Where we come from...
 

Or rather, where Jess is from… funerals are the social event lil ole ladies have been preparing for since birth. Based on my limited experience with funerals in this area of the world, I have decided that its like a pageant and a point system is involved.

Last fall, when Jess’s stepdad died, we were here. At 2:30 AM, the director of the local funeral home is standing in the den and for some reason, singles me out. Here I am, in my jimmies, trying to fade into the background as all Howard’s siblings are coming in droves. The nice fella in a suit (who the hell wears a suit at 2 in the morning), says to me, “So we have some folding chairs and a coffee urn we can bring by and I need to know what time we can come with the wreath and the signs.” In my head, I am thinking, “Signs?!?!? What is he talking about?” Not wanting to appear stupid, my reply was something about we would figure that out and let him know when we came by the funeral home later.”

He was no sooner out the door than I had Jess cornered asking about the signs. I thought it rather soon for an estate sale. LOL Jess had no more a clue than I did.

I called my mother – she is from a small town. She said, “Signs?!?!? Are they having a yard sale?” LOL

I called my office and took a poll. Not one person had a clue about the signs.

Turns out that lil sammich board signs with the words, “Slow. Funeral in progress” are placed in front of your house, about 100 ft before and after, as well as a white ribboned wreath is placed on the house so as to notify all the locals that the point system has begun.

Not one moment past 5:30 am and the lil ole bluehairs are lined up outside the front door, cream of somethin’ casseroles in hand, plowing one another down in the race to get to the kitchen first to sign the register and lament about the character of Jess’s stepdad. Anyone who knows me knows that I am not human until after a pot of coffee has been consumed and its at least 10am. My neck is hurting from all the nodding and my face feels numb from all the smiling.

As the parade of lil ole ladies and their casseroles appear, the rivers of coffee flow as my mother in law, who has spent the last month caring for my fatherinlaw 24 hours a day and looks like she is next in line for funeral services, sat in a chair and was doted over, her care and commitment to her husband is validated and the whole scene is very reminiscent to a queen sitting on her throne, receiving adoration from the minions.

Thank god Momma was planted in the chair because I am not sure she could have even stood up – and the ironic part to me is that the procession, in all of their goodness and efforts, just didn’t take the hint that she needed to rest… she didn’t need another piece of cake, another cup of coffee.

Everyone tells us just what a saint Momma is and just how very tired she looks. I bite my lips nearly off in the attempts to not ask them why the fuck they don’t go home so she can just rest.

For three days, the pageant continued, the droves of people far and wide ensuring that their names have been recorded as well as their food contributions so that the correct number of points are allocated. Momma continued to reign, refusing to sleep, reveling in the attention and validation that her sacrifices have surely assured her a place in martyrdom.

When the signs and wreath are taken down, and the people stop the procession, its rather anticlimactic and she seemed a little let down. I kept waiting and waiting for an announcement in the local paper as to the rankings of the locals and the points to date.

I still wonder where the points are recorded.

While I do make a joke out of the entire event, I was rather impressed and humbled with the whole affair – that when we leave this world, our existence will be celebrated, our efforts acknowledged and that its not all been for naught – at least where we come from.

All you had to say was "jughandle" and "down the shore" I knew you were from Jersey. Takes one to know one.

On one hand, I often want to forget where I am from - but at the same time, I consider myself blessed.

My parents came here from WWII Germany to Jersey City, NJ at a time where it progressively became one of the worse areas to live. I grew up in an area that was constantly under the sounds of police sirens, gang wars and excessive homelessness. Growing up there was an eye opening experience to the good, the bad and the indifferent. It was also an area rich in ethnicity - from foods, culture, and ways of living. Almost any type of ethnic food can be found within a two-mile radius. I am blessed because it opened my mind and gave me a sense of understanding that can reach many different levels. That which doesn't kill you, truly does make you stronger, lol. I regret none of it, but at the same time, you won't catch me back in Jersey City voluntarily either. I've spent enough of my years there.

Where I live now is peaceful and serene in comparison. No matter which direction you drive, you will eventually stumble upon farmland and skies that are not obstructed by tall buildings. There are cows and horses just about everywhere. (I realized recently that I haven't seen a pigeon in over three years, lol.) It did take me some time to get used to jughandles and I still find it hard to wrap the concept of the shore being north of here, so I still say "down the shore" every now and then. I still carry the Jersey City mentality, but it has come in useful on many occasions. I say cawfee with great pride.

Our tomatoes ROCK.

(f)

St. Augustine, FL.
 

Where I'm from......

:) You can buy your flip flops at your local gas station
:) Nobody's in a hurry to get anywhere.
:) Wearing your swimsuit under your work clothes is a must for the after work dip in the ocean.
:) The Historical Society rules the town.
:) Many of the residents save money by living in houseboats.


Duchess

Ha!!! I love it when people visit from other states, and totally don't get how to make a left hand turn across a highway, because there's "no left turn" signs everywhere... And it's even better when they eventually admit that jughandles make sense!!!

*waves at the other Jersey girl!*

Where I am from
 

things are ofte not the norm...

It's 80 degrees on Thanksgiving...

Waldo from Family Matters hangs out at the local Trader Joes...

If you go to Denny's on Saturday morning the gays out number the straights...

The freeways are more congested during a holiday week than normal...

I used to find them annoying, but they do make sense. And everyone is not all over the place trying to cut across highways.

I have to admit, there is less chaotic traffic down here.

*waving back*

Cuz that's how we roll .....

*waves back*

*waves back atcha!*

My oldest daughter (nearly 20) has a tee shirt that says "Jersey girls don't pump gas." Cracks me up!

the best BBQ is sold out of an old gas station that was converted into a restaurant

Where I'm from....
 

~Shrimp boats are almost as common as cars
~The Fountain of Youth, Ripley's Museum and the Castillo de San Marcos are popular attractions.
~The drive thru bar where I purchased my first cocktail is still open. You literally can drive thru, order a cocktail, then drive across the street to the beach.
~Seeing a gator cross the street is no big deal

Duchess

Braums Ice Cream reigns supreme

Ugh I need to visit home soon, I miss Braums and I need to do a graveside talk with my grandparents.

Where I'm from...
 

HA! This sounds like our lil spot in the road all the time!

If not for a trip to Nashville this weekend, I would likely be starting a denim quilt that has been on the to-do list for quite some time.

I used to love ole timey days! Sounds like you will have fun.

Next weekend is our county fair.They have renamed it the county "cultural" fair. This area is deeply ( DEEPLY) rooted in self sufficiency and many of the cultural history aspects are definitely centered around things that involved homemaking and preserving.
This area is also very rich in its history of music making. We are on the Crooked Road, and chock full of bluegrass musicians and "old timey gospel".

We're actually looking forward to going and meeting some of our older community because they are a dying breed. With all of the good and bad aspects of previous generations, we are losing them.