Month: October 2024

Eclectic…Meat Day in Floyd, Va.

/ cigarman501 / 5 Comments

Eclectic: deriving ideas, style, or taste from a broad and diverse range of sources

My brother, son-in-law, and I made the trek to Floyd, Virginia for the seventh or eighth edition of my cousin’s annual “meat day.” The reason for the lack of clarity as to whether it was the seventh or eighth edition will become clearer later. I am clear about this; it was my first time.

Meat day has three simple rules: no women, no vegetables, and no chicken bones thrown into the yard. Other than that, it was an epicurean’s delight sans females. Food in the form of many different proteins, slowly cooked or smoked to perfection, and plenty of libations to wash it down with. I think the “plenty of libations” was why my cousin was a bit unclear as to whether it was the seventh or eighth episode. Did I mention my cousin is also the long-time mayor of Floyd?

Floyd is a small, sometimes sedate, sometimes bustling, sometimes crazy town some thirty miles past the equally small town of Hillsville off Interstate 77. Located near the Blue Ridge Parkway, there is a vibrant culture of music, arts, local foods and wines, and outdoor recreation. It is a key stop on The Crooked Road, Virginia’s heritage music trail and is known in some circles for the famous Friday Night Jamboree at the Floyd Country Store. Floyd is the home of the annual world music festival called FloydFest. If you like country, blue grass, or alternative music you should schedule a stop. Music lovers from forty-seven states enjoyed FloydFest’s five day event.

None of that really matters as far as our trek is concerned and the information was taken from the Floyd, Virginia Tourist Site. One bit of information that does matter is the statement from the same site, “Running on Floyd time. Floyd is as much a state of mind as it is a destination.”

It became apparent that meat day could have been just as easily named “meet day.” As I questioned my kin folk as we traveled the four hours to Floyd I asked, “How many people will be attending this…whatever it is?” Answers varied between twenty-five to fifty. They were off by about a hundred or more. The town of Floyd boast some four hundred and fifty inhabitants, and I venture to guess that most of the drinking age males came by at one time or another along with the fifty or so hardcore attendees there for the duration.

While I did pig out on barbecued ribs, pulled pork barbecue, smoked meatloaf, pig candy, and another half dozen proteins, (nothing was bad) I remained mostly sober despite the vast choices of distilled spirits and herbal remedies available. I’m glad I did because being a people watcher, I was able to enjoy the diverse folk who attended.

Diverse in race but more than that. Floyd was a destination for the counterculture in the 1960s and 1970s. It became apparent that the counterculture attitude was still in effect with the diversity of thought and actions of the men in attendance. I can only describe it as the most eclectic group of people I had been around since my engagement party, and that was way eclectic. Meat Day was eclectic on steroids.

An undercover cop joined former felons, along with legal and illegal pot growers and moonshiners. There was a PhD who worked for the government, motorcycle gang members, a major book publisher, all who joined the “salt of the earth” types wearing tie-dyed tee shirts under Oskos by Gosh overalls. The retired football coach of Floyd High School spent his entire forty-two-year career at that one school and enjoyed the day with us. Even my cousin’s political rival dropped by to enjoy the fun. Hardcore men who left but not before saying, “I’ll see you in church tomorrow.” There is a fine line between Saturday night and Sunday morning.

I tried to listen more than I talked. You learn better by listening. There was no talk of politics despite the many Trump and Harris signs I saw posted along main street. No disparaging the women who weren’t in attendance to defend themselves. Not one “pull my finger joke” but plenty of laughter, backslapping and hugs. There were stories from the past, good natured ribbing, and some “whatever happened to old so and so” questions.

They reminded me of the kids I loved to teach. Those that walked to their own drummer. The round pegs too many teachers attempted to fit into square holes. With today’s political climate, they made me hopeful.

Now that I’ve been I will go again but I will pace myself a little better. I figure it will take my system several days to recover from the protein blitz I subjected my body to. I also am attempting to produce descriptors to use other than eclectic. How ‘bout fun. A fun and educational evening in the eclectic small town of Floyd.

THINGS I LEARNED SITTING IN THE DARK

/ cigarman501 / 10 Comments

“Learn to light a candle in the darkest moments of someone’s life. Be the light that helps others see; it is what gives life its deepest significance.” ―  Roy T. Bennett, The Light in the Heart

My lights went out at 2:15 in the am Friday morning and didn’t come back on until Sunday at 4:15 in the pm. Did I mention there was another Sunday between that Friday and Sunday? And two football Saturdays? With the lights went my well water. Ten days without power and water. I learned a great deal sitting in the dark courtesy of Hurricane Helene. My puppies learned about cursing.

The first thing I learned was that no matter how much you prepare for a hurricane, you forget something. I checked off my list of toilet paper, water, ice, batteries, flashlights, lanterns, snack food, power bars and the like. What could I have forgotten? I should have done a couple of loads of washing, invested in some paper plates, and I should have cooked as much food as I could have from my freezers. Also, I should have considered water to flush with instead of relying on rainwater. I had plenty of rainwater but had to use a sieve to remove leaves and twigs.

I learned that when the lights go out at 2:15 in the am and the clouds are as thick as your brother’s head, it is not just dark, it takes dark to another level. I literally couldn’t see my hand in front of my face and now understood the saying, “as dark as the inside of a cow.” Matches…where did I put those matches? Shit! I left that off my list too.

I learned that all things don’t look better during the light of day, especially if the eye of the hurricane hits at dawn. “Was that the wicked witch on her bicycle?” Couldn’t have been. The rain was falling sideways, and she wasn’t melting.  How long before a tree comes down?

Later in the evening on the first Friday, as the clouds cleared, I ventured outside to view the damage, not too bad in the yard. A lot of debris, a door off a garage, three greenhouse covers damaged, and the limb that had taken the power stack off the side of my house. I wish I hadn’t ventured out of the yard. A goodly number of trees down. Plenty of firewood for several winters.

Long after the hurricane had left us, I had plenty of time for contemplation. The dark seemed to aid the process.

One of my most immediate thoughts was that my forefathers and mothers were made of much sterner stock than I was. Somehow, they survived with outdoor toilets, potbellied stoves, kerosene lamps, and cast-iron frying pans greased up with lard and bacon grease. I didn’t have any lard or bacon grease or a chicken to pluck and fry up.

My only contact with the outside world was a battery powered AM/FM radio that only picked up one station, B 93.7, a contemporary pop channel. As I feared, I am not very contemporary or pop and will invest in a better battery powered radio before the next natural disaster. I didn’t realize radio stations were so repetitive. I heard “A Bar Song” by Shaboozey so much I started to sing along…and it is still playing in a loop in my head.

One thing I didn’t learn. No matter how many times I walked down a hallway and flipped the light switch, the lights weren’t coming on. The first thing I did when the power came back? I flipped that switch just to make sure it worked.

Funny story, unless you were there. With the total darkness the animal life becomes emboldened. As the clock struck one am one night, Cora, my bratty little blue heeler, decided she needed to go out for a potty break and Quigley decided she needed an escort. Cora came back and Quigley decided he was going to stay out…and I let him, leaving the door cracked and the mosquito net in place.

Two hours later, I had fallen asleep and was rudely awakened when all hell broke loose. Seems a possum decided to check out the opened door and both Quigley and Cora decided the animal didn’t belong. Luckily, she made it to the pecan tree just outside. I found both puppies gazing heavenward. My flashlight lit up two beady little eyes staring back at me.

Two days after the lights came back on the little critter decided to try it again. Quigley is still outside barking at him/her.

I don’t want to make light of the situation. I learned how lucky I was compared to the people around me, especially those in Western North Carlina. I have been to many of these places. One of the last drives I took with my wife before she passed was through Chimney Rock. It is unfathomable that there is so much misery and destruction. Chimney Rock, along with many other places, was wiped out.

Mother Nature is a bitch, and I believe we humans are fueling her anger. We cut down her trees and put up paved parking lots and tall stacks belching smoke. With eight billion people, concrete has increased, replacing much of the green, and temperatures have soared with it. It couldn’t be climate change, could it? No, its just Revelations being played out and the end of times.

Much to my mental and emotional discomfort, I once again learned that no matter how devastating the situation, politics are always in play. I probably sat in the dark too long.

No, I definately sat in the dark too long.

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Don Miller’s latest offering is “Food for Thought.” Essays from the mind of The Mad Southerner.