It's a small world after all...

So, a relative of mine who reads and comments on this blog (hi, Auntie Barbie) told me that she likes hearing my take on things, but she was wondering how my husband, Ray, feels about all of this. So, since I'm not the selfish type (or at least, not very selfish), I asked him if he wanted to contribute and how he felt about life here in rural Georgia.

Ray gave me a funny look, and said "Well, it's pretty much just like my home town." And, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that one part of rural Georgia was just like another. And, thinking about it a bit more, I also realized that one rural area is pretty much just like any other as well, with maybe the exception of whatever the local cuisine is. I figured out that you can compare the area I live in, with just about anywhere else, and you'll find similarities.

"So what?" I hear you say. "People are people, there are bound to be similarities." Well, that's true, but I think I can prove to you that the people here are just like people I spent my summers with up in Penatanguishine, Ontario.

For example, people here like to sit out by the above ground pool, and drink beer, and shoot off fireworks, and set things on fire. By some strange coincidence, so do my family who live in rural Ontario. We went up there about a year ago, and both Ray and I were struck by how very much the same everyone was. My family (and I'm related by marriage to pretty much half of the township up there) were all sitting around the patio, sunburned, talking about hunting, how their gardens were doing, where they wanted to ride their ATVs and drinking Coors Light. Yes, they even drink the same beer. The biggest difference seemed to be in the accents, and also in the fact that they use snowmobiles to get around in the winter time.

On thinking about this a bit more, I got to thinking about other countries, too. I was watching Tony Bourdain's No Reservations on the Travel Channel the other night, and he was in Vietnam. He traveled to a rural area, and what was everyone doing? Sitting around on the floor, getting drunk off the local hooch, and talking about their gardens and hunting. Does everyone in every rural area do this? Do we do this in the city, too?

Yep, I think we do. I mean, I wasn't riding an ATV or talking about hunting when I lived in the city, but I was sitting at the local watering hole, talking sports, bitching about my life, and drinking a beer. So maybe it's not just a rural thing. Maybe it's just that as people, we all do some version of this ritual. I can almost imagine our ancestors, sitting around the fire at the mouth of their caves, drinking some sort of fermented mashed up yuck, talking about gathering roots, hunting, and who Og was screwing that week.

Maybe it's less about being rural, and more about being human. I'll see y'all around the bonfire, and save me a Coors Light.