Posted on

An Arkansas State of Mind

An Arkansas State of Mind

Share

An Arkansas State of Mind

It's all good.

And totally unexpected, even though it was nearly thirty years in the making. I am an Arkansan in fact, in heart and soul and mind.

It all started when I petted the first horse I ever saw – being the city boy from Memphis that I was – and this animal was big and a bit intimidating to me, having been to the zoo only once in my life and not being accustomed to farm animals in the slightest.

When it snorted at me while I was standing there brushing its mane, I jumped and thought this beast might be mad or scared, when it was neither.

I was the only one who was one of those things.

You guess which.

The day I was married, my wife and I went to a local horse show.

Then I was introduced to a tractor.

My wife, being the country girl she was, could run the thing like a kitchen blender. And I knew something about a straight-shift car, luckily. Only a car didn't have a sharp set of discs right behind a driver's seat, nor a metal contraption with a pair of spinning sharpened blades as long as my arm whirring in my ear – they call it a bush hog.

And I cut pasture grass with it. And many times since.

I had a hard time sleeping because it was too quiet out here.

Every time I needed something, I had to drive into town for it, so I developed the skill of making lists. Even more importantly, I realized the need to remember to pick up the list and put it in my pocket when I went shopping. A fair amount of angst was caused by that, and additional mileage on my vehicles.

My computer speed was dial-up for years… until a citified subdivision down the road was built and the cable-link to it was upgraded. I happened to be sitting between the subdivision and the hookup, so I got upgraded too.

Hoo-ha!

No more counting bytes on my screen from slow-connection speeds.

Then I found out the importance of feeding bacteria packs into the septic tank once a month. And not running over the fill lines with the tractor tires and mashing them, making the tank back up.

I allowed the electric folks to come on my property to install a light per my neighbor's request, 'cause it's the right thing to do. Meanwhile, I wondered why there was standing water on my property after I bought acreage next door and found my neighbor's fill lines were on my side of the line.

I never said anything about it until now.

No need. It's part of being a neighbor.

Then a new family moved in next door on the other side of me.

And they became our friends.

I wonder about the neighbor situation in the big city – if it was the same thing. I'd seen the folks living next to my parent's old home in Frayser when I went to visit them from time to time.

Not so much, I'd say.

Fellow workers in Memphis used to make fun of me for being on the other side of the river and my increasingly-rural ways of talking and acting.

But I'd seen both sides of the river.

I went to a large department store in Memphis one day. I might have related this before…I put an article on the counter and the clerk raised her eyes at me and asked, “Are you from Arkansas?” I thought maybe what I was purchasing looked small-town or quaint or something and got a little offended.

I countered with, “Why? You smell the cow manure on my boots or something?”

Her eyes widened at that.

“No,” she said in a small voice. “You are wearing an Arkansas cap.”

I had forgotten I had it on. “Oh, right…” I said, feeling like a dope. Moving on.

So, when a spanking-new store opens in West Memphis, it's a big event, 'cause we don't have as many fine places as Memphis and it saves us a long drive. Meanwhile, I order online on the Internet, if I have a hankering for something special I can't get without a long trip to Metropolis.

Not everything gets fixed in a timely manner. But it will still be there when I get back to it. When my grass all gets mowed, I feel like I've accomplished something. My priorities have changed.

And my outlook.

I don't like loud noises, or folks misbehavin', or the whole notion of people carrying concealed handgunseven it they are legal. And it isn't like I'm against the right to bear arms. I'm not. I would just rather people behaved themselves because it is the right thing to do, if for no other reason than…well, it's the right thing to do, darn it!

Worse than seeing that they don't, is the whole notion that we even have to mention it in the first place. Which, I believe is the reason for the afore-mentioned concealed handguns.

It's crazy out there, folks. But, I think it would be better if we all had an Arkansas State of Mind.

By Robert L. Hall

LAST NEWS
Scroll Up