Yesterday, I was riding the subway to Times Square and we were delayed for ten minutes because another person had been hit by a train at 50th Street. The person was not killed, but he/she was injured badly enough to where a stretcher was needed to get out of the station. So, as we sat in the tunnel waiting, you start hearing the grumbling...
"Ugh, I'm going to be late."
"When are people gonna learn?"
"Some crackhead probably pushed him."
"Dunkin Donuts will have a line out to 6th Avenue by the time I get there."
Sitting in a subway tunnel is a claustrophobic's worst nightmare. You are packed in with 100 people in this train car, underground, in the dark. Since it is winter, everyone has on ridiculously huge coats, so you cannot really move around at all. I just cranked up my Ipod, playing "Barely Breathing" by Duncan Sheik, and waited out the delay in my own world. I watched people's faces, most of them looking positively miserable. As if this train delay marks the end of the world as we know it (and I feel fine). The exception being three small children, a Jamaican guy clearly enjoying his Ipod, an old Asian woman with a perpetual grin and the girl next to me, who apparently plays "Molly" in some play on Broadway because she was reading her lines.
New Yorkers HATE to wait for anything. They even do what is called a "pre-honk" in their cars. This is a preemptive tap on the horn to alert the drivers ahead of them that traffic will indeed start moving soon. There can be a line of five people to get on a subway car and the last guy always yells, "C'mon!" They will get take-out food, be told "thirty minutes" and then instantly run to the restaurant and wonder why it is not ready. You do NOT want to be the guy whose credit card gets declined at the grocery store. Every grocery store in the city is busy, 24/7/365. Thirty five people will call you a "schmuck" and stone you to death with Gala apples. It is quite comical, as Southerners like me are rarely in a hurry. Sometimes, I walk extra slowly just to see how many people I can annoy. I usually get the women in the business suits, jabbering on their Iphone and doing the "fire-breathing dragon" act that so many corporate drones do around here. I love to listen to them talk tough about filing paperwork, insurance claims and mortgage interest rates.
This ridiculous behavior is foreign to me. I live by words that I was told in Cassville many years ago, "still water runs deep." I get better results and live a happier life. Toughness to me is not "telling someone off" over the phone. Toughness is people who get up at 4 AM and go to work without complaint. People who treat others with respect and deal with you face-to-face. People who take what life gives them and keep on going without whining. I find that small town people, specifically rural Southerners, seem to adjust to adversity better than the world assumes they would. We do not fly off the handle at little things. We do not walk through life looking for a reason to be angry. Those that do, the "telephone tough guys" and the "I got wedgied in high school so I am paying everybody back" crowd, often wilt like a burning potato chip bag when personally confronted. I never knew many of these types of people until I passed the Bar and started working in urban areas. People are wound too damn tight. They just need a "dip a 'niller" (dip of vanilla) and a riveting discussion about roofing nail prices on the benches of Cass Grocery. It does the soul good to stand around a 1967 Pontiac GTO with the hood up and lament the loss of carburetors with ten other people. To smell barbeque cooking or get a wave from your neighbor riding around in his "weekend truck." To argue over what is the best way to get to Rome. All that angry nonsense will disappear because they will know the world ain't out to get them.
I thought to myself, "what are some ways to help these poor souls?" To get happy like us, you must become one with us. Adapt to our way of life. See things as we see them. In an effort to assuage the stress of urban life, I have concocted a list of forty things that a city-dwelling cubicle slave can do to get some peace in their lives, Cassville style. This list is brought to you by Zabar's bagels and lox, Katz's Deli on the Lower East Side, Garcia's Mexican restaurant in Forest Hills, Queens (best. salsa. ever.), the Chinese lady at 6th Avenue bodega who says "tonk you, suh" every time I buy something, and Lana, my female Israeli barber who never stops grinning.
1) Buy an American-made truck and do something to the engine. Anything. Take the oil pan off and put it back on, then brag about it. Instant conversation starter.
2) Get a dog and name it after a famous country/Southern rock singer. Ex: Duane, George, Willie, Ronnie, Elvis, or Johnny. Have it ride with you in your newly souped up Ford Ranger.
3) Buy a metal toolbox for the Ranger. Fill it with jumper cables, rubber hunting boots, empty dip cans, packs of arrow tips for your compound bow that you are going to buy, two crowbars, three full Natty Lite cans, and two one-gallon gas cans. One full of gas and the other full of Round Up. Do not label them. You must do the test sniff, say with confidence, "Round Up" and move on. You will appear to know what you are talking about.
4) You need a compound bow in your life. No less than an 80 pound pull will do. No matter how much pull you say you have....somebody else will have a higher one. I think one man in Cassville had 764 pound pull on his bow. He had to use a draft horse to fire it and he once hit a deer from six miles away on the run.
5) Dove shoots. You need to attend one. Take your worst gun though, because this party will likely be pooped upon by the DNR and your gun will be confiscated as "evidence" of people having a good time.
6) Pronounce the word "grass" like this: "grice."
7) Scream at an umpire at a middle school softball game like he burned your house down and stole everything you own. Encourage others to do so. Get arrested and smile in the mugshot.
8) Sit in an emergency room for seven hours and cry uncontrollably because your 3rd cousin's ex neighbor in law might have diabetes.
9) Go to church and ask the congregation to pray for your 3rd cousin's ex neighbor in law. Be sure it gets in the bulletin.
10) Claim third cousins and beyond. Always have one in another state too. "Bobby, my fourth cousin from East Ridge, Tennessee" will do nicely.
11) Get in touch with your inner Cherokee Indian. We are all part Cherokee. Every single one of us.
12) Go to Six Flags on the hottest day of the year and win at least three stuffed unicorns and two basketballs.
13) Buy a Carhartt vest and swear to wear it to church or a wedding.
14) Mention your "2nd Amendment rights" at least once a week.
15) Somehow work into a conversation that you've been to the "Nannahaler" recently. (Nantahala River...the alpha and omega of all rivers. Longer than the Nile and more dangerous than the Amazon)
16) You must go to a Mexican restaurant for one birthday. Wear a sombrero and take a picture. Act like this could possibly be the greatest moment of your life as they sing "Feliz Cumpleanos" and "La Cucharacha" to you, as those are the only Hispanic songs you know.
17) Buy second hand appliances and then brag about the deal you received to your friends. "Ol Steve gave me this dryer for two hunnert and thirty dollars."
18) Have a domestic dispute on Facebook, change your relationship status and then make up the next day.
19) Dixie Speedway. If you have not been, you are already a day late.
20) Pronounce "log" like this: "lawg."
21) Use tornadoes to mark years and locations. "1993, that was the year we had that tornado, right?" or "There's Griffin Road, about three years ago a tornado blowed that place slap to pieces."
22) Refer to a group of people in this manner: "Keith n' them."
23) Get really fired up about an election and then do not actually vote in it. "I couldn't get off work."
24) Buy a 12 Pack of Old Milwaukee and a pack of Marlboro Reds. Smoke and drink all within a 12 hour period.
25) Be very particular about the brand of spark plugs you buy.
26) Talk about "going to Atlanta" as if you were landing at Normandy or Iwo Jima.
27) You can never have enough chainsaw files or pipe glue.
28) If your friends ask if you want to "go muddin' at the par (power) lines," the answer is always "yes."
29) Old men are always "sir," old women are always "ma'am," and do not talk bad about anyone's blood relations, even if they are imprisoned.
30) Remember where you were on the following dates: Dale Earnhardt's death, when Sid Bream scored the winning run in the 1991 NLCS, and when Herschel ran over Bill Bates in Knoxville in 1980.
31) Expect to catch hell if you put too much cream in your coffee, mention the word "gluten" or concern yourself with sodium content.
32) Pronounce the word "bass" (the fish) like this: "bice." Also, don't say "croppie."
33) Only wear your nice t-shirts to Ryan's. Be sure to tuck them in.
34) Get to the point where you openly admit that you considered "dumpster diving" when you saw somebody throw away a decent looking recliner
35) Know where a secret farm pond is located that only you can visit. Brag about this knowledge repeatedly. When confronted, just say "this ol boy I know from work, he just lets me go out there." Your clandestine activity will drive your friends crazy.
36) All your close friends have the title "Ol" before their name. Their age is no concern. "Ol' Buck's been livin' in Darsvul (Adairsville) his whole life."
37) Attend a wrestling match with local sponsorship. Forget WWE. Forget Monday Night Raw. Do a Wednesday night "Southern Outlaw North Georgia Throwdown" match at the old Kingston Elementary School gym involving chainsaws and ladders.
38) Know all the Hooters employees names, their kids names, have their phone numbers and be their friend on Facebook.
39) Have a friend named after a city, a color or a personal value/state of mind: Denver, Cleveland, Richmond, Dallas, Houston, Cheyenne, Memphis, Amber, Red, Blue, Chastity or Charity.
40) Learn to properly use the word for eternal damnation in any situation: "the hell you say," "like hell you will," "you'll play hell too," "hell, I don't know," "hell-far," and the all time favorite in Cassville...."git the hayul off my property." (you must drag it out when used in those terms)
Enjoy the weekend.
#37...I'm surprised it wasn't a "wrasslin'" match.
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