Archives for 2012

Sound of Silence

November 26, 2012 By Talya Tate Boerner

hello darkness my old friend

I’ve come to talk to you again

People talk too much. Uncomfortable with silence, they fill every quiet moment with noise. Television or iTunes. Incessant chatter.

I love the richness of silence. Silence has its own dimension, allowing the brain to create new thoughts, solve problems, remember.

Watching game after game of football Thanksgiving weekend, the unceasing narration began to irritate. A stream of yammering, often nonsensical filler, by grown men who love to hear themselves talk. Do they get paid by the syllable? Predictions and play-by-play commentary. Heisman watch. Coulda woulda shoulda...

people talking without speaking

people hearing without listening

I love football, but would like to mute the sound yet still hear the Baylor Fight song played by the band after each touchdown.

Today my house is calm. I write. The only sound is the simmer of purple hull peas on the stove and the occasional jingle of the dogs’ collars. Birds chirp outside my window.

The sound is deafening.

talya

Musical Pairing

Sound of Silence, Simon & Garfunkel

Dogpatch Telepathy

November 25, 2012 By Talya Tate Boerner

Jenny

When my friend Jenny and I worked together at the bank, we often joked about our witch powers.We both had a talent for summoning customers with only a slight mention of the customer’s name. A word in passing, and the customer was in the drive-thru that afternoon.

Me: Have you seen Bob lately?
Jenny: Not in five years…

And there he’d be, standing at the teller counter… This was a gift when attempting to collect bad debts, but eerie to the point we trained ourselves NOT to speak or think of certain people…

I still have this power.

Vintage Serving Tray, The Posh Pearl, Fayetteville

Friday morning I saw a Dogpatch USA serving tray in a Fayetteville vintage shop. Memories flooded me. Growing up in the 1970s, Dogpatch was an exciting Arkansas summer destination. Based on the comic strip Li’l Abner, Dogpatch was home to Daisy Mae, Mammy and Pappy Yokum, Moonbeam McSwine and a slew of other fun-lovin’, cornpone yokels. The theme park included a trout-filled lake—catch your own dinner(!)—paddle boats and a train ride that was held up at gunpoint by a band of moonshine-making robbers.

Dogpatch was greatness.

Dogpatch celebrated hillbilly.

Later Friday night, I quizzed my sister-in-law. Do you remember Dogpatch? Did you go there as a child? I told her about my high school friend, Timmy Stone, who had a summer job playing Pappy Yokum… A talented actor—he WAS Pappy Yokum that summer. After sharing this with her, she recalled her sorority sister played Daisy Mae…

What are the odds? We are both one degree removed from Dogpatch.

Daisy Mae, Mammy Yokum and Pappy Yokum (Tim Stone)

One hour later—I received a Facebook message from Tim Stone. Pappy Yokum himself! Haven’tHeardFromHimInForever… Apparently I sent him some sort of Dogpatch telepathy.

As funny as ever, his entire message was typed without using the letter “T”. Instead, the “T” was replaced with “R”. I had no idea why he did this, but I played along…

Tim: I’m cheering for Baylor roday.
Me: Yay!
Tim: Musr be working. Rhey are doing grear!
Me: Rhanks!
Tim: Do you remember why there are no “T’s”?
Me: Ummmm, no? Why?
Tim: In high school typing class, I couldn’t get down the letter T. Everything I typed had an R instead of a T. YOU typed me a note explaining that I was going to have a difficult life if I didn’t learn how to type T’s. You typed, and I quote: “You won’t even be able to type your own name, Rimmy Srone!” LOL.

Funny what people remember.

I wonder if my sister-in-law heard from Daisy Mae?

Sadly, the remains of Dogpatch rot deep in the Ozark Mountains, abandoned by humans and almost completely reclaimed by Mother Nature. An ancient buried hillbilly civilization. Creepy. But I recall many fun summer days there.