Object Lessons: Rantings of a Lone Pamphleteer
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Back in the Southland Again

May 15, 2001
The drive home is always the same -- down I-95 to the split of I-85 past Petersburg, VA, through a backwoods wasteland where my cell phone won't receive a signal, down through Durham and Greensboro to I-40 West, and ride that home to Winston-Salem. The family is the same, home overflowing with paperwork and Southern cooking. My sister's home hasn't changed, either -- an acre of land supporting a small though comfortable house on a cul-de-sac corner, brimming with children, only two of them hers.
Life is good and easy in the South, or so it seems. Of course, when I visit nowadays, I'm always on vacation, so perhaps that is just my perception.
I never "do" much down here -- run around from my mother's home to my sister's, from there to my Granny's assisted-living residence in Clemmons. I'm guilty of preferring to spend most of the time with my sister.
But I see other friends as well; college chums and buddies crop up on every trip, plus the children they're now raising. Though I always enjoy my trips home, what I notice most often is how out-of-place I now am/I was then.

'Tis true, 'tis pity, and pity 'tis, 'tis true.
--the original Shak.



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