When we told our friends we were moving to Georgia for a few months, only a few world-wise folks asked us to clarify between Georgia the state and Georgia the country. Now that we're here, I'm beginning to wonder which it is myself.
This adventure has already produced a post-card worthy description of my new, temporary life:
"The people are very nice, the food is OK, we can't drink the water and being here makes us appreciate all we have back home."
The town of Brunswick is right on the Atlantic Ocean, but has a swampy, wetlands feel more than a beach town. Though old neighborhoods boast huge, beautiful, street-filling trees older than most of the residents, there are new sections of town that bring the comfort of every-where America. You know, the shopping centers with all the familiar big box stores and restaurants copy-and-pasted from corporate headquarters in suburbs all over.
Though only here 48 hours so far, I have a feeling this will be a fertile ground for my stated goal - to write. John is in training 6 days a week, and though I might seek some employment, I plan to focus on my long-forsaken dream to be a writer. Who knows what I'll write, but some of the people I've met already deserve a mention.
Like the lady sharing my table at Books-a-Million (right next to the Staples right next to the Rack Room Shoes...). She was probably in her 60s, accompanied by who I guess was her son, a middle-aged guy with Down's Syndrome. She was reading a magazine with Hillary Clinton on the cover, he was reading a book about the coach of the Cowboys. I was reading Stephen Colbert's book "I am America and so can you," (and laugh-out-louding about every 5 seconds). She turns to me and asks "Are you old enough to vote?" Flattered and proud, I answered, "yes, I am." We proceeded to have a nice conversation about our favorite candidates (her's Hillary, mine Huckabee) and the upcoming race. It was so nice to have that kind of dialogue with a Washington outsider.
Then as she fluttered around the cafe (everyone knows everyone here) I asked the gentleman if he liked the Cowboys. He started to tell me about his two favorite teams (Cowboys and Bears, he can't help it, he just likes both of them) and brag about their coaches. Maybe it was prejudicial of me, but I just loved him and wanted to keep talking to him. My baby nephew has Down's Syndrome and I liked the thought of him 40 years from now, reading and discussing his favorite things with a nice stranger in a book store.
Then, the lady came back and asked me if I was in school. Bless her heart. I told her how I just got out of the Air Force after 6 years. She said, "I'm so glad you did." I tried to explain how much I liked the service and how good it had been to me. She butted in, "I just couldn't stand to see a cute girl like you on two artificial legs." I thanked her and she and her son left (but not before he offered me the Cowboys book, since I had told him I liked the Cowboys, too).
So, maybe I'll just write about stuff like that. I couldn't make it up if I tried. You should stay tuned...
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