My life has gotten smaller over the years.
I grew up in Atlanta, which was a big city even in those days; moved to Birmingham, which was not as big as Atlanta but still pretty good size; then lived along the Gulf Coast in a series of places, and now find myself in a small town in Mississippi (population around 12,000).
People often ask me about the difference between living in a big city and a small town, and I used to tell them that it's not as big of a difference as they'd think. When you live in a big city, even though you are in a metropolis of millions of people with all the supporting businesses and entertainment that goes with it, you tend to spend most of your life in a relatively small part. You go to the local stores, eat at favorite restuarants, shop at familiar stores. In many ways, we tend to turn big cities into small towns by reducing the area to our small corner of the big town.
I used to say that, and I believed it.
I was wrong.
It's not that small towns are not without amenities. There is usually a Wal-Mart. And of course a big-box hardware/building supply store like Home Depot. There is one movie theatre (with four screens). There are a couple of cell phone stores, and a car rental place. When it comes to eating out, there is a Cracker Barrell and the usual assortment of fast food (McDonald's, Krystal, KFC, Burger King) near the on/off ramps to the interstate. There is also one Mexican restuarant, a couple of barbecue places, and a few Chinese places.
This little town also has a Piggly Wiggly, the only grocery store I've found other than the Wal-mart, and a library that is part of a three-county consortium which includes a nearby community college library that I can borrow from.
There are some things that strike me as unusual. If I walk around the block where I live (in a "downtown loft" across from the old railroad depot), I pass no fewer than five hair salons; at least five women's clothing stores; two jewelry shops; one women's shoe store. No wonder the state of Mississippi once boasted the most "Miss America" winners.
There are also three bakeries and a dry cleaner, and one block over there is an auto parts place and a pawn shop.
And of course there is a Dollar General, a company whose footprint rivals that of Wal-Mart.
It sounds great, and it is, until ...
There was the day when the Trophy Wife needed an accessory for her cell phone. No problem, I said, we'll run to Best Buy ... except there isn't a Best Buy.
One Saturday I woke up thinking it was time to get a new pair of tennis shoes, so I'd run over to Academy ... except there isn't one.
A Barnes and Noble or Books-A-Million? Forget it
There are exactly two men's clothing stores (not counting Wal-Mart).
There is no steak restuarant, but there is a good, locally owned and family operated pasta place.
So what do you do when you want to go shopping, or eat at a really good restuarant, or maybe have a choice of movies? To quote Johnny Cash and June Carter, you go to Jackson.
Like the "olden days,'' you plan a day trip to Jackson to do your shopping in the "big city."
Here's the thing, though: I like Mississippi. I'm not sure what it is, but I like the people. It's one of those places that if you're out for a walk and get tired, you can call the police and they'll come pick you up and give you a ride home and think nothing of it. Every shop is locally owned, and chances are if you're in there, you're going to run into the owner, or a relative of the owner.
And people take the time to talk. They may wear you out with talking, telling you about their families, their neighbors, the local gossip; but that's entertainment. That slower pace of life you always hear about in small towns? It's real. People seem naturally patient, as if they know it's hard enough to fill their days so why fret about wasting time?
And people know each other. Heck, most of them are related, even if only distantly. I met a mechanic with a last name I recognized, and asked him if he was related to this other family of the same last name. "Oh, I know them,'' he replied. "But they're the 'top of the hill.' My family came from out in the country. If we are related, they'd never admit it."
I don't know if "top of the hill" was just a phrase meaning 'better off' or he meant it literally. I'm guessing the former, because this is a relatively flat area, geographically. But I understood what he meant.
Do I miss a larger city? You better believe it. Not every day, of course. But there are times that I miss having choices.
On the other hand, the folks around here work hard at having fun. They don't have as many options as you find in a large city, so when they get together, they try to make it count.
I am part of a every-other-week lunch group, and we always have fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, sweet tea, and cake. And every other week, I get an excited email or call from the same guy who says, "Razor" - he calls me Razor, which I guess is my Mississippi nickname - he says, "Razor! Chicken on the bone! Yessir, nothing better than chicken on the bone!" You'd think he absolutely lived for "chicken on the bone."
Like I said, you work hard to have things to look forward to.
I have discovered that a small town is like living in a large family. Sometimes it is fun, sometimes it's awful; sometimes everyone gets along, sometimes they divide into cliques. They'll apologize profusely for things that can't possibly be their fault (like the time I nicked the bumper of the car of the older lady who owns the shoe store below me; she apologized to me , as if parking her car between the white lines of the legal parking place in front of her store caused my carelessness!), or they may blame someone else for something that is clearly their responsibility.
But in the end, like a large family, they stick together. Even if they don't want to admit it, even if they say they can't wait to get away, they know that deep down, they have a bond, and they stick together because they know they'll be seeing each other every week for the next fifty or sixty years.
And I have found they approach newcomers with a sense of hope, as if they can't believe someone new has chosen to join them while at the same time feeling a sense of pride that their little plot of land has attracted someone new. There is an anticipation of what that new person brings: energy, ideas, perspective that they hope, of course, will improve the overall 'family' - but with as little uncomfortableness as possible.
It's complicated in the way that all large families are complicated. And maybe, in the end, that's the difference between the large city and the small town:
In the large city, it's so easy to be an only-child.
In the small town, you have to work to be left alone.
