How did I actually get here?
It all began back in 1987. Or maybe it was even before that, when we would make summertime trips to what seemed like a foreign land and I still believed there were only four states in the United States: New York, New Jersey, Virginia, and California. In my mind, Florida’s state status was questionable despite having been there at the tender age of two and somehow breaking a statue of the Virgin Mary and Baby Jesus in some gallery my mother was browsing in. Of course, I’m sure it was entirely my fault because every toddler knows how to behave in a gallery.
But back to that foreign land. Virginia, which seemed like an exotic land wrapped in shiny kudzu vines and the air thick with humidity and the smell of boxwoods. We would make our yearly pilgrimage from New Jersey every summer to visit the countless aunts, uncles and cousins who lived there. My memories of the visits are somewhat hazy except for a few things that left a lasting impression:
1.) Sleeping on your aunt’s vinyl-covered sofa in a non-air-conditioned room has to rank up there with one of Dante’s circles of hell.
2.) Walking barefoot around apple trees that attract Yellowjackets to their fallen fruit is really, really dumb. And painful. One out of five stars, would not recommend.
3.) Sweet tea is the nectar of the gods. But it must be properly brewed and have enough sugar for your spoon to stand up in the glass.
4.) Aunt Louise always brought over Kentucky Fried Chicken. Death in the family? KFC. New baby? KFC. Promotion at work? KFC. I guess while some people say it with flowers, Louise believed that fried chicken was the ultimate gift of love and appreciation. Kind of a one-size-fits-all thing, I guess.
Back to 1987. My dad retired for health reasons and my parents decided to move back to their small town in Virginia. Meanwhile, I was getting ready to start my senior year of high school and was absolutely crushed in the most teenage kind of way that I couldn’t stay behind in New Jersey to finish out the year. Leaving the mountain to head to a whole new life sounded worse than anything John Hughes could have conjured up.
But we did it. It didn’t entirely suck. And 35 years later I am still here.
And boy, do I have some stories. Grab yourself a nice, cold glass of tea and settle in for a spell.