The Rural Fast Lane: Take 2
When “Life in the Rural Fast Lane” was originally posted at “Loose Leaf” on April 5, a reader humorously asked where the accompanying photo was (in reference to the line where I say that because I have no visible neighbors, I can garden topless if I want to). More recently, the essay appeared in the program for the Floyd World Music Festival, commonly known as Floyd Fest. The graphic artist’s rendering that went with the piece also zeroed in on that line, causing me to be affectionately nicknamed “the naked gardening lady” by some at the festival. I also got a “thanks for the plug” thumbs-up comment from my egg man, Ed Gralla.
Life in the Rural Fast Lane
I live in a one stoplight town. I get my honey from the woman who works the front desk at the Community Action Center and my farm fresh eggs from the Gralla-Shwartz family. Some of the egg shells are actually light green and the cartons have feathers and pieces of hay in them. I also grow a lot of my own food and my husband stocks the freezer with wild venison. Last year my potato crop was so prolific that I was still eating them in May. All the stores here take my checks without asking for identification and some will cash personal checks made out to me. It cost $5 to fix a flat tire (up from $3 just a few years back) and a haircut at the local barbershop is $7. Because I have no visible neighbors, I can weed my garden topless or sunbathe naked on a lounge chair – one of my top criteria for Paradise. My water is from a well. It’s pure and tastes good. I can’t hear any traffic.
If you’re thinking I’m out in the sticks, here’s the flip side of that:
I’m 6 miles from downtown, but because there’s no traffic or speed limits on back roads, it only takes me 8 minutes to get there. I can sometimes ride to town without seeing another car, but if I do see one, it’s customary to wave even if you don’t know who it is. Once I’m in town, my anonymity is over. Everyone says hello or stops to talk. After a few hugs and conversations, I can get a meal with capers in it, or start a pick-up game of scrabble at the local café. I can visit any number of art studios, shop for clothes that I actually like, buy organic produce, or antiques. I love to dance so I’m thrilled that we have a monthly Contra Dance, an active Dance Free, and of course there’s always Friday night flat footing at the Country Store Jamboree, competing with Irish night at the local Cantina. I attend a weekly meditation satsang and a bi-monthly writers’ workshop. My husband goes to yoga and martial arts classes. This summer will mark the 4th anniversary the World Music Festival (Floyd Fest), held just a few miles up the road from my house. A few months ago the Leon Russell Band played here. Before that it was Maria Muldaur.
When I first moved to Floyd in 1985, friends and family worried that I might be isolated in the country. My answer to them is where the term “life in the rural fast lane” first came from. In truth, sometimes Floyd living is so overwhelming that I stay home for days on end, schlepping around in my sweatpants, not wearing shoes or brushing my hair, talking to the dog on the walk to the mailbox. More criteria for Paradise, as far as I’m concerned.
August 2nd, 2005 11:50 am
Colleen and Joe’s spot on top of the world IS to die for!!! And by the way…I died when you told about us waiting in the elevator. Thanks for the laugh. I have a funny one (I should go back and enter it under yesterdays, “The Stupidest Thing” but I am here). My stupidest thing happened at a summer restaurant in Hull where I worked for 7 years; Jakes. Employees weren’t allowed to park in the restaurant parking lot because space was limited and the owner wanted to free up parking spaces for his customers. Well…one day I had a rent-a-car while my own was being fixed. I figured I could get away with parking in the parking lot on this HOT day and save myself the 4 bucks it cost to park at the town pier where we were *supposed to* park. Who would know the rent-a-car was mine? That night, by chance, I was the last waitress on duty. I rushed through my cleaning so as to get out before the owner locked up. I finished in the-nick-of-time but as it turned out, it was not soon enough, “Kathy wait, I’ll drive you to the pier,” the owner said. No matter what I replied, I couldn’t convince him that I didn’t need a lift to my car so we walked out together and got in his car (he parked in the parking lot) where only 10 feet from his, was my rent-a-car. We drove to the empty pier. He looked puzzled and asked, “where’s your car?” Not knowing how to get out of it, I answered, “back in the parking lot.” The stupid part was not owning up to it from the beginning. Oops…I got off topic…mine is an example of paradise NOT.
August 2nd, 2005 7:05 pm
It does sound like paradise! I’m so happy you love living there. I am sure Floyd is glad to have you too:-)
BTW- I’m over from Michele’s today
August 2nd, 2005 9:34 pm
It’s interesting to contrast the Floyd I live in today with the one I left 40 years ago. When I packed everything I owned into a 1957 Ford and left the county in search of a journalistic career in 1965, I left behind a rural county with few of the things Colleen describes — no Jamboree, no FloydFest, no Community Action Center. My grandmother worked in the Shirt Factory where the monthly Contra Dance is held.
More than a few changes for Floyd in the last four decades — some good, some bad. What I still haven’t answered is a basic question: Did I come home to rediscover the Floyd that I left 40 years ago or the one that exists now? When I find the answer I’ll have to write about it.
Doug
August 2nd, 2005 10:04 pm
Hi Doug,
And while you’re working on that, I’ll be working on how I am torn (or blessed) between two places: where I come from (Massachusetts and the ocean) and where I live (the mountains here in Floyd). I have a feeling I’ll be writing about that for a long time.
August 2nd, 2005 11:08 pm
Wow. I think I said before that I am jealous of your cabin. It sounds like such a wonderful place to live. You inspire me to work harder to get to a place like that someday.
August 2nd, 2005 11:29 pm
Was grinning at the mention of Dance Free, since I loved going to Dance Freedom in Cambridge. (If I had to pick one thing I left behind that I truly miss, that’s it. I’m tempted to start one once (if?) my full plate of activities empties a bit.)
When we first came here one of my cousins asked, “Why in the world are you moving to Florida?” We’ve got a rural fast lane down here, too, though the county is developing fast (with its accompanying pros and cons). Except for travel to a poetry conference across the state we haven’t visited any of the larger cities. Haven’t felt the need.
August 3rd, 2005 12:47 am
colleen…i have decided that you and i need to switch lives for a while…whaddya think? 😉
August 3rd, 2005 3:59 pm
Did you neglect to mention that the walking paths and driveway are paved with gold. It sure sounds like Heaven to me.
August 3rd, 2005 5:52 pm
1. I am packing and will be there this week.
2. Hope I can sell the retirement house I am building in time.
3. Yes, you can come to dinner with Erma, Bill, Mahatma, Leo, and my grandma–bring dessert.
August 4th, 2005 12:35 pm
God, that sounds so good. Both the fest and Floyd. I want to be there. Now. Or atleast soon.
May 4th, 2010 12:18 am
[…] in the Rural Fast Lane is an essay I wrote and read on WVTF radio a few years ago, which can be read HERE. To read a Flourishing of the Arts in Floyd, a 3 part story I wrote for a Floyd Press insert, Know […]