Tondeleo: I love rural Americans. They are so different from anything we have in the U.K. or even in Europe. Most of them are fiercely independent. On the downside, this can also manifest itself in mistrust of strangers, bigotry, resentment of the rich and powerful.
Many of them tend to be fatalistic and highly resistant to change. Any change, on any level. Many of them have no drive for self improvement whatever, and would rather watch TV and drink than take a class at the local college or university.
If they had even a spark of ambition or the belief that they could change, they would hop in their trucks, put in in four wheel drive and drive out of the swamp of ignorance that they have called home for as long as anyone could remember.
At the same time they can be very inventive. Just go online and look at some of the inventiveness of the ones who live in mobile homes, or "trailers." Look up words like "redneck" in any photo search engine. You will be amazed at how they can make do with just about any piece of rubbish they can find.
But they don't want "change." The idea is, "Change is bad, same is good." They may not LIKE how things are, but they won't change. They have some other ideas that are similar and that keep them in their well worn ruts. According to them, change is to be regarded with suspicion, and is certain to wreck their established way of life.
"New is bad, old is good." A man can drive his 1985 pickup truck that's rusted out, gets 12 miles to the gallon of petrol, leaks oil, and has exhaust fumes coming up through the floor, and he will swear to God that his truck is far superior to the latest model that gets 22 miles per gallon, has air conditioning, power brakes, is quiet, dependable and has a 3 year warranty. He will look at that new truck and say "Yeh, they don't build 'em like they used to." And what he is saying is that the old ones are better!
"City is bad, country is good." I took one of Doc's friends with me to Washington, DC last year, to a section called Georgetown, which is an entertainment mecca. There are restaurants, theatres, clubs, and interesting people everywhere. Darrell just kept shaking his head in disgust.
"What do people do for fun, what live here?" he asked.
I couldn't believe that! I rattled off the list of things to do: Eat, listen to music, dance, take in a play, or a film, etc. He wasn't convinced.
"That stuff ain't no fun," he said.
Exasperated, I asked, "OK, so what do you do for fun in Nanjemoy on a Friday night? There's nothing to do!"
He looked shocked. " Whaddya mean, aint nothin' to do in Nanjemoy on a Friday night? They's all KINDS of things to do! Things what you can't do in this so called Georgetown which ain't nothin' but a bunch of city people."
Naively, I asked just exactly what WAS there to do in Nanjemoy on the weekends?
Darrell began to spill out opportunity after opportunity:
"Well, you and the boys can go coon [raccoon] huntin'. That's fun. You have a few beers, get your dogs an' go out and kill some coons. You can do that ANY night, not just on Friday or Saturday. Bet you ain't even never done that, have you, Tondy?"
I admitted I hadn't.
"You can go deer huntin' at night, too. They's a little easier at night, 'cause if you shine a spotlight in they's eyes, they just stand there waitin' for you to shoot 'em. It's like 'run to the light!'"
I told him I thought that is probably illegal, but Darrell said that you ain't supposed to go ask permission first! You just do it.
"We go up to Scott's Store in McConchie. That's fun. You get people from all 'round, like from Marbury, Pisgah, Welcome, Ironsides. They got bands there an' it's just as good a time as a man could want.
"If you play music, you can get together an' play music over at Doc an' Marilyn's or Schloggie's (I am certain I misspelled that one) or anyone else's place. If you can't play, you can go over an' listen. That's fun an' it don't cost nuthin.
"I like to go out to the barn an' work on my mud bogger truck, when I got the money for parts. I aim to be drivin' it next Spring. Ain't got no mud-boggin' in Georgetown.
"Sometimes, we just get a few guys together an' chip in to put some gas in the car, and chip in more money to buy a case of beer, and then pick up some ladies an' go ridin' aroun' til we're outta gas an' beer. That's fun. There's all kinds of fun you can have right here that you ain't need to go to La Plata, Waldorf, or that so called Georgetown for. I ain't goin' back there again."
What can I say?
