T'Bone, Cotton, Andy, and 'em

By JUDITH HANEY

USNewsLink/May 25, 2002

I have moved to "God's Country."

Down south, we like to call a place where we can be the happiest, "A little piece of heaven right here on earth."

And, man, I have ARRIVED!

About three months ago I began looking for another place to live.

I wouldn't have made that decision except for the fact that some ambitious entrepreneur decided to build a shopping mall behind my apartment in Montgomery, Alabama.

But, after the mall building contractor's road crew had cut the telephone and fiber optic cable lines to my place four times in three weeks, on top of which the construction-created dust bowl caused me severe breathing problems, I decided that I had to get out of there. My sinuses compelled me to do it, and the poor dog had developed sinus problems and allergies.

Now, since I'm a frequent roadrunner to Birmingham and Montgomery, I thought I would look somewhere in between those two cities.

As it happens, there is a good sized lake situated about half-way between Montgomery and Birmingham, and therein is where I decided to install myself, the dog, and USNewsLink.

Well, actually, I'm not on the lake, yet. But I plan to be waterside in the near future. Fishing for home grown trout is my next big adventure.

My first day of residence in my new city (home of Hank Williams, Sr., and the birthplace of his famous song "Kowaliga") brought me in contact with a young man named T'Bone. It's easy to see why he possesses that nickname because T'Bone is a bit overweight. But he's agile. I imagine that T'Bone was a local high school football star at one point because he's tall and stocky. A good ol', homegrown, southern 'boy' in every sense of the word.

I met T'Bone when I went to buy a part for my car. There he was with a steady, honest, straight-forward gaze, standing behind the counter, with the name T'Bone emblazoned on his red company shirt. His no-nonsense manner was incongruous when confronted with his somewhat whimsical name. In that context, I was 'almost' inspired to call him: "Mr. T'Bone." Suffice it to say, you would want T'Bone on your side on the battlefield.

It was precisely at this point that I began to realize that I was going to have to readjust my thinking and approach and begin to assimilate into this new culture "where I was at!"

When T'Bone couldn't locate the right part, I told him I'd be back some other time. T'Bone ended our business transaction by saying, "OK, see 'ya".

After leaving T'Bone's place, the next person I met was "Cotton" who has white-blond hair. Cotton owns "Cottons Restaurant."  There's no need to say his last name because everybody knows who you're talking about.

Right about now, I realized that folks in these parts get nicknames based upon their physical characteristics.  And it caused me some stress to realize that if I hang around here long enough my nickname is likely to be "Porky."

Next I stopped by Dean's Depot to buy some gas. Dean's is owned by Andy, a pony-tailed, brown-eyed, handsome, man with a well nurtured beer gut who looks to be about 40 years old.

When I first met Andy he was on his way out the front door of his 'place' with a six-pack in one hand and a fishing pole in the other. He stopped just long enough to help me, then he was on his way.

I found out later that when four-o'clock rolls around, some of the good working folks head to the lake to fish and drink a brew or two.

Ah, it's so-oo good to be home!

Now that I have the move behind me (I moved everything myself and nearly killed myself in the process) I realize I have a lot to look forward to.

Some of the conveniences of small town life are as follows:

I can buy my gas, pawn my computer, and buy my minnows from Andy;

I can buy my auto parts from T'Bone;

I can get high-speed Internet access and cable from the same outfit;

I can pay the power, garbage, and water bill at the same place;

I can knock off at 4:00 in the afternoon and fish;

Beer tastes better here than anywhere else I've ever been;

Rent is cheaper;

Folks are nicer (two of my neighbors offered to help me unload my uhaul trailer the day I moved in)

Fresh vegetables from road-side stands are plentiful and cheap;

"Pick-ur-own" peach orchards and strawberry fields are everywhere;

A local joint called "Sho Nuff Good BBQ" has a "Pig in a Spud" special that consists of a large baked potato stuffed with fresh pork, butter, cheese, barbecue  sauce, and green onions. TALK ABOUT GOOD - what'chu talkin' 'bout!

I've been in my new home for all of three days now and, so far, everything's good except for the fact that every single, solitary, muscle and joint in my 57-year old body aches from having moved all my stuff by myself. My doctor has ordered me off my feet for the next two days.

As I sit here and write about my new town, I keep thinking of how good it's going to be when I can find my way from point A to point B without getting lost.  When that day arrives life is going to be 'mighty fine', mighty fine indeed!

Think I'll pop a Michelob Light and relax.