grace grits and gardening

ramblings from an arkansas farm girl

Turning Gay in Dallas

By

Setting: Expensive Dallas Hair Salon – Shampoo Room
Characters: 
Myrtle – shampoo lady
Lottie – shampoo lady
Me – customer with dark roots
Ms. Bettye – customer with gray roots

gay

Myrtle:  How’re you today honey?
Me:  I’m good. How are you?
Myrtle: Thanking the good Lord to be alive.
Lottie: She’s crazy as ever.
Myrtle: Lottie you hush your mouth. Baby, you just sit right back and let Ms. Myrtle take good care of your hair.
Me: Ok.
shampoo ladies chatting during my shampoo….
Myrtle: Margarita lost that baby bless her heart.
Lottie: Oh girl no she didn’t!
Myrtle: Um-hm. Been bleedin’ all night.
Lottie: Bless her heart but she done got seven chil’ren.
Myrtle: Lord’s way of telling her.
Lottie: Poor chile.
Myrtle: Um-hm.
glancing to door…
Myrtle: You mean to tell me Joe’s done fell again?
Lottie: Oh lordy mercy I guess so.
Myrtle: That poor man.
Lottie: Um-hm.
Myrtle: Joe you done fell again?
Joe: Yup, using my old cane.
Together: Well bless your heart.
to Ms. Bettye being shampooed next to me….
Lottie: Ms. Bettye I looooove that necklace. What’s that stone?
Ms. Bettye: Oh Lottie, I don’t remember. I’ve had it for prob’ly forty years.
Lottie: Myrtle, you see this necklace?
Myrtle: (Myrtle drowning my head to look.) That is very beautiful Ms. Bettye.
Lottie: You driving again Ms. Bettye?
Ms. Bettye: Oh no, my friend drove me. We’ve been friends for forty years.
Lottie: Isn’t that nice.
Myrtle: Ms.Bettye, did you know Joe done fell again?
Ms. Bettye: Oh no. Bless his heart.
to each other during my rinse….
Lottie: You know Hector done turned gay.
Myrtle: No! How you know?
Lottie: Margarita tole me.
Myrtle: ‘fore she lost that baby?
Lottie: Yes ma’am. His wife done throw’d him out.
Myrtle: Lawsy what’s wrong with him?
Lottie: Don’t know. She said one day he was fine and the next day he turned gay right after work.
Myrtle: What’s this world comin’ to?
Lottie: Sinful.
Myrtle: Bless her heart.
Me: Coughing. Gagging.
wrapping up my wet head in a towel…
Myrtle: There you go honey. You all done now.
Me: Thank you. Myrtle, you know people don’t just turn gay. Right?
Silence. Pin dropping silence.
Me: Seriously. People don’t turn gay. It’s genetic. You either are or you aren’t.
Myrtle and Lottie exchange quick knowing looks.
Best friends and co-workers for fifty years, they share the same thoughts.
They have one mind.
Lottie: Honey chile’ I think Myrtle done got water up in your head.
Myrtle: What’s this world coming to?
Lottie: Sinful.
Myrtle: Bless your heart.

Laughing. Hysterical laughter. At me.

turning gay

Grace Grits and Gardening

Musical Pairings:
They’re Coming to Take Me Away, Napoleon XIV

Homer Simpson to Bart: He didn’t give you gay, did he? Did he?

A Ticket in Atoka

By

Atoka, Oklahoma
Population 3,250

Driving through eastern Oklahoma where the wind comes whippin’ down the plains is a whippin’. JustPlainBoring. You gotta be from there to love it. Carrie Underwood and those devoted OU Sooners call the Cherokee nation heavenly, but I have to use my imagination.

The drive is an unofficial tollroad for Razorback fans consisting of speed trap towns strung together just close enough that I don’t fall asleep behind the wheel. As I blink entering the outskirts of these tiny Oklahoma towns, the speed limit rapidly decreases from 75 to 45 within half the distance of a football field. Identifying the ‘outskirts’ is tricky too. It all looks the same. 
Between these speed traps, when the road is bare and nondescript without even tumbleweeds to break the monotony, there are miles and miles of orange highway department cones. Alleged highway construction. Fines quadruple in work zones…

In the 1800s, this route was part of the Butterfield Overland Stage Road for mail delivery. I can easily imagine buffalo grazing and cowboys riding through the prairie grass. I entertain myself attempting to pronounce the wild-indian-named towns such as Poteau and Chocotah and Tahlequah. I look for the Eufaula prison trash gang – I have fond memories of the lunch we shared together once upon a time.
I stay alert by watching for escaped prisoners-turned-hitchhikers around the Oklahoma State Penitentiary at McAlester. And the next Choctaw Casino headliner is always big news. Rick Springfield on 09-13.
I try not to speed. I am very aware. However, a few miles on the other side of Atoka, blue lights behind me. Some sucker is getting stopped. Some sucker will be paying a toll.

I was that sucker. I got a ticket in Atoka. Oh the alliteration.
Deputy Fife – How are you today?
Me – Great! And you?
Lucy and Annabelle – Whining loudly in back.
Deputy Fife – Do you know why I stopped you?
Me – No sir. Really I didn’t.
Deputy Fife – I stopped you because you were going 69 in a 55 back before Atoka.
Me – Really? I know I slowed down to 45 by the time I was driving through – I looked at my speedometer.
Deputy Fife – Not soon enough. I followed you doing 69 for miles.
Me – Miles? Did you say miles? There are no miles in Atoka….! From one end to the other might be a half mile…..! (I only thought this. I didn’t actually say any of this. I still thought I might charm my way out of a ticket. Silly me.)
Lucy and Annabelle – Howling loudly in back.
Deputy Fife – Are you heading back home to Texas?
Me – Yes, sir. Still smiling. 
Deputy Fife – Do you have a clean driving record?
Me – Yes sir. I handed over my insurance and driver’s license. He went to his car while I re-thought my driving outfit. Not nearly charming enough…
Lucy and Annabelle – Vicious.
Barney came back and explained how he would do me a favor and defer my ticket. For a mere $160 he wouldn’t report it to the State of Oklahoma nor to my insurance. Atoka gets to keep the entire ‘toll’ rather than sending a cut to the state…
Of course I’m glad it won’t be reported to my insurance, but this whole “here’s what I’m gonna do for you little lady” thing rubbed me wrong. This was a modern day Atoka stagecoach robbery! Barney rightfully assumes no one wants to spend $50 in gasoline to make the fabulous drive back to Atoka to dispute a $160 ticket. Who wants to spend the day at the Atoka courthouse?
Me! I have nothing better to do on October 3. Anyone want to join me for lunch in Atoka? It’s a lovely drive this time of year. If there were any trees, the leaves would be changing. 

talya

Musical Pairings:

A donkey ride through hell. – Constance Snodgrass Donels

Jessie’s Girl – Rick Springfield

Undo It – Carrie Underwood

The Calm, the Storm and the Wolverine

By

Leaving Fayetteville yesterday morning, a cloud burst over me. The rain pelted down hard enough to wash the sticky tree sap and smeared travel bugs from my windshield. At the same time, the sun flooded in from the East. A sunshower. The devil was beating his wife. Who did the devil marry? I’m not sure I ever learned this in Sunday School.

Behind me, an amazing double rainbow. Beyond the interstate, in the lowest point of the valley, the rainbow seemed to end at an old white barn, the blurry colors filtered around the roof. I always knew barns were special. I wondered if there was a pot of gold inside?

For a split second I thought about chasing the rainbow, trying to drive down the mountainside. Instead, I veered off at the next exit to snap a quick picture. This slight break in the drive was enough to upset Lucy and Annabelle. They thought we were already back in Dallas. Even so, the disruption was worth the stop.

Back on the road toward Fort Smith, Annabelle was extremely restless, whining and trembling. At this rate, a long drive home. Clearly, she wanted to see that pot of gold.
I was still thinking about that rainbow, feeling a bit sad to leave Arkansas. Was it a sign we were driving in the wrong direction? No time to wallow in this nostalgia. The moment we drove into Oklahoma, Annabelle projectile vomited from her backseat crate onto my arm, the floor board and the bottom of her crate cushion. Linda-Blair-head-spinning-chunky-dog-puke. 
Pawn Shop, Vian, Ok
Suddenly I found myself in Vian, Oklahoma, in an empty parking lot wedged between Big Pawn (We Buy Gold) and ShortStop (Home of the Bar-b–que Train). One ironic, both sketchy. Directly across the highway, the Vian High School Marching Wolverine Band held an early morning practice. With only about twenty-five band members, the music sounded surprisingly decent. I love a good marching band and easily recognized Proud Mary. Singing along I cleaned dog puke from every crease and crevice of myself and my car with a dry Wet One. Annabelle appeared tired and weak. Lucy was simply embarrassed. 
During this Oklahoma out-of-body experience, I realized…. I already have my pot of gold.

And I also thought…. I have no earthly idea what a Wolverine is. 

talya
Musical Pairings:
The wolverine, pronounced /ˈwʊlvəriːn/, Gulo gulo (Gulo is Latin for “glutton”), also referred to as glutton, carcajou, skunk bear, or quickhatch, is the largest land-dwelling species of the family Mustelidae. (Wikipedia)
clear as mud…. 

Food. Farm. Garden. Life.

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