No Palace Like Home

Uncle Bubba is home. Big deal, right? Well, it is to him; he's been working in eastern Kentucky for 54 straight days. He's spent so much time there over the past two years that they've given him the honorary title of Brother Appalachian American, that's what hillbillies like to call themselves now. And why not, it has been well documented that these fine folks are very clannish and their isolated existence is tribal like. It's Bubbie's view that if the rest of the country had the strong sense of family and community that Appalachian Americans do, we'd be fighting together instead of against one another.

But I digress, back to Bubbie returning home. His bosses, and there are many of them, think that they own him. They have made it clear to him that he is a resource first and a person second. So they couldn't care less if Uncle Bubba or his co-workers get homesick and tired of living on the road. But in returning home there are so many things that most folks take for granted, yet make a house a home. Uncle Bubba shared a few things with me that often strikes him after a long stay away from home; like having a refrigerator, to walk over, open it up and peer inside. How wonderful to have choices of food to select from when one is in the mood. There is the choice of all of his clothes in his closet and dresser to wear as opposed to the few items in his suitcase. Oh! And some real coffee; not that muddy hotel sock water that seems to be at every hotel. He also has to take a few moments to relearn his TV remote and channel lineup, how to use the settings and buttons on the microwave, things like that. In Bubbie's view, and he knows it's cliche, but there really is no place like home.