’s nothing better than seeing Daniel Day-Lewis sprint through the woods in a loincloth, and not much else.

            And you get intellectual points as well, because it’s an American literary classic. (God bless James Fenimore Cooper). When the weather gets nicer, I plan to check Mohicans out of the library. Maybe I’ll read it outdoors, in the woods. I’ll be the damsel in distress, on the run from my Huron kidnappers, ruthless men who seek my life, men without regard for God.

             My long dark hair has fallen from its clasp and dances wildly over my soft shoulders. I feel faint, and can’t breathe. My chest heaves.

             I lean against a big tree. Green and yellow sun drops dance before my eyes. With trembling fingers, I struggle to loosen the ties on my tightly-laced bodice.

            Just as my lungs begin to fill with cold fresh air, I see Daniel Day-Lewis sprint toward me wearing a loincloth, and not much else. He clasps his strong arms around my waist, and lowers me gently onto the

bed of moss-green moss. He covers my body with dried-up tree branches. “Stay here, and don't move. I will come back for you. I will find you."
      Before I can get a hello-kiss, or a good-bye kiss, or so much as a brotherly peck on the forehead, he sprints off into the cool green mist to go fight the bad guys.
      I know he will be back. I just know it, without a doubt. I know he will come back for me, because his loincloth got caught on a tree branch. I have it folded neatly and tucked inside my loosened bodice, right next to my heart.

THE END

Madeleline Stowe and Daniel Day-Lewis
in "Last of the Mohicans"

MY TEN FAVORITE ROMANCE MOVIES

The Last of the Mohicans 1992

Loosely based on the French and Indian War. Madeleine Stowe wears the bodice, and Daniel Day-Lewis rips it off. You may want leave during the battle scenes, to dab your forehead with a cool rag.

The Cowboy Way 1994
Rodeo stars Woody Harrelson and Kiefer Sutherland hit New York City to rescue a kidnapped girl. Hunky mounted policeman Ernie Hudson assists.

Pride & Prejudice 2006

An eighteenth century romance, but not a bit stuffy. This version with Kiera Knightley flows quite naturally. Love blooms amid dogs, hogs, and chickens who wander in and out during visits from two rich suitors.

Sixteen Candles 1984

It’s a pubescent Pride & Prejudice, at pimple-popping perfection. The sound effects are brilliant, so use headphones. Famous quote: “Make someone a bridesmaid, and they ----all over you!”

Your Highness 2011

Two princes rescue a princess in a raunchy tale of courtly love (not to be confused with even raunchier Courtney Love). Don’t let the chilluns watch it, especially the gag reel.

Shanghai Noon 2000

East and West meet for another princess rescue. Gorgeous cinematography; wide shots were spoofed from famous westerns. Who is sexier, Jackie Chan, Owen Wilson, or the hundreds of extras sprinting around in loincloths? You don’t have to decide right now.

Casanova 2005

A girly party movie. Invite your best friends, burn candles, and serve tea sandwiches. Learn why “Casanova” is synonymous with the art of seduction. RIP Heath Ledger

Superman 1978

American royalty. Christopher Reeve saves Margot Kidder by flying around the world backwards. Makes other men seem inadequate. Features one of the nicest love songs ever composed:  “Give a Little Bit” by Supertramp

Die Hard 1988

Bruce Willis and his wife aren’t getting along. When terrorists take hostages at her office Christmas party, he takes off his shoes and kicks some bad-guy ass. Then the couple kisses and makes up. Yippee-ki-ay!

Titanic 1997

On a luxurious sinking ship, Kate Blanchet and Leonardo Di Caprio rearrange the deck chairs.

_______

All titles (but Superman with Christopher Reeve) are available
for $1.25 a night rental, or $5. for 5 nights:

Mountain Video
295 N. Main Street, Suite G ~ Jasper, GA 30143
706-253-8266

"Musings on the upcoming year of the Water Dragon" as published in the Pickens County Progress on Thursday, December 29, 2011

      This is the year of the Water Dragon, but there isn’t one nesting in Grand View Lake. Dragons are hard to find, even around these parts. Why, the big lugs are woefully under-employed. Let’s boost school spirit, y’all, and plaster Jasper with dragons! Tag a beautiful dragon on some big wall that’s peeling blue and white paint, if you know where a big wall that’s peeling blue and white paint is located. Or, stay out of jail and help me think of what cute stuff we can make with dragons and then market the fire out of ‘em. 

            This year, I plan to stop trying to be so pretty. It’s time to liberate my stomach from being sucked in for photos. My inspiration comes from Spencer, my daughter’s boyfriend. Since birth, he has ruined every family picture ever made, by making a face at the camera. He has my daughter doing it too, so we have no nice pictures of either of them. The ugly ones are proudly displayed on their Facebook pages under “Awesome Faces.” Try making faces yourself, and see how liberating it can be.

            Do you get cabin fever after Christmas? I sure do. What you need is reflective light. Try hanging a big mirror in the living room or bedroom, so it reflects a window. Don’t have a big mirror? Family Dollar has big, lightweight mirrors for under $25. If the frame is dark and ugly and cheap looking (and you know it will be) Home Depot sells OOPS paint for $1.00. One or two colors are more than enough to sponge the frame of your new mirror. Then you can amuse yourself staring into it, making Awesome Faces.

            This is the year I wish we’d get a municipal facelift. Pickens County is gorgeous in places. Being neat and clean all over would help a common aesthetic emerge. If your neighbors have had a rusted eyesore out front for a decade or so, why not choose your moment and just haul it off yourself? What’s the worst they’ll do - run a “missing sofa” ad in the paper? It’ll be worth every pound you pay at the dump, conveniently located at 1350 Jones Mountain Road, Talking Rock. (706) 253-8860.‎

            Last of all, this year I vow not to sit at home. I can afford eating out, Chinese. It’s cheap, and two can share a meal at lunchtime for almost nothing. The waiter will still bring two fortune cookies. Try my fun trick: add the words “in bed” to the end of your fortune to make it smutty. If you have young children along, distract them as you do this. Tell them to look at the dragons. And be sure to tip your waiter on the way out. That is how he feeds his family, so be generous. You know that tipping is not a city in China.