America’s Heart was Vanishing

I had reached the conclusion that the true heart of America was vanishing forever. Communities were no longer cohesive collectives of people helping people and neighbors actually knowing each other’s name.

I grew up in the 1970’s. During the summers I would play outside all day with my friends. It took a stern warning to be in when the first street light came on at night. Many nights I would pretend to ignore this, but then I would hear my mother’s voice calling my name. Everyone on my street knew everyone else. I made a couple extra dollars by mowing and raking some of the elder’s yards throughout the year. People would sit on their porches and community barbeques were common during the spring and summer months.

My parents never worried where I was playing. They knew they could call a couple houses and find me quickly. They threatened me on nice days to get outside and stay out of the house. Times have really changed.

Now kids stay home and plug themselves into computers and 800 channels of satellite television. They play video games and chat online with their friends. The streets in my last town were absent the sound of children’s voices. I never really knew my neighbors and they never seemed to care to ever introduce themselves to me. We live in a time of distrust and fear, at least that was what I had come to believe.

I recently moved into the West Salem community. I could go on about what a monstrous move that was, but now that I am settling I have had a change of mind. The old communities of my youth still do exist. I know my neighbors and found that there was an actual community organization that passed on news and sponsored events. People wave and I am able to walk on real sidewalks that I share with children running with dogs and playing till the street lights come on.

For the first time since my youth I can say that I feel like I have come home again. My home as a child was in Clearwater Beach Florida, but I did go to high school in Winston- Salem. When I say home, I mean that I feel neighbors look after one another and plan activities and celebrate life together. I can sigh a relief that the heart of America has not died yet, it is exists in the tiny community of West Salem.

Bog Man

Today my wife and I went to a small local Celtic Music festival. They had pipers and fluters (yes that is a word because I say so) and fiddlers and drummers.

There was Haggis in a can, ice cream being sold by the bikecream man (he had a bike welded to an icebox). We saw it all in the wonderful little Bethabara Park, a historical preservation park.

There are small buildings and other historical landmarks. Our favorite is the medicine garden in which we were lucky enough to buy seeds from to plant at home.

I have to say the absolute pinnacle of the day besides the Irish Car bomb Cupcakes we ate, was the man selling peat logs. He had a grill burning peat on a day that it was close to 95 degrees. It was hot and smelled like he was burning green peppers to ash.

I am an open minded person and my wife was interested in peat as a church back in her native Iowa sold peat logs as a fund raiser every year. It is supposed to recreate the smell of a little cottage on the Moors.

So Kate decided to buy a little bag of peat pieces. This is where things went really badly. The man in full kilted attire challenged her about how she intended to use it.

She replied she wanted to burn a little in our fire place on the bricks. Peat won’t burn itself, it will only smolder. It creates a definitive vegetable smell that people like to smell and add a smoke flavor to their foods.

This kilted bog man began to convince her that she was not buying the right peat. He began chewing on a 500 year old peat log and then continued to chew on a 1200 year old peat log. This was to demonstrate it was made of vegetable matter.

He then said that he way of using peat would not allow the volatile oils to be released and it would burn black. He then licked the black sludge off a metal bowl he was using in the cooking barbeque.

This was not enough because he then scraped more black sludge from the inside of the barbeque lid to show more volatile oils and then stuck it in his mouth. I was beginning to wonder if I would ever eat barbeque again.

He handed Kate a peat log and then walked away as he told her to think about it. We quickly left when his back was turned, ate cupcakes and went home with no peat for our trouble.

The thing that I walked with today is an untapped way to get more oils and fiber into your diet.

My wife was Pierced Today

We went to an awesome Greek breakfast and then went to Claire’s at the mall. My wife an appointment and sat up in the seat for honored guests. A little girl in pigtails crowded in close for event, for she was next in line  to sit in the seat of honor.

The certified stabbing professional had my wife sign all sorts of forms to release them from liability should something go horribly wrong. I don’t know what all fuss was about, I mean what is the worse that can happen when a teenager gets their hand on a spring loaded gun with a roofing nail poised to pierce skin and cartilage.

The little girl held her breath and my wife reassured her that everything was fine. Pop! It was over. On the top of her earlobe was a small barbell. The little girl in pigtails looked up at my wife in awe. My wife told her it did not hurt at all.

The little girl clutched her bear that she was holding and wiggled into the seat. This was her 3rd try, and today was going to be the day!

Neighborhood Association

In my almost 40 years, I have never lived in a neighborhood, that was historic or had an association. I now live in both. I just received my first newsletter.

 

I know for some reading this, it does not seem that exciting, but it gives me hope. Sometime ago I asked the question why people did not sit on porches anymore. In my opinion it is because the concept of community and neighborhood is disappearing in America. The idea, that you actually know and talk with your neighbor seems foreign.

 

 

When I knocked on my neighbor’s doors yesterday, I was greeted with someone peeking out and not very happy to see me in the middle of the day. I am well groomed and pretty harmless, but even in this new neighborhood there was initial distrust and skepticism. Once I informed them I was their new neighbor, doors were flung open and I was warmly embraced.

One of my neighbors seemed totally amazed that I was knocking on doors and introducing myself. It was backed with a large smile and a hearty handshake. I genuinely felt welcome and appreciated. I left my email address with another neighbor and have already received emails from the neighborhood association. 

Images of days gone by when neighborhoods met, had BBQ’s and celebrated holidays together has come to life. There is even a garden club. Wait wasn’t that the background for the “Stepford Wives.”