I went to Wal Mart this afternoon to buy something (a video game, if you must know - Grand Theft Auto 3. Yes, it's as shockingly violent and sexist as some people say. And it's a hoot to play, too. I suggest you give it a try, if you have the means.) and I was smacked in the nose with an almost overwhelming wave of nostalgia and homesickness.
Gosh, I thought, looking around at the mullets and work clothes of the middle class, I really miss my mom.
Not because my mom has a mullet or anything. She works at the Wal Mart in my home town, which is a pretty nice place in the spring. The town, not the Wal Mart. It's pretty much the same year 'round.
Speaking of the common man - have you ever watched King of the Hill? I can't say enough about what an accurate portrayal of southern working-class suburban life that show is. If you've seen it then you have seen My People.
My favorite character is Cotton Hill, Hank's irascible father. He has tiny little pin-hole eyes surrounded by a web of wrinkles and his shins were blown off in the South Pacific in World War II. He is the walking definition of the term mean old son of a bitch - and a pretty perfect example of that kind of grandpa.
Once he walked in on Hank's wife, Peggy, while she was crying.
"What's the matter, Hank's wife?" he asked, "got your monthlies?"
That's perfect. Just perfect.