Meaning to be more attentive to his duties, OS nonetheless, at Mrs. OS's urging, took the day off.
It was a glorious day, with the height of the mid-October colors almost upon us, clear blue skies, temps in the mid-70's.
We took the MuttDawg to our country vet for treatment of a skin allergy, and to purchase the breathtakingly expensive but effective flea treatments for the entire pack which are a necessity in our pest-ridden part of the country. CountryVet was delightful as always, cheerful, dry sense of humor, has forgotten more than most of his colleagues will ever learn, with his practice that treats everything from horses to pet waterfowl.
A trip to the Mennonite bakery followed. It's miles from anywhere, located in heart-breakingly beautiful rolling hill country. A group from that particular branch of Christianity moved into the area a few years ago, bought farms, set up shop, and have thrived. They've helped the area around them thrive as well. Nice folks, who dress quasi-Amish simply, but use electricity, farm equipment, etc. The bakery dining area doubles as the church meeting room on Sundays, all are welcome. The kitchen and sales area are pristine, eat-off-the-floor clean, stocking incredible baked goods, meats, cheeses, and supplies for 'scratch' cooks. The place is prospering, with its customers driving in from miles around.
The Mennonite nursery was nearby, and we hemmed MuttDawg in with huge mums and asters, and plant stands bought at a local junk shop. She looked at dubiously, settled in and continued her nap. From there, we headed to vote early at the election commission, on the courthouse square of the tiny county seat. A steady stream of voters, a cheerful atmosphere.
OS walked the back nine at the local club, and we joined friends who fixed dinner to celebrate a birthday, and the fact that both the hosts had just weathered terrible medical crises which would have killed lesser souls. Lots of laughter, and a few tears of joy shed as well.
It was a wonderful day.
OS shares this with you, especially overseas readers, not to gloat or bore, but to attempt to explain this part of the world to you, and hopefully offer an insight into what may appear bewildering from a distance.
All of this is what is known as Americana. The rolling hills are home to farms, mostly small, with a few grander homesteads, a couple of villages; and quirky, independent-minded souls, all manner of them, from demure Mennonites to outlandish Pentecostals, twelve kinds of Baptists, and some who mainly just ignore the question. Many are self-employed, 'hip-pocket' entrepreneurs, or work a 'day job' and supplement with a family business. It is a quiet, modest prosperity. No flash cars, more pickup trucks than cars driven anyway. The occasional overdone house, but mainly brick ranch homes with trimmed yards, hardwood trees, roses, sometimes fruit trees, and a dog or two.
It is far from a perfect place. But it is truly wonderful, especially on a day like we spent yesterday.
It's made possible by some things ThePeopleInCharge of the big institutions in Washington, New York, and London just don't seem to understand.
Political freedom without intimidation.
A rule of law that allows the owners of the small farms to convey clear title of their houses and lands--that seems now to have been undermined. Can't buy or sell if the paper trail has vanished into thin air, can we?
A tax system that is easy to comply with, and doesn't punish success or the building or conveyance of wealth within the family.
Religious freedom.
Local control of local issues, and most issues are local, beginning with the school system.
A financial system based upon sound accounting.
A health care system that allows the sick to be cared for, and the healers to do their jobs, without bankrupting anyone in the process.
Otherwise, these folks simply wish to be left alone, to live their lives, their families, their businesses, and their churches. No utopian schemes, no great crusades. And, it's much the same in the city neighborhoods around the country as well.
This Americana way of life is threatened by ThePeopleInCharge, who either see those people in the hills as ignorant church-going rubes, or as a source of tax money to spend on utopian schemes, or as a source of wealth to be expropriated via manipulation.
The funny-looking people in the tri-corner hats and hand-lettered signs, who have been called 'AstroTurf', and referred to as practicioners of aberrant sexual behaviors are drawn from this way of life. The last thing they want to be doing with their time is attending Tea Party rallies, but they feel they must, to give their kids, and their grandchildren, a chance to have the kind of day Mr. and Mrs. OldSouth spent yesterday.
They sense, rightly, that there are people at the helm of the major institutions of government, the academy, the press, entertainment, finance and industry who would not lose a moment's sleep if this way of life vanished into thin air, so long as their power and their wealth remained untouched by the event.
The people who live in Americana are very angry about it all. They will be marching, donating in $25 and $50 increments, and voting. Here's hoping they shift the ground out from under the feet of those who disdain them so deeply.
No comments:
Post a Comment