How about this one?

So, I've written two additonal posts since the Jan 28th one - it's just that you can't see them. Because, they got messed up! The first one kept transliterating everyting into Hindi for some reason and I couldn't understand what I'd written when I went back to re-read before posting. Thank goddess I did. The second one didn't save at all. It is challenging to get over feeling like I need to try to recreate them.

Well, of all the things I wrote about, what sticks in my mind as worth mentioning again has to do with the poverty and/or substandard living and or perceived genetic anomalies, all of which may or may not be related. In my graduate training as a social worker, it was drummed into us to question stereotypes and to avoid willfully or inadvertently propogating those. Well, that does present a problem for me with what I'm about to write. You see, I've been observing hillbilly-dom vs. Appalachia in Asheville vs. that horrible description of Caucasians, specifically "white t _ _ _ _ _." I can't even write it, I feel so ashamed. It goes against everything I believe about not judging people, accepting folks within the social context of their lives (not mine), not putting my own values onto other people, etc. etc. But, I can't deny what I've seen.

Yesterday was like touring a bizarre sort of people museum. To begin with, I went out jogging in the morning. I had my cute running outfit on, complete with white & blue piping stripes and matching running shoes. I'm barely up to a three mile slog (slow jog) up and down the hills in this West Asheville neighborhood. Well, just as I'm cresting one of the hills, I see a couple in the distance. With each foot fall of mine and theirs, we get a little closer to each other. That's when I notice that despite the 24 degree weather, he is wearing a short sleeved t-shirt and jeans with a pair of tennis shoes. She, on the other hand, s wearing some type of flannel pajamas covered with a ratty, dirty light blue terry cloth robe with the collar pulled up around her neck. She is barefoot and staring at the ground, not looking up for a second. I say somewhat lamely when we are in speaking range, "Are you guys ok?" Of course, the guys says, "we're fine." Like what would you expect him to say...."We're really fucked right now and could use some help from a perfect stanger"?? What was their story? Was she a victim of domestic violence, barely escaping with her life and he the male "friend" who is secretly in love with her and keeps trying to tell her that she deserves better? I guess we'll never know.

Then, I went to Goodwill. Not just ANY Goodwill but the new, grandly re-opened Goodwill. There I saw the most number of people in one place who looked like they had fetal alcohol syndrome. It was really sad to see, the high foreheads, lowered ears and eyes which appeared to focus in two completely different directions. I know it's wrong but what's running through my mind right now is "Dueling Banjos" from the film, Deliverance.....