Weight for Lamar

I’m so on this today!

A stout man by name of Lamar,
Had a difficult time with his car.
It’s mechanically sound,
But it sinks to the ground,
With his weight it just will not go far.

I didn’t even need an alarm. But did you notice that if you switch the letters of the name Lamar around you can spell alarm? I didn’t notice until after the limerick was already complete.

Whoa.

It’s a snow day here in Middle Tennessee. There isn’t any snow yet, but the schools here are not taking chances and we have closed down preemptively in order to avoid scenarios where children are stranded on roadways trying to get home. I have become used to the way of things here. I’ve stopped laughing at the fear, stopped ridiculing the caution and begun to settle into a comfort with the nonsense of it all. Yes, things were different, and still are, where I came from. Yes, this forecast would be met with little attention from the folks of Southern Michigan, but there is a drift between the understanding of these two areas that will probably never be shoveled through. And no matter how much of the same ideals, parallel practice or common interests they share, they are much more apt to enjoy talking about their differences.

I have become much more quiet there, it hasn’t always been that way, but I find myself much more pulled toward the parts of where I am that made me feel at home, the hunters and fishermen, the country roads and open fields, the guitars and mandolins and love of music, the congregations, families and hymns of faith. There is so much the same we just tend to recognize little of it at first. I suppose it is in adapting that I realize how little it takes to change and how insignificant those changes are.

I came prepared for the south. Some folks were willing to accept my northern accent simply because my middle name was usable. (No, I’m not kidding.) And when I explain that the whole of Michigan is a far cry from the image of Detroit, I am met with surprise and a new appreciation for the folks I introduce to them in my stories of home. People in Michigan drive trucks, because they are practical. They wave at people when they pass them on the road, they farm and garden and share produce with their friends. People in Michigan are available to their neighbors and shovel each other’s sidewalks, they love their families and are faithful to their promises. They give, even when they need and they act even when they’re tired. It’s not so different here.

As I finish these paragraphs I realize the snow has begun to fall, right on schedule I might add, and I’m so glad there’s no school. When you only get snow a few times a year…you learn to appreciate it a little more. Nah, snow days for flurries aren’t such a bad thing after all.

Tennessee: Y’all, we’re fixin’ to get some ice later on, so you might could think about stayin’ indoors.

Michigan: Oh my stars, I never seen so many people freaked out by some snow flakes.

It’s all good.