Her house has long since been demolished, though a few of the enormous pecan trees are still positioned in what was once her front yard. These trees shaded the porch perfectly, allowing her to swing there most afternoons protected from the heat of the harsh afternoon sun.
Grandma Ray always wore her gray hair short. Her figure was quite petite, perfectly suited really to her simple knee-length dresses. And this made her appear much younger than she really was.
Upon arriving at my grandparents' abode (within 15 minutes of our arrival), she'd sit adjacent to the door, never saying a word to anyone. And this wasn't out of disrespect. It's just how she operated. Grandma Ray was an observer, choosing to live her life in that regard.
--------------------------
As a boy (pre-teen), I was the motor mouth. Talks Too Much In Class was consistent criticism of my elementary school teachers on each and every report card. I did this because I loved the attention. Plus, I was articulate. Therefore, you put 2 + 2 together...
But once I reached middle school (or junior high, as it was called in my day), I quickly shifted my approach to life. For it was at this point that I soon realized that observing those around me was a much smarter (& safer) means of operating.
-------------------------
My best friend in high school's 'rents purchased him a new obsidian black Dodge Daytona. If I remember correctly, it was an '89 model, and frankly, I liked the car because it seemed to meld with Greg's persona. Greg would regularly take us to Sonic in Ridgeland for fried cheese sticks and cherry limeades in this car with me riding shotgun and our mutual friend, Todd, riding in the very cramped backseat.
One night in particular stands out to me as we were returning home from our favorite fast food drive-in. Whilst turning from County Line Road to Old Canton Road, an adjacent car full of teenagers cut forward into our lane. Had Greg not applied the brakes, we'd have easily plowed into the rear end of their car. It was an obviously sloppy error on the part of the driver that could have resulted in a significant fender-bender.
Stupidly, in response, I reached over and honked the horn of the Daytona by pressing the far right horn button on the car's steering wheel. This obviously alarmed my two friends, and in response, I immediately regretted my knee jerk reaction.
And that's when the car in front of us stopped right there in the middle of the road, and my heart sank. In response, Greg stopped too. The distance between us and car ahead was probably 75 feet.
Many awkward seconds went past. What were we to do?, I thought to myself.
Greg expertly observed their next move as if he'd walked this road before. Eventually, they sped away into the night, and we slowly made our way home relieved.
-------------------------
One of the most curious present day developments relative to our individual social standing as a people is the ubiquity and therefore dominant forcefulness of social media.
And this is especially curious to me within circumstances that demand / require "regularly scheduled" face to face social interaction. Take, for instance, church. This place you become a member of and revisit week after week, rearing your family there among-st the "body of Christ".
Social media is built upon the premise of living loudly by digitally communicating constantly. This is lauded as a necessity to staying socially relevant whilst influencing, influencing, influencing.
Therefore, your social media identity is established well in advance of ever stepping foot into the church house (or place of employment, holiday gathering, etc.). Hence, there's a Facebook or Instagram version of everyone that's positioned to worship, work, holiday amongst all the other Facebook or Instagram versions who've similarly positioned their own selves. It's essentially digital posturing that reinvents itself day after day after day.
Even our pastor nowadays provides commentary about what's he's read on social media about his parishioners, sometimes scolding the masses even, regarding the identity they're consistently working to construct. It is the weirdest and most bizarre, technologically-fueled masquerade ever, and in so many respects, it's no different than what I experienced in junior high.
Therefore, social media just like junior high thrives on the craving we have here in the West to be popular among-st our peers. Popularity that hopefully will serve to draw like-minded people to us in order for them to confirm our worth / value technologically and otherwise.
-------------------------
Rob became an observer as a teenager because I was a loser by definition. Neither handsome nor masculine, not an athlete nor a Mississippi outdoorsman, I was therefore defined as none other than a L-O-S-E-R.
There were only +/-45 of us in my private academy class, most of which I'd grown up with since kindergarten, and man, I fit in there as a middle / high school student like RuPaul would as a freshman at Brigham Young University.
And as I alluded to earlier, through all of this, what I learned most importantly to do in order to compensate for this ungainly situation was to keep my mouth shut and observe. Not only to protect myself, but to try and make sense of / come to grips with what I'd found myself having to deal with day after day after day.
-------------------------
Today, I continue forward within this same modus operandi, and it works for me. If you're ever in a Samson Society meeting with Rob, you'll see quite the vocal version of me, but otherwise within "regularly scheduled social programming", I tend to live in the margins. And I like that approach. It harkens back to my great grandmother and my high school best friend. Two people I respected dearly. Plus, it's the only means I've found to understand / make sense of people - at least from my own personal point of view.
There are many reasons I eschew social media, but primarily it's due to what I've described here. Middle school represented the worst years of my life. Therefore, why embrace / waste time on something that rings true with all that ridiculousness?
Christians are called to live "quiet lives". I'm in sync - wholeheartedly - with that approach, but keep in mind that there are venues where men are expected to be as direct and in your face as they feel lead to be. And, of course, you know of one option to you here in the Jackson Metro.
Won't you join us?
No comments:
Post a Comment