Turning The (right) Corner

Tim moved to Orlando last January. I moved here almost five months ago. Seems like lifetime ago and basically is.

It's taken me a hot minute but am finally settling into a comfortable groove. Having Massey here with me has hands down been my saving salvation and owe the kid big time. 

I have to talk about every feeling, every time I have one. Tim says about twenty words a day and keeps his feelings to himself. I like to share mine, he likes to hoard his.

Oh trust me, we are the Clampetts... with Duke times three. We're just waiting for Jed to find that  Black Gold,Texas Tea.

My Georgia accent and southern sayings stick out like a sore thumb here in Orlando. Not too many people mention it, unless I'm at work. Then it's brought to my attention at least five times a shift. What's really sad is that I try extremely hard to reign it in and enunciate words properly when waiting tables. If I get busy, you can forget about me speaking the correct way. Panic mode demands my complete concentration, which isn't all that much to start with.

They still can't get used to me "fixin" to do or ask for something. My pronunciation of the word "Pudding" needs some serious work. It's always been "Pud'un" to me. I sell anywhere from ten to twenty of our "Butterscotch-Toffee Sticky Bread Puddings" every shift at work and have to literally stop and concentrate on pronouncing it correctly.

Last night in the fresh hell called Valentine's Day Dinner Shift another server and I were searching for a water pitcher. There's never even a quarter full one when you need it. You can always find ten almost completely empty ones though, with enough combined water to fill a thimble. The server is a young college student, and one of my favorite servers. We were both pawing through the group of pitchers at the service station and I lucked up to find one with enough to fill the one glass I needed to fill. I found another one with a little less and offered it to him, saying "Here's another one with a smatterin'  if that will help." He cocked his head to the side and asked "What does that even mean?"

I started laughing and said it meant just a little bit. He's the cutest kid, ever. He's very dark skinned and originally thought he was from India until were rolling silverware in the back together one night chatting with each other. He told me his parents were originally from Guyana in South America. I immediately said "Don't drink the Kool-Aid". I'd never heard of Guyana before Jim Jones went all nuts down there in his made up town of Jonestown in 1978. Of course all this happened long before he was even born but launched us into another discussion about all that craziness. He's smart, extremely polite and one of the nicest people I've ever met. He's so nice to me at work, always cheerfully saying "Hi, Kelly!" every time he sees me come in... or any other time we run into each other during the shift. It's  become our running joke. 

I thought Atlanta was a melting pot but have discovered the closer you live to a port city the more diverse people you meet. I like it!

I like that people want to move to the United States. It means we are a desirable place to live and makes me proud of my country.

As us Clampetts turn our corner, hope our country chooses the right corner to turn as well.

"Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Nine Eleven shook this nation to its very core. It shook the world. It shook me. Yes it was an act of horrific terrorism, but it wasn't carried out by the Muslim religion. It was carried out by humans who were terrorists, falsely claiming to being true Muslims.

Every religion, every ethnicity and both genders have one thing in common.

You're either a good human or a bad human.

We, as Americans should welcome every person seeking a better life to our shores.

Trust me, (unfortunately) have plenty of bad guys here already who are American and just happen to be white as rice. Just imagine how many more there are we haven't caught?

Bad people come from every race and every religion.

Should there be a vetting process? Absolutely.

Maybe we should have started at home.

Let's start with our own politicians, big business icons, and work our way down to common criminals.

We're all in this game of life together, so shouldn't we all work together to solve life's puzzle instead of tear each other apart and be so lazy we simply point fingers at each other?

I often times look at my own self in the mirror and ask what more I can do?

It's us. It's me. It's you.

I got plenty of crazy in me, some to spare and then some.

I'm all about shaking things up. I've learned the hard way, change is good.

It always involves moving ahead, sometimes in ways you don't necessarily want but if you try hard enough and do it right...the results will amaze you.

He had so many things go wrong in his life but achieved so much with his gift of music and message.

Before casting stones, take a look in the mirror.

Hug someone, love someone, accept someone. 

Even the hippies knew it back in 1970.

So not only am I crazy, but crazy about music (especially older tunes) and the message it sends. Singing and musicality mean a lot more to me than hearing a bunch of hoo haws and back biting from people who are supposed to be running this country.

Get a grip on the real deal...I had to and so can you.

I leave you with this one last video.

The best one.

If a black man growing up way before the forties, fifties and sixties in America can make this statement and sing this song, should not only be ashamed of ourselves by how our ancestors treated African Americans but also be ashamed of how we treat immigrants wanting a better life...our life, in today's tumultuous times.

True Facts. Trust me, I checked them all.

Til next time...a very grateful COTTON