Wednesday, June 11, 2003
Family Disunions
Reunion time for all the Sisters and Brothers and Cousins and Aunts ad nausem of this girl.
Like everyone else in Oak Ridge, my family is Not From Around Here. That makes me feel kinda good about Oak Ridge... That there are Strange Folk in other places too.
This reunion is held every year on the birthday of my Great-Grandmother (who was ALIVE AND KICKING THE TAR out of those who didn't obey her until she was 98 years old). I remember her quite clearly---she passed on, as they say, when I was in college. That was some years ago, but we keep the reunion on her birthday anyway. She still presides over us via a rather severe oil portrait that channels her spirit. I am not kidding. It gets ceremonially put in the chair at the head of the main table by her only surviving daughter (a youthful 84 herself now) and we all drink a toast to her while she looks sternly disapproving. This is something of a jest because, alive, she didn't hold with spirits at all. She did have some special medicine that she got from a mail-order place that she drank on those rare occasions when she was feeling unwell. According to the alcohol content on the label it was rather more spirited than you would expect. But, she always maintained, it was for medicinal purposes. It made her feel well, right? That's what medicine does! Who can argue with that? Not me and my first cousin Jeff, who used to go behind the outbuildings in the garden to, ah, read the label.
I have a distant relation of some kind who is about 8 years old, and she livened up the party this year, inadvertantly, of course. (The only time children contribute much to a gathering is when it is inadvertant, in my opinion.) The child observed all the reverence being paid to the sacred sainted memory of my great-grandmother, and then tugged on her mother's shirt, pointed at the picture, and started to say something. Her mother, apparently anticipating what she thought the child wanted to know, explained that that was her umpitty-Great Mammaw and that she was in Heaven.
This child looked with scorn at her mother and said, "I know that, Mommy. I know that's God. But why is He wearing a dress?"
To say that this did not go down well with most of the older relatives (many of whom are strict Church of Christ), is an understatement. To say that it was the highlight of the entire event for those of us who are a little younger and more sinful is also an understatement.
Mammaw would have loved it, though. This child would have had her approval.
As for me, I'm going to be just like Mammaw when I get to be old. She can channel through me anytime. The portrait can go hang. :-)
Kudos and Kudzus
Just to make it clear, a Kudzu is the opposite of a Kudo: no one wants it.
We in Oak Ridge have a Dead Mall. The only two flourishing businesses down in that shopping center very wisely decided not to be physically attached to the mall proper. Thus, the rot that killed the mall has not spread to their healthy limbs. The movie theater---well, that was so it could get parking on more sides of it, I think. But the Super Wal-Mart---that was more of Sam's saavy, I suspect. (Now Sam...That's another icon who is probably channeling from beyond the grave.)
So we have this humongeous Wal-Mart. It has food, it has clothes, it has cat litter by the 25-pound bag. It has electronics and video games and chainsaws. It has Big Orange regalia, and even Oak Ridge Wildcats gear. [I nearly decided to boycott it when I saw a Clinton (Tennessee) Dragon T-shirt there. Lord, Sam's people will sell *anything* to make a buck.]
It has twenty-six checkout lanes, and there are never more than five open at one time. There are always 5 people in each line, minimum. Even if I have only 20 items (or pretend I only have 20 items until I get to the checkout counter and then find to my "surprise" that I have actually selected enough stuff to feed and clothe an army of Vols fans for six months), I have a wait of about 15 minutes.
Even on days when snow is predicted and every soul in the Tennessee Valley is in our Wal-Mart buying food so they won't starve to death in Oak Ridge in case the snow lays, there are no more than maybe 10 checkout lanes open, and of course there are several hundred people there.
(Why does Sister shop there? Not for the customer service, that's for damn sure.)
So. They build a horrendous big store, they stock it with zillions of items, and they attract shoppers by the hundreds. They have 26 checkout lines, but it takes 15 minutes to get through one. The others seem to be just for show, or are they saving them for seed? Could they be too cheap to staff their big store properly? Gee, thanks.
So, Wal-Mart,
KudZU to YOU!
Reunion time for all the Sisters and Brothers and Cousins and Aunts ad nausem of this girl.
Like everyone else in Oak Ridge, my family is Not From Around Here. That makes me feel kinda good about Oak Ridge... That there are Strange Folk in other places too.
This reunion is held every year on the birthday of my Great-Grandmother (who was ALIVE AND KICKING THE TAR out of those who didn't obey her until she was 98 years old). I remember her quite clearly---she passed on, as they say, when I was in college. That was some years ago, but we keep the reunion on her birthday anyway. She still presides over us via a rather severe oil portrait that channels her spirit. I am not kidding. It gets ceremonially put in the chair at the head of the main table by her only surviving daughter (a youthful 84 herself now) and we all drink a toast to her while she looks sternly disapproving. This is something of a jest because, alive, she didn't hold with spirits at all. She did have some special medicine that she got from a mail-order place that she drank on those rare occasions when she was feeling unwell. According to the alcohol content on the label it was rather more spirited than you would expect. But, she always maintained, it was for medicinal purposes. It made her feel well, right? That's what medicine does! Who can argue with that? Not me and my first cousin Jeff, who used to go behind the outbuildings in the garden to, ah, read the label.
I have a distant relation of some kind who is about 8 years old, and she livened up the party this year, inadvertantly, of course. (The only time children contribute much to a gathering is when it is inadvertant, in my opinion.) The child observed all the reverence being paid to the sacred sainted memory of my great-grandmother, and then tugged on her mother's shirt, pointed at the picture, and started to say something. Her mother, apparently anticipating what she thought the child wanted to know, explained that that was her umpitty-Great Mammaw and that she was in Heaven.
This child looked with scorn at her mother and said, "I know that, Mommy. I know that's God. But why is He wearing a dress?"
To say that this did not go down well with most of the older relatives (many of whom are strict Church of Christ), is an understatement. To say that it was the highlight of the entire event for those of us who are a little younger and more sinful is also an understatement.
Mammaw would have loved it, though. This child would have had her approval.
As for me, I'm going to be just like Mammaw when I get to be old. She can channel through me anytime. The portrait can go hang. :-)
Kudos and Kudzus
Just to make it clear, a Kudzu is the opposite of a Kudo: no one wants it.
We in Oak Ridge have a Dead Mall. The only two flourishing businesses down in that shopping center very wisely decided not to be physically attached to the mall proper. Thus, the rot that killed the mall has not spread to their healthy limbs. The movie theater---well, that was so it could get parking on more sides of it, I think. But the Super Wal-Mart---that was more of Sam's saavy, I suspect. (Now Sam...That's another icon who is probably channeling from beyond the grave.)
So we have this humongeous Wal-Mart. It has food, it has clothes, it has cat litter by the 25-pound bag. It has electronics and video games and chainsaws. It has Big Orange regalia, and even Oak Ridge Wildcats gear. [I nearly decided to boycott it when I saw a Clinton (Tennessee) Dragon T-shirt there. Lord, Sam's people will sell *anything* to make a buck.]
It has twenty-six checkout lanes, and there are never more than five open at one time. There are always 5 people in each line, minimum. Even if I have only 20 items (or pretend I only have 20 items until I get to the checkout counter and then find to my "surprise" that I have actually selected enough stuff to feed and clothe an army of Vols fans for six months), I have a wait of about 15 minutes.
Even on days when snow is predicted and every soul in the Tennessee Valley is in our Wal-Mart buying food so they won't starve to death in Oak Ridge in case the snow lays, there are no more than maybe 10 checkout lanes open, and of course there are several hundred people there.
(Why does Sister shop there? Not for the customer service, that's for damn sure.)
So. They build a horrendous big store, they stock it with zillions of items, and they attract shoppers by the hundreds. They have 26 checkout lines, but it takes 15 minutes to get through one. The others seem to be just for show, or are they saving them for seed? Could they be too cheap to staff their big store properly? Gee, thanks.
So, Wal-Mart,
KudZU to YOU!
