Sunday, March 8, 2015

RANT. =)

A rather lengthy rant is about to follow.

I make no guarantees regarding the quality of this blog post, as I wasn't planning on writing it.  But I feel certain that what I want to say, and the thoughts I feel a sudden need to express, will be far too lengthy for a facebook status.  So I'm just going to put them here.


You know. . . it really is a strange thing to consider, but lately I have been more and more overcome with the conviction that I was, in a way, completely spoiled by my childhood and youth.

It is a strange thing to consider because I grew up in the country. Back-woods Alabama, as rural as it gets.  Aside from a few years when we lived in a suburb (that was still fairly rural), I spent my childhood and teenage years out in the boonies.


As in. . . lots of trees, lots of pastures.

As in. . . catching lightning bugs in jars.  . . .and discovering that if you keep the FROGS you caught in the SAME JAR as the lightning bugs you caught, and leave them there overnight. . . you will wake up with fat frogs and no lightning bugs.  =(

As in. . . not having grandparents, but having Grannies, and Mawmaws, and Pawpaws.

As in. . . it was 10 miles to the nearest gas station, and a good half-hour to "town."

As in. . . my high school was *literally* blown away by a tornado.

I think I can fairly state that I am, at heart, a country girl.

And it has completely spoiled me, in a way that I never anticipated.

And now is when we get to the meat of the matter. . .

For two years now, Padawan has participated in youth soccer, and has now decided to add baseball to his athletic resume.  Which means that, for two years now, we have been dealing with the parents from UNNAMED AREA (we'll just call it. . . "Hestavia Vills". . . just to keep it anonymous).

I have tried to reserve judgement regarding these people.

It has not been an easy thing to do, but I have tried.

But for TWO YEARS I have been there for soccer games, met several of them, and have sat there on the sidelines with them.

And I'm just gonna say it:

These people are assholes.

I have spoken to them (just remarking about the game or something, just being friendly), and have been met with silence.

I have smiled at them.  And they have stared at me like I was perhaps slightly unhinged.

I have asked questions of them DIRECTLY, and they have STARED AT ME WITHOUT RESPONDING.   As in today, when I was wandering around with Pad and Took, looking for where we supposed to be, knowing we were on the right field, but knowing we weren't at the right PLACE.  So I asked a lady.  She stared at me, and turned around.  That's it.

("MAYBE NO HABLA INGLES," I should've whispered loudly.)

In two years, not ONCE have I met one of them that had a kind word, or a smile.



(And I'm not even going to say a THING about their children, because that would be uncouth.  . . . but I WILL say that I showed my "country side" a couple of years ago, when we were in a restaurant for the presentation of the soccer trophies, and ---I kid you not--- EVERY child in there, aside from OUR kid (who HAS ADHD, for God's sake!) was *literally* climbing the walls, and screaming and yelling.  They were in danger of harming themselves, AND restaurant property, and every customer in there was staring in amazement.  And I kept waiting for one of their parents to DO something . . . and NO ONE DID.

So finally . . . *I* did.  I don't even know where it came from. Wasn't even quite sure that I had gotten that gene. . .  But I just couldn't take it any more.  It was SO rude.  So I stood up, and (me, the INTROVERT) yelled:


. . . that happened.

It still amazes me.)

I digress.

But as long as I'm digressing. . .  I'll just go on and take the exit and make a side-point.

Before I met my husband, I dated a guy, pretty seriously, who was from Mountain Brook.  (If you aren't from Alabama, I'll just tell you:  it's one of the wealthiest areas in the state, if not THE wealthiest.)  He lived with his parents at the time, and they had an enormous house, and were very well-off.  Like. . . seriously well-off.  So much so that, once I began to get an inkling of HOW well-off, it began to make me a little nervous.

But they were some of the kindest people I've ever met.

And I don't mean just to me, because I was dating their son.

They were GENUINELY kind people.

And so I am forced to conclude that it has nothing at all to do with whether or not you have money.

But I do know this:

If I sat down at a ball park in Oak Grove today, and didn't know a soul there, someone would speak to me.  Someone that didn't know me would say hello.  They would make polite conversation while we watched the game.  And if you smiled at them, they would damn sure smile right back.


My parents worked very hard while I was growing up, and continue to do so to this day.

I'm sure that at some points we were given more than we needed, and we certainly never lacked for anything.

But we were never "spoiled."

We were disciplined, we were expected to behave in a certain way, we were expected to make certain grades, and we were expected to be kind to others.

. . . as I sit here writing this. . . I'm not even sure what to say at this point.

I just find this behavior so baffling. . .

It is rudeness, plain and simple.

I don't care that they wear six-inch platform heels to a kids soccer game.

I don't care what kind of vehicle they drive.

I don't care what's in their bank account, and I don't even care that I've seen some faces that likely spend more on Botox each year than we do on our kids' Christmas.

As I said, I have tried to reserve judgement, as it is not my place to judge others.

But what I DO care about is the fact that they are just so needlessly rude.


And I care about what it is they're teaching their children.

. . . Luckily for us, our Padawan was born with roughly 8 times the confidence of a normal child.  So he probably hasn't even noticed.

Good thing, that.


So I guess I'll just end this rant by saying this:

I'm grateful for how I was brought up, and where.

I'm grateful for humid summers, and playing in the river.

I'm grateful for time spent in the woods, and the quietness there.
It's good for you, that quietness.

I'm grateful that kindness was the norm, not the exception.

I'm grateful for not just parents, but an entire family and community, that refused to let any of us believe that anybody was "better" than anybody else.

I'm grateful that I've never had enough money in my pocket to make me rotten.

And lastly. . . I guess I'm just grateful that it hasn't taken me an entire lifetime to figure out what "living the good life" is really all about.



And I'm PROUD to be a coal miner's daughter.


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