Eating ribs and shooting turkeys

To say I lived a sheltered life in suburban Ohio when I was growing up would be an understatement. It was a very narrow existence where everyone was more or less like myself. We were white, for the most part comfortably Protestant, college educated, Republican, middle class and very insulated. And I do not miss that life one bit.

It was an adjustment, a great adjustment, for me when we moved to this small town. I grew up in the city, surrounded by people like myself. Now there was no one like myself. It took me forever to figure out that each community has it's own way of doing things. For example, in my neck of the woods, it was customary to send wedding gifts directly to the bride's home in advance of the wedding or directly to the couple afterwards. Here, one brings the gift directly to the wedding because opening gifts is one of the reception activities along with tossing the bouquet and cutting the cake. If someone dies, the city tradition is to send flowers and a note of condolence to the bereaved. Here one takes over food and goes to the wake to personally express sympathy. I bumbled around for many years.

Hubster's vocation, as was my Dad's and now mine, tends to be isolating. We have been perceived as fat cats and snobs by some, and as people who really don't know what constitutes real work and are a bit dense. In many ways that was correct. One of the unexpected blessings of my work has been to peek inside the lives of people who live in very different worlds that I do. I treat a mechanic, an oil field worker, an automotive plant assembly line worker, a teacher, a cashier, a forklift operator, a warehouse supervisor, a bricklayer etc. Son's work as an electrician and firefighter has also helped me to understand the life of the working man and woman. And as a result I am able to connect more easily with the people in my town.

Last night we enjoyed an excellent rib dinner at the American Legion. It was a community fundraiser to provide goodies for our local men and women in the military. I have treated one of those young people who is currently serving in Iraq. Today we plan to head out to the Fire Department's annual turkey shoot. Despite the name, no live turkeys are killed in this process. It's actually target shooting. The winner of each round can either take home a turkey or a ham donated by local stores. Shooting competitions are actually a great equalizer. I've seen a judge square off against a hot shot 12 year old. Once it warms up, it'll be a nice day to be outside. And there's always lots of ribbing and that's part of the fun. As I slip shells into my husband's shotgun, I'll chuckle. I remember being taught to curtsy, now I'm learning to take aim.