Please... please, just don't!

I have recently come to the conclusion that I may actually be rotten to the core.

I'm finding that with each additional day that I'm alive... something new grates on my nerves.

the latest culprit... whistling!

I totally understand that the first person to ever whistle was likely lauded as the hero of the tribe... and honestly, I can see that it probably came in handy to the cave people who needed to communicate across long distances... or who simply needed it as their sole musical instrument...

but... now, we have cell phones and too many musical instruments to even count!!! In Fact, MANY of them are represented in apps on my phone!

last week, I was walking though Wal-Mart... so you can assume I was already at "World Hatred Level 7" when across the store I heard it! That airy, keyless, uncontrolled mouth warble!

This guy was apparently extremely happy to be walking through Wal Mart!

I tell you, I could hear it across the entire store...

At first, it was just a slight annoyance... but as it continued, I felt the RAGE FILLING MY BODY!

I HAD to track this guy down!

So I began my hunt... slinking though the racks of 5 dollar jeans and t-shirts that attempted to capture the trends of last year....

Then, across the bra section... I caught a glimpse of him...

I QUICKLY ducked so he wouldn't see me... then it occurred to me that I'm a 38 year old man bobbing and weaving in the BRA section!!! So I quickly mad it to the pets section.

All the while, that tuneless... off pitch abomination CONTINUED!

I mean, ever so often I'd hear a tiny section of his puckered performance that sounded a little familiar... "Ohhhh... that's Amazing Grace... wait! No... it's Lady Gaga..."

I just couldn't imagine how someone could be so unaware.... so full of themselves that they must pollute the ears of the world with this wretched harmony.

As I continued my hunt... weaving down aisles and around people who were hogging entire walkways with their apparent FAMILY REUNION going on!!!!

This is when I started thinking about what I would say to this tonal terrorist! Working the whole conversation out in my mind..."What the HELL do you think you're doing!?!?!? If we wanted to HEAR that whistley crap, we'd pop in a Mariah Carey CD!!!""" Yeah, THAT'S what I'll tell him!

Finally, I could tell I was getting closer... "He MUST be heading to the checkout!!!

At that moment, I felt more determined than I EVER HAD.... I wheeled around the Cards aisle and set my sights on him.... at that moment... I finally focussed on more than the pulsating rage that was giving me tunnel vision... The whistler.... was a priest! A PRIEST for God's sake... literally!

I couldn't spew forth my planned script of strong words and snide comments to a PRIEST!?!? I started checking for boils or other signs of plague considering all the INCREDIBLY IRREVERENT thoughts I had about him! I mean, in the old testament, people were smote for less, am I right? Besides, I have pretty much lived with the belief that there is a giant "lightning bolt attracting" target on the top of my head... That's why God made me so tall!!!

At the end of the day, I realized 3 things.

1... as much as I hate to accept it... I am not the supervisor in charge of all things acceptable in the free world.

2... I am not Catholic.

and 3... Never go to Wal-Mart without taking Xanex and my headphones for my iPod!

Southern Musings...

Have you ever noticed how, in the south, we accept so many strange phrases and improper uses of tense?

I was outside working on the pool when I realized I go Mosquito bit.... see? That's totally acceptable! Even though in the rest of the free world people would likely say they had been bitten by a mosquito.

Or how about those people who have no clue about the anatomy of a southern critter... they just come in and say "I got stung by a mosquito"... WHAT? Silly Yankee...

There are so many things that have become part of our language that just seem odd sometimes...

For years, when people asked me to do something I didn't want to do, I'd say "I'd druther not". DRUTHER? That's not even a word, is it?

These southernisms have permeated even the most sacred chapels of the written word... the news room.

I can remember SEVERAL conversations over the years about words that may or may not exist... One example comes to mind.... "Tump" ... (Can you use it in a sentence) Be careful, you're liable to tump that pot over! (can i have a definition?) to force or cause something to fall over.

See, even without my definition, you totally knew what I was talking about, right? I bet you even pictured the hand motions that go along with the warning that you might tump something over...

And then there are the REAL words that we give a new twist! Who hasn't had to go get some "warshin powders" for an older family member? I mean, without them, how can they rainch out their clothes?

I remember my little pentecostal Nanny had a whole SLEW of words she made her own...

For years I thought the act of quickly bringing something to a boil before chilling it was actually called "Blainching" ... As in ... "to make poke salet, you have to rainch it... blainch it... rainch it again then bawl it... otherwise it's pison"

You know, I joke a lot about my backwoods heritage.. but I love it! I absolutely miss the days of hearing that all too familiar cadence and drawl.

Before the world told me it sounded silly, I thought it sounded warm... wholesome... it meant I was home, with people I love!

I often write about my time in Waldron, Arkansas... I didn't actually "grow up" there. We actually lived in Barling, Arkanasas most of my childhood.

But whenever there was a break from school... a holiday... or just a week when times were tough for my Mom and Dad, we raced to Waldron for our salvation.

Whether my cousin Sandy and I were playing in "Memaw's Branch" (our great grandmother's ditch that occasionally housed a snapping turtle or some wayward silver bellies) or I was walking with my cousin Angie from my Nanny's house out on East 80 to Walmart out on the bypass! (trust me, that was a much longer walk than we expected) All of the memories I have of Waldron are safe ones!

Waldron is where we went when things got rough! It was sort of like base, once you were there... you were safe.

So even now when I'm feeling down... when I'm longing for lost days... I think back to the days of Bethel's Dry Goods and Ben Franklin... and I always smile.