When you’re a Mississippian…

Posted on July 19, 2011 by Marshall Ramsey

When you’re a Mississippian, you’ll know someone everywhere you go. Heard of six degrees of separation? We do it in two. And if you know someone’s mama — well, two degrees gets shaved to one.  We’re one big happy family.

Land in Hartsfield/Jackson Airport (the ATL to the seasoned traveler) and be prepared to run into at least a dozen people you know. But this only applies to Mississippians.  If you’re from anywhere else, say like Idaho, you won’t know a soul.  But if you are a Mississippian, it will quickly become a high school reunion. Or a family get-together.  Or a Bunko road trip. Look! Over there, there’s the First Baptist Glee Choir flying to Seattle!

And it doesn’t stop in C Concourse. When you get on your flight, you’ll know someone. It’s even money you’ll end up sitting next to your aunt’s second-husband’s banker’s wife’s daughter.  And you’ll know her.  You’ll also know she is hiding her pregnancy from her mom.  And you won’t think anything is unusual about knowing it.

When you’re a Mississippian, you try to make connections with total strangers in the weirdest places.  I was once in a cab heading from New York’s LaGuardia Airport and I asked the cabbie who his mama was.  Really. He was from Pakistan.  His mama didn’t know me from Abdul’s house cat.  But I went ahead and asked anyway.  (My wife slipped down, out of view out of pure shame. Or fear. Our driver was driving like he just learned how to drive — and he probably just did.)  By Yankee Stadium, we were talking like old friends. I think we were 75th cousins twice removed.

A Mississippian also speaks to total strangers.  That’s OK in the South. You get a pass. But up north, well, people look at you like you’re a serial killer from Hoboken.  I made the horrible mistake (in the cashier’s eyes) of speaking to him when I was buying some aspirin.  I also had the audacity of making eye contact with him.  And for the record, no Mr. Cashier, I don’t do that to myself.  Thanks for the suggestion.

My wife and I were walking down Broadway in the middle of Manhattan.  We ran into friends who we didn’t know were traveling.  It happens. But only if you’re a Mississippian.

I even caught myself doing the uniquely Southern thing of waving at the cabs going down the street. And they were nice enough to wave back. With one finger.

Bless their hearts.  I bet I knew their mamas.

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing | 24 Comments

Defeating malaise

Posted on July 18, 2011 by Marshall Ramsey

I want to talk to you right now about a fundamental threat to American democracy. . . . I do not refer to the outward strength of America, a nation that is at peace tonight everywhere in the world, with unmatched economic power and military might. The threat is nearly invisible in ordinary ways. It is a crisis of confidence. It is a crisis that strikes at the very heart and soul and spirit of our national will. We can see this crisis in the growing doubt about the meaning of our own lives and in the loss of a unity of purpose for our nation. . . .

Jimmy Carter from 1979’s The Malaise Speech

Other than the peace part (we certainly aren’t at peace around the world right now), Carter’s infamous speech rings painfully true today.  America, the greatest nation on this Earth, is in a mental slump. We’re freaked out. Uninspired. Just clinging on for dear life. The economy over the past three years has beat us up. Our jobs have changed. We make less money. Some of us have lost our homes.

And with 70% of our economy being driven by consumer spending, that’s a huge problem. Our wallets are sealed. We’re upside down in our homes. We’ve battened down the hatches.

Our leaders, both business and political are thinking of themselves: Their next bonus. The short-term bottom line. The next election.

The one thing that Ronald Reagan did that truly made a difference was that he worked hard to make America believe in itself again.  There is no one like him on the political scene right now. As much as I’d love to see the cavalry march in from Washington, it isn’t happening.   We’re on our own.

But that’s OK. We’re capable of greatness.  We’ve proved it over and over as a nation.

We’re having a massive midlife crisis.  We’ve been knocked down — hard.  My prayer is that this country will be guided the way that it has been in the past during its deepest crises. We can lift our way out of our current malaise.  My prayer is that we find a way as a nation to do just that. To become great again.

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CARTOON: The foursome

Posted on July 18, 2011 by Marshall Ramsey

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CARTOON: Living large

Posted on July 18, 2011 by Marshall Ramsey

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Monday prayer

Posted on July 18, 2011 by Marshall Ramsey
May your plan be your rudder and your talent be your sail as you navigate through the storms of this week.
Posted in Monday Prayer | 4 Comments

Monday Free-For-All

Posted on July 18, 2011 by Marshall Ramsey

Good morning! What’s up?

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The Bottle Tree

Posted on July 18, 2011 by Marshall Ramsey

They knew it was love: She had a bottle tree and he loved to drink.

That’s just how they rolled. And they had rolled like that since that moonlit night 20 years ago.

They met at the FloraBama bar along the Alabama/Florida Gulf Coast hours after their college graduation.  He had a great smile. She, well, had a great everything else.  They danced slowly to a Buffett song. They gazed into each others’ eyes.  And they held hands as they walked along the warm June surf.

It wasn’t love at first sight, but it sure was lust.  You see, their passion was like a sparkler — burning hot, throwing sparks and quick to flare out. They married that weekend.  And the passion was gone by Tuesday. But they still made each other laugh.

And that ability to laugh pulled them through so many crises.

Her cancer. His job loss. Their bankruptcy. A pregnancy gone wrong.  A lost child. Whatever pitch life could knock them down with, they’d get back up laughing.  It was a relationship built on the strongest foundation known to man. She began where he ended. He began where she ended. A perfect circle. Like the rings on their fingers. A ring of laughter.

The gossipy ladies in the local Bunko club loved to try to judge them.  So did the local garden club members. They’d never win the yard of the month, that’s for sure.  The ladies at the local Baptist church prayed for them.  Their neighbors called them eccentric. The couple nodded and smiled at all of them. And then laughed even harder.

He loved how her blue eyes crinkled when she chuckled.  She still loved his smile.

They walked together. They ate together. They told bad jokes together. But most importantly, they laughed together. Day in. And day out.

Laughter was the glue that held them together.  It was the bond that made them so strong. They made their annual toast to it — To that night at the FloraBama. And they drained another bottle. To their life together. To the good, the bad and the laughter. To the 20th bottle on their bottle tree. Their bottle tree of life.

They looked at the tacky tree and laughed some more. That’s just how they rolled.

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M-Braves

Posted on July 17, 2011 by Marshall Ramsey

20110717-055013.jpg

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Sign of true love…

Posted on July 17, 2011 by Marshall Ramsey

They knew it was love: She had a bottle tree and he loved to drink.

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Failed recruitment commercial

Posted on July 17, 2011 by Marshall Ramsey

Work daily in a place full of hurried, grumpy people.  Smell their foot odor as you make sure nutjobs bent on destroying the United States are stopped.  As a bonus, you get to search old ladies’ and babies’ diapers and feel-up fat, sweaty people to make sure they aren’t smuggling weapons in their fat cracks.

Be a TSA agent. It’s not just a job. It’s an adventure.

Posted in Writing | 2 Comments