By Don Buck P. Creacy
Whoever said there is no entertainment in a small town hasn’t tried very hard to find it. Why, all you have to do is just sit down on the curb and wait a minute, and you’ll be giggling like teenage girls at a sock-hop. Entertainment will find you and you don’t even have to pay for it.
Here’s an example. The little red sports car came blasting by where I was sitting. You’ll have to do the sound effects for yourself but it sounded a little like this. Bah-loom-da-ding-ding-brrrr-blap-blap-blap! The car slowed down by the Dollar Store, turned around and came back by just a getting it. Bah-loom-da-ding-ding-brrrr-blap-blap-blap! On up the street near the EMS station and the Stamping Ground Elementary School, turned around and came back by my seat on the curb. That old dog and me just watched it. Bah-loom-da-ding-ding-brrrr-blap-blap-blap! One more time into the Post Office parking lot and then back out onto 227 and up toward me and the dog. This time he slowed down and I thought I knew what discerned his worry. Him and that girl was all snuggled up behind the steering wheel. I thought his power steering was out. Down came the window and he said, “I’m looking for Stamping Ground, Kentucky.”
I say; “Don’t you dare move. This is it.”
He said; “We are a little turned around. Does this road go to Georgetown?”
I say; “No sir, it stays right here.
He said; “Can I take this road to Georgetown?”
I say; “I suppose, but why would you do that? There’s already plenty of roads there in Georgetown.”
He said; “If I keep driving this way on this road, will I eventually arrive at Georgetown?”
I say; “Yes sir but it’s almost 25,000 miles that ways and some of it is pretty wet wheeling.”
The window went up, the little car did its best big car imitation and bah-loom-da-ding-ding-brrrr-blap-blap-blap down to the Dollar Store again and turned around. I waved as they went by and I am pretty sure that old dog sitting with me smiled just a little bit. I don’t mind being someone else’s buffoon if it’s good for a giggle.
Old dogs seem to find me. They used to just walk right up to me and lick my hands back when I was a boy. Then somewhere around the time I turned 13 and started noticing girls and washing my hands regular. Well, they just stopped licking my hands but they still find me. I am an excellent ear scratcher and belly rubber. I love dogs. Which leads me to my next area of small town entertainment.
I was checking out at the grocery and of course I am not shy and I talk to everyone in line and that’s how it should be in this world of high tech communications. Folks seem to have forgotten the magic of one voice talking to another voice and four ears listening.
“Do you have a dog?” The lady behind me said, because she noticed the 40 lb. bag of Purina Dog Chow in my basket.
“No, no I don’t have a dog. I’m going back on that Purina Dog Food Diet. I just got out of the hospital and I had lost about 30 some odd pounds on the Purina Dog Food Diet and I am going back on it to lose the rest of this baby fat I’ve been packing around for 66 years.”
The high school gal that was checking my groceries just stopped. I noticed she stopped beeping so I looked at her; “Did it make you sick?”
“What make me sick?”
“That dog food diet?”
“Oh no, Honey, I was sitting out in the road, scratching my ear and got clipped by a dump truck.”
Whether it’s called kidding, pulling your leg, spinning a yarn, or just having a little fun, small town living is entertaining because of the colorful language exchanges we have with one another. Just keeping fresh. So the next time someone asks you how you’re feeling or doing, tell them the truth. Tell them you’re mischievous.
Don Buck P. Creacy can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org