And into the clean south. I'm not altogether joking. Those of you with delicate constitutions proceed with caution.
Atlanta, Georgia is different from Williamsburg, Virginia. The drivers drive more maniacally, the weather is stormier, and there are 800% more billboards. Azaleas explode. Hills roll. The people - the longtime residents - are much, much different than Virginians. The accent is obvious, but deeper than the accent is...well, I think Uncle Ray sums it up.
Uncle Ray is awesome. He's Richie's mom's brother, born and raised in Cabbagetown just like Richie's mom. I think he enjoys the attention we give him, so he usually swings by when we visit Richie's folks. He is tall and wide but not fat. He has square shoulders, a square jaw, and even square hair. He usually arrives wearing sweat pants a little high-up and a quilted plaid jacket over a tee-shirt. And a UGA baseball cap. In fact, I think everything he had on Saturday invoked the name of that sweet-spirited University. I think that level of UGA advertisement is beyond letting everyone know you support the team. I think Uncle Ray may get a good feeling each time he sees "UGA," and so he's maximizing his chances of catching a glimpse of the logo.
When Ray came into the living room the girls were cuddled up with Nana watching cartoons. I explained that they have to load up on high-definition cartoons while they're at Nana and Poppy's because we don't own a television. To which Ray replied, "Why ain't you got a T.V.?" And I dutifully started explaining in the least-superior way I could that we actually had one that we got rid of because we just spend so much time watching TV... It can really be such a big time suck. To which Ray wrinkled up his nose and said "Bull." And then let his word hang in the air. Then he said, "Well if you need one, I got an extra."
A little later, Richie's dad was remarking that a tornado tore through a cove of Lake Lanier and messed up every dock and threw a tree on a brand-new Lexus. Ray immediately said, in front of the girls, "That was just like the one I knocked the shit out of downtown the other day." He went on to explain that the driver got out of the car livid because the lady in front of Ray had ceded the right of way to the driver. Ray allegedly said to the driver, "She can't give you my right-of-way." He told us that now Big M (his wife) is going to have to buy him a truck.
I adore Uncle Ray. He was one of Richie's family members who welcomed me immediately. He is one of the funniest people I've ever met and has a rock-solid character, too. By which I mean, he'll tell you if he's going to lie to you. He'd give you anything he could if he thought you needed it. He adores his grandkids. Last time he came over, he was carrying an article in the paper that featured his grandson, Joseph. It turns out that Joseph's accomplishments are truly noteworthy by anyone's standards - he's an awesome football player and a top-notch student. He just got a huge football scholarship offer from Stanford. Ray's so proud he could pop. I get excited when I hear about Joseph because I know his success means a lot to so many people - especially Ray. I also know that, coming from this family, he has a lot more grit and is likely to take more risks than most people he'll meet at Stanford. He's going to have to try to explain Ray to people who are just not going to get it unless they come East to visit.
Georgia has culture. My husband was born and raised in the culture. I was a reluctant participant in Georgia culture when I lived there. I squelched my accent. I rolled my eyes. I hated country music. But I think I get it now that I'm less busy being cool and disaffected. At least I thoroughly respect that Uncle Ray can talk about a car wreck like he meant to do that. I think the state has made some rotten decisions about how much signage it allows on the highways, and I detest the proliferation of big-box, big-outlet, big boot, big, wide, and tall retail. I'm learning to appreciate old country music and its mountain music progenitors. I love a good consistent accent. And the azaleas - huge banks of them in different lipstick shades - are some of the prettiest things I've seen. Praise the growing season and curse the developers; Uncle Ray sounds the best doing either.
When Ray left Shirley and Russell's house that morning, we had gone outside to play. He stopped the car near where we were playing to collect hugs. He gave us $50 "ice cream money" for the girls and said, "I got that T.V. if y'all want it," with a twinkle in his eye. We've got about 10 ice cream trips coming up, financed by Ray Smallwood.
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