Kentucky Ladies

Uncle Bubba has spent the the entire summer in eastern Kentucky working in the hills and hollers. Arriving in late Spring he has witnessed a turn of seasons and a turn of circumstances. It's late October and he is putting the wraps on another job well done. He has several more weeks before returning home to his Sweet Pea but now he sits in the breakfast area in the lobby of a fine Lexington hotel. Sitting alone he slurps a sip of his hot black coffee and attempts to keep his early morning mind clear for soon enough it will again be hard at work. Try as he might, he can't help but to overhear one of two women who were sitting close by. As his gaze falls upon them he notices that their mere appearances represent the two distinctive flavors of Kentucky women. The woman sitting at the left was angular with her tresses of charcoal gray hair coiffed in a late 1940s or '50s style, bowed up high and rolled back from her high cheekbones, straight slender nose and chiseled chin. She was natural and sweet and sat straight upright while casually nibbling at a muffin while her more pretentious friend on the right sat expounding about the images appearing on her iPad. Her chatty friend was a petite older woman with short blonde, very blonde hair. She had dabbed on a little makeup and, though casual, donned designer clothes. She chatted incessantly about Facebook, Glen Beck, that O'Reilley fella, and Nancy Pelosi. Her rapid fire repartee triggered a thought in Bubbie's sleepy mind. In the past few years he has spent a fair amount of time in hotel lobbies, diners, restaurants, and bars and has noticed a split in the topics of talk depending on similar characteristics.

There are a lot of folks in this still great country that live in much the same way as our rugged ancestors. They work hard everyday and come home to care for their family and home. They survive, doing what they must do and in doing so they try to find some modicum of joy. If you strike up a conversation they speak of the weather, not just in passing but because they have to deal with it; it effects their work, their crops, their weekend plans, or how much money they'll spend fighting it. They share stories of their families and kids. They'll tell you about their day or how great a man their granddaddy was; they may even interject comments about the Lord. They almost never talk about Facebook, Beck, O'Reilly, or Pelosi; that seems to be the loquacious mantra of the upper middle class. But then again one would have to have something to lose to vehemently worry. For as much as technology and TV are useful tools, they are also used even more by the average American as entertainment. Oddly, we've forgotten that. We've stopped thinking for ourselves and swallow everything hook line and sinker. In Bubbie's view, the good old USA was stronger when folks were natural, polite, used common sense and thought for themselves.