I grew up in the country. A small town, limited street lights, no actual street address until 911 made us go from PO Box F to 314 West Fourth Street.
Our address always cracked me up. We lived on the corner of Fourth Street and Fourth Avenue, and our town had no more than 12 "Streets" or "Avenues" in it. Yet we lived where Fourth Avenue and Fourth Street met. Really?
"Outsiders" would drive into town, and if, for some strange reason, they had a hard time finding our house, they could go to the local E-Z Mart and ask, "Can I get directions to Linsley's". The reply would always be, "Sure, take this road, pass the grocery store, turn right directly past Lance's Butcher Block, go three blocks and you'll see her car." It was that easy.
Well, since I was 18-years-old, I've lived in a city. I went to college in Fayetteville, from Fayetteville to DC, from DC to here. You might think that after a mere 10 years my country upbringing would hang on. Apparently not.
Since moving to our new house, which backs up to the woods in the middle of Little Rock, I've realized that I'm not so accustomed to the country anymore. As I write this post, I hear noises in the woods behind our house. Is that noise a racoon, which can carry rabies? Is that noise a dog from a nearby home, which can bite my hand off? Is that noise a criminal coming from the nearby park, who could rape me on the back deck? Or is that noise a wolf ready to rip my eyes straight out of my head?
I thought I was a fearless woman. Apparently my childhood country life and my adolescent city life have only made me a fearless woman when I'm inside with the doors locked.
What in the hell has happened to me? Bring me a group of disadavanged farmers who can't make a living on their own. I can help them. Bring me a small community that needs help with a grant. I can help them. But that strange noise I hear in the woods that sounds a lot like a monkey in the middle of Little Rock, and I lose my shit.
So much for "I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar." I can only hear "I'm Hungry Like a Wolf."
L.
Friday, February 1, 2008
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