Small town…southern influence. To say a place is going nowhere is to suggest it is stale, limited, and occupied by stiff constraints and dictates. Some places are just that. To take up residence in a place like this meant we were regaled with statements like, “Ya oughta bank at 1-2-3 bank, not 4-5-6 bank.” “All the teachers bank at 1-2-3.” Really? So, this is a dictatorship? Run by yahoos in a town with a population of 7,000? So, the local citizenry carries a great deal of clout. I suppose that is why a town of this type is so progressive. So progressive in fact that the signs saying “Nigger Don’t Be Here After Dark” were just removed last year.
What are you gonna do in a place like this? You could pull up a chair and listen to and watch the bug zapper fry the hapless flies. How about showing up to the Tag Office? There is no Department of Motor Vehicles — instead, there is an office where you can purchase your “tag” and spend time admiring the doilies and other pretty things that the elderly ladies who work to present you with your “tag” are busy making and selling in their down time.
Yessir. Nothing like life in a communistic, stale, limited southern town. Makes me want to go right out and order grits and Johnny Cake. Just before I post a friendly sign on the outskirts.
Ouch. There’s a stinging endorsement. What are ‘Johnny Cakes’?
Ha! Johnny Cakes are made with cornmeal and believe it or not, the recipe for them is on our Jiffy mix box!
Did you get a view of my gravitar? Ewan, in all his splendor.
There was actually a sign like that?!
Ugh.
I was just told the signs once existed. Gotta love that place.