Today as I was walking to my car after class at OCC, I passed a silver PT Cruiser with all the windows open. As I strolled past, a kid popped up in the back seat looking sleepy and confused. He was tucked in the back seat with a pillow and blanket taking a snooze. He then started his car and drove approximately 10 parking spots to get some more privacy. Welcome to Olney.
People that live in cities think they see some pretty disturbing things. Gang violence, car crashes etc. To that I say, come to Olney and watch a bag lady in a motorized scooter chair scream at the CVS workers because she can't get her Oxycontin that she just picked up an hour earlier. Sure, these things are funny. But they are scary. I don't think I'll ever forget one day last spring that Lindsey and I were taking one of our drives to entertain ourselves, and escape to the sounds of KOL for a while. We had just had a massive rain, and as we drove main, we realized it was the biggest thing to happen in Olney since so and so murdered whoever over her baby daddy's brother's litter of pit bull puppies or whatever the hell it was. Kids were swimming in the super wash parking lot. I'm not shitting you. Actually swimming. With noodles and water toys. (water toys may or may not include bars of soap or shampoo) We thought that was pretty funny, until we headed home and came to the fourway in the bottoms by our road. (where silver keeps going around the dam and then down to a fourway) Lindsey pointed out to me that there were people gathered around a ditch with nets and fishing poles. Fishing. In. A. Ditch. Now I've seen it all.
You may think I'm shit talking Richland County, that's not at all what this is. I consider myself to have a sense of humor and appreciate these things probably more than actual town accomplishments. I delivered medicine for a pharmacy for a while. As you can imagine, most of these deliveries were not to sweet old women who couldn't get around well anymore (although there were some, and I love love love them). Most of my work was done in trailer parks. And I'm sure I wasn't the only one there delivering drugs at any one time. It was scary at first, but then I just found it hilarious. One of my regulars had no door on his home, beside the door hole was a message in crayon that read "knot hear" and "fuc of". It reminded me a bit of Winnie The Pooh's house with the backwards letters on the sign above his hole in a tree. Except Pooh had a door...
Back to my friend. He was never without a case of Jim Bean and was usually so tanked that he couldn't stand and had his girlfriend/sexslave/stepsister or what have you sign for his things. Did I mention she had two completely cataracted eyes? He was one of my favorites. Another one of my favorites was in a nearby neighborhood. Amongst the 400 cats, their next door neighbors had a mini horse. In the middle of town. In a pen that had a doorway into their house.
I fear that when I move away from here someday that I will forget these things and start to look down upon them. The truth is, we all come from this place, what makes us different is that we choose to grow from it, instead of swim in it...or fish. It is definitely some fertile soil to grow from, too. No one leaves Olney without some character or at least a sense of humor.
This will be the last summer in Olney before I go away to school. I plan on taking advantage of it by goin muddin', fishin', drinkin', riding on a big wheel bugee corded to the top of my car, jumping out of barn windows onto mattresses, whatever keeps us entertained.
Above is an image of me with my first beer. It's closed. Proud day, nonetheless.
Happy Turkey Hunting Season!
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