Monday, April 19, 2004

"Green Acres is the place to be...da da da da da dee...what are the words?"

As I walked out to get my mail a little while ago, I heard a cow. Yes, a cow. "Mooooo." And, in that moment, I had a harsh realization about the changes that have taken place in my life. I'm a city-boy. I grew up in Atlanta, and nearly freaked out while I was in the speck of a town called Macon, GA for 4 years while I was in college. Then I lived in Birmingham...not a huge city, but still a city. Now I'm in...Decatur. It's like Macon...part 2.

After I heard the cow, I stood there pondering my situation. I look around and realize that Decatur is kind of a conundrum. To say that Decatur is geo-economically diverse is an understatement. To my left and right, there are cows in their respective fields. Behind my house is a corn field. But...behind the corn field are 2 massive 4-lane highways and there are massive factories just beyond them. Nestled amidst the cow pastures are new houses and a new apartment complex. On the other hand, at the entrance to our neighborhood there is - in fact - a small trailer park and what appears to be some odd place that must only exist to store busted farm equipment. In contrast, a Logan's steakhouse and a nice Hampton Inn hotel are not far away. But, there is also a junkyard within one mile. Even my house exhibits this now: My brand new 3 bedroom + bonus room house...with it's nice brick face and fenced in backyard...now has a window AC unit poking out of the side dormer window. And there is a 30-year-old car parked in my driveway with faded paint. Could it be that having lived here has made me into a walking talking symbol of my community? Am I just a redneck in a suit? (Wait...I don't wear suits...yikes...). It's like the Beverly Hillbillies, but instead of absorbing the ways of city life, it's the opposite...more and more of my life reflects the small town that I live in. Next thing you know, I'll be driving a conversion van and wearing loud shirts (LOL...oh, come on, it's funny).

Really, I like it here. Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe I've just been drinking too much of the water. Or maybe it's the close proximity to the nuclear plant. Could be any number of things, but I like it here. There's less traffic than Atlanta or Birmingham, but I still have cable TV and cable internet. Real estate is cheaper here (again, that might be the nuclear plant...I'm checking on that). So, whether I've come to enjoy life in a small town out of my own free will or having been brainwashed by countless cow pastures and billboards advertising bail bonds, I'm glad to live in a place that's not so big but basically has the conveniences I need.

Now...if I could just do something about the people who live here...(relax, Crosspoint-ers are in the clear...hehe). Again...I'm just kidding, so laugh.

Oh...in real news...Small group went well. We ate, yapped, talked about forgiveness and learning how to seriously wrestle with the sin in our lives, then had a cake for dessert that was so good it pretty much made the whole sin conversation more relevant than we thought.

KEY PHRASES: "Oooh...that's the hot dog with special seasong." "Play that funky music white boy." "Maybe they think that when we say 'turn up the bass' they think we're talking about something weird involving a fish." "J-mo...could you go back inside and get Kailyn's sippy cup?" (LOL...what an image). "Dave really shouldn't be posting his locker combination in his blog." Jeremy: "My wife's in Kentucky." Me: "Oh, so THAT'S why you made it to church today." (LOL). "He's the Asian Cajun...and he likes Kung Pao Catfish."



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