Growing up in a small town where the majority of people are farmers and kids follow in the family footsteps, I knew I would not want to stick around. Now, I am out in the “wild” living in the city and have traveled the world with the Marine Corps.
I go back to what I call home but only out of necessity. I realize as I drive through the towns that made up the school district a lot has changed. However, it seems as though everything has stayed completely the same.
I drive past the old gas station and the name on the sign has changed, but when I go inside the same owner is there. He told me it was simply time for a change.
According to Shawn Hubler in his essay “Will the Last Gay Bar in Laguna Beach Please Turn Out the Lights?”, “The scene, like the town’s art galleries and surf shops, was part of the area’s character and history.”
This is how the small grocery stores, long since run out of business by a neighboring city’s Cub Foods or Rainbow grocery store, made the town what it was. The townspeople did not mind the groceries were a little higher priced. They enjoyed the convenience of driving down Main Street for that gallon of milk, instead of driving 20 minutes.
Now what is left of the town’s stores? The American Legion, the local bar, a chiropractor, newspaper and the bank are what comprise the town’s businesses.
Of course the gas stations stick around, but their name changes as frequently as the owner of the newspaper in town.
Some of this could be explained by the economy, but of course other things have to change as well.
Hubler cites other reasons for change in Laguna Beach in his essay. “On the other hand, much of the change is being driven by the inexorable forces.”
As far as the people go, they are still the same. The same teachers, same coaches and the same drama that comes with family names is still an everyday part of life.
I get to keep up on the gossip from one person I still talk to, and she has been my best friend since fifth grade. We even had an apartment together.
She informs me of the marriages and who’s cheating whom, the most important of things.
What she is especially fond of is how families are combining, almost incestuously, to form a better “name for them.”
The star running back I graduated from high school with took over the family farm implement shop and married the star basketball player. Now their family is nearly unstoppable when it comes to sports in that town. The only thing left for them to do is make sure the coaches are part of their circle of friends.
I have to say, I am glad I was able to get out while I could. I could not imagine what life would be like if I had stayed in that town. Since I was not the star player in any sport I would have had to marry a mediocre female athlete and hope our children had a chance of being on the team. Not to mention, since I was an outsider who moved in at 5th grade, could you imagine what life would have been like for a Yard child? I shudder at the thought.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
My Big Nose; All the Better to Smell With
I have been asked if I am a Jew countless times, by some people I have just met and by those who have known me for years. And it never surprises me when they ask because of my big nose.
My nose has been what I feel is the dominant feature of my face since the age of eleven. Classmates and friends have always teased me for the size of my nose. It seems like everybody noticed my nose, which as an adolescent, was nearly as big as the noses found on Mount Rushmore.
I can remember riding a bus in Atlanta when a friend accused me of having my hand on my face in an attempt to hide it. I could never hide this three-story apartment building on my face. My hands are big, but not that big.
Going through junior high and senior high school was some of the toughest times. Nobody is nice in high school. But I figured out if I made fun of myself first that I could stop the barrage of insults before they started.
A classmate would start to say something along the lines of, “Your nose…” and I would immediately quip, “Is probably the biggest you’ve ever seen. And just think, the nose and ears continue to grow until you die. How big do you think it will be when I’m fifty?”
Or, I would hit them with the classic line, “All the better to smell with,” as heard in the story of Little Red Riding Hood. So my nose became the butt of jokes for me, too.
“My old nose was my shtick, a song and dance I did for years. I wanted to drop it all and lead, for once. I wanted to be so out in front of things that I became invisible,” said Dan Barden in his essay, My New Nose.
Just as Barden’s nose was his shtick, I used it the same way. I had a friend from the Marine Corps ask me if I was Jewish. I blasted him with the lines, “Why? Because of this big shylock nose? Because I’m tight with my money? My dad owns a bank? Why would I have to be Jewish?” I played these stereotypes against him and he got scared as though he offended me. When I finally laughed he let out a sigh of breath he must have been holding for nearly a minute.
I like to keep people of balance when they attack what I find to be my most distracting feature. I know it is big – thanks for the reminder.
However, I have never thought of “fixing” it. It has been broken plenty of times from sparring with other Marines, or the occasional boxing match in the living room with friends. Barden had his nose fixed and it opened new doors for him.
“Psychologically, my nose had become the emblem for all that held me back, and I had had to deal with it. Some people will tell you that’s an inside job…But I believe rhinoplasty can also be a kind of spiritual growth.”
For me, I have learned to deal with it. I wear glasses when possible, but I have not decided if that attracts or detracts attention from the mountain of flesh on my face. To have rhinoplasty done would be like picking a tattoo from flash art in the shop. “Hmm, I like that one, but could you slim it up in the bridge?”
Nope, I have no idea how I would like my nose to be shaped, except exactly the way it is. So, when friends start picking on my nose, I let them. I know they are all green with envy because this olfactory sensory system is huge. I can smell who’s grilling in the neighborhood and what kind of barbecue sauce they have on their pork chops. Oh, and by the way, I was raised Missouri Synod Lutheran.
My nose has been what I feel is the dominant feature of my face since the age of eleven. Classmates and friends have always teased me for the size of my nose. It seems like everybody noticed my nose, which as an adolescent, was nearly as big as the noses found on Mount Rushmore.
I can remember riding a bus in Atlanta when a friend accused me of having my hand on my face in an attempt to hide it. I could never hide this three-story apartment building on my face. My hands are big, but not that big.
Going through junior high and senior high school was some of the toughest times. Nobody is nice in high school. But I figured out if I made fun of myself first that I could stop the barrage of insults before they started.
A classmate would start to say something along the lines of, “Your nose…” and I would immediately quip, “Is probably the biggest you’ve ever seen. And just think, the nose and ears continue to grow until you die. How big do you think it will be when I’m fifty?”
Or, I would hit them with the classic line, “All the better to smell with,” as heard in the story of Little Red Riding Hood. So my nose became the butt of jokes for me, too.
“My old nose was my shtick, a song and dance I did for years. I wanted to drop it all and lead, for once. I wanted to be so out in front of things that I became invisible,” said Dan Barden in his essay, My New Nose.
Just as Barden’s nose was his shtick, I used it the same way. I had a friend from the Marine Corps ask me if I was Jewish. I blasted him with the lines, “Why? Because of this big shylock nose? Because I’m tight with my money? My dad owns a bank? Why would I have to be Jewish?” I played these stereotypes against him and he got scared as though he offended me. When I finally laughed he let out a sigh of breath he must have been holding for nearly a minute.
I like to keep people of balance when they attack what I find to be my most distracting feature. I know it is big – thanks for the reminder.
However, I have never thought of “fixing” it. It has been broken plenty of times from sparring with other Marines, or the occasional boxing match in the living room with friends. Barden had his nose fixed and it opened new doors for him.
“Psychologically, my nose had become the emblem for all that held me back, and I had had to deal with it. Some people will tell you that’s an inside job…But I believe rhinoplasty can also be a kind of spiritual growth.”
For me, I have learned to deal with it. I wear glasses when possible, but I have not decided if that attracts or detracts attention from the mountain of flesh on my face. To have rhinoplasty done would be like picking a tattoo from flash art in the shop. “Hmm, I like that one, but could you slim it up in the bridge?”
Nope, I have no idea how I would like my nose to be shaped, except exactly the way it is. So, when friends start picking on my nose, I let them. I know they are all green with envy because this olfactory sensory system is huge. I can smell who’s grilling in the neighborhood and what kind of barbecue sauce they have on their pork chops. Oh, and by the way, I was raised Missouri Synod Lutheran.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)