The Mississippi Chronicles: Entering the Unknown

Inexplicably, I now wake up earlier than I did when I had a normal job. I have to take my son to school. I WANT to take my son to school. It gives me great joy. Great pleasure. It makes me feel like a man. 

In rural Mississippi, everything is a million miles away. By the time I drop him off, it’s damn near time to pick him up. Sooo…

I also pick my son up from school most days. He is 1 of 8 kids in his class. I sit in the pickup line watching him play, and I have never been happier. 

The pace here is slow. Like roast cooking in the crockpot all day slow. When the weather is dreary, it is easy to get bored. When the sun is shining, it is paradise. It took me until midday Monday to realize that no one on Planet Earth keeps the same schedule as me any more. You know, the “no schedule” schedule. (Why is it taking so long for my friends to return my texts?)

I am now on Central time. I still wear my watch proudly. I have no idea why. 

The landscape is green. Like green, green. Like Augusta green. Already. The azaleas are everywhere, and they are loud. I slow down every time I pass them to make sure I take in their beauty. 

When it is quiet, I can hear my heart beat. 

The golf ranges from damn good to exceptional. Google Dancing Rabbit aka “The Augusta You Can Play”, a course that ate my lunch last Wednesday. 

Speaking of lunch, the food is insanely good, but it is a catch 22. On the one side, I have to be careful or I will be dead in five years from the gravy, butter, and bacon. On the other hand, this place makes those hipster farm to table restaurants look like frauds. This is literally farm to table. Like walk it straight inside from the garden and eat it. Same with the seafood. (Is boat to table a phrase? Let’s trademark it.)

The problems with society are right in front of me. I see them daily. I feel them daily.  Unlike in a big city, there is no place to hide them.

Down here, dogs are just dogs, and many roam aimlessly. 

I found a snake already. I ate dinner at a gas station already. I got stuck behind a tractor on the road already. 

But the people are friendly. Really friendly. And by God, there is no substitute for this. They work hard. Damn hard. Laborers. Military. Jobs that command my respect. 

This is rural Mississippi, my new stomping ground from roughly Monday morning to midday Thursday until some time in May. 

So, where do I go from Thursday to Sunday? Well THAT is a totally different story. And THAT is something we will discuss next week.

Until then.-Benj 

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