kids

friday firesmith – Dolly

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I grew up in the 1960s, in South Georgia, where most of the older people, and by older I mean anyone over twenty-five, listened to country music. It was a religious thing, where country music, and by default, those who played and sang it, were holy. Rock and Roll was evil. Children were to be seen and not heard, and children certainly were not allowed to have an opinion on music and they would listen to whatever their parents decided they would listen to and they would be happy, too.

I was not.

Like the French Resistance, we knew a guy, okay, an older kid, who had a tiny transistor radio with an earpiece. We would tune into one of the few not country stations, AM at that, and listen to top 40, which was as close to rock as we were going to get.

I never liked country music mostly because it was forced upon me, as was my taste in clothing, food, television programming, and just about every other aspect of life.

Dolly Parton was an enigma to me. Dressed like a two-dollar hooker, with unimaginably large breasts, and with a voice that sounded like someone in water over their head yelling, “Shark!” Dolly Parton’s singing was irritating. Worse, a lot of it was smarmy. And as I grew older, Dolly Parton was a wig wearing ghost who haunted the radio stations.

But then there were books.

I grew up being able to pick and choose what I read. It was one of the few areas of absolute freedom I had in personal choice. I read books like it was a religion. I pretended to be sick to get out of school so I could read more. I called in sick from work so I could read. I fell asleep reading.

And Dolly was giving away free books to kids, little kids. I was not going to start singing, “Jolene” in the shower but I started paying attention to what this person was doing. Books were my currency in deciding whether or not I could be friends with, or even like someone.

Dolly’s “Imagination Library” has donated over 300 million books to children under five across the globe.

Dolly started the “Buddy Program” which teamed seven and eight graders who would receive five hundred dollars each if they both graduated from high school. Drop out rates dropped from over one third to single digits.

DWF Home

Dolly’s, “Dollywood Foundation” in an international charity that has stepped in and stepped up many times since its creation in 1988. Spanning the globe like a giant blonde wig, this is an organization who had helped after wildfires, Covid, and much more.

I rather listen to a coon hound being cut in half longways with a plastic spork than hear Dolly Parton sing. But as far as being a good human being, Dolly Parton is a fucking Saint.

Her death is one of the few celebrities I will mourn for the rest of my life. Irreplaceable, one of a kind, and one of the best human beings that ever irritated me with her voice, I will die loving Dolly Parton with all my heart and books.

Take Care,

Mike

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friday firesmith – the haunted house

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Way back in the 1960s, my family lived in the small town of Blakely Georgia, a town famous for nothing at all except having a peanut butter factory that let contaminated peanut butter to kill seven people nationwide with a salmonella outbreak. That was many years ago, and I haven’t been back to that town in more years than that.

The road going to school, and we rode our bikes to school, was dirt, so those kids worried about their clothes getting muddy would ride slow. We rode fast and got dirty. Then they paved the road one year and ruined it.

A green and white house at the end of the road had home made signs that read, “No Trespassing” and “Keep out!” but we never saw anyone in the house or a car in the yard. We kids decided it was haunted. We had no reason to think ghosts had written the signs, but that didn’t stop us.

The yard wasn’t mowed on a regular basis, weeds popped up, the fence around the yard, which looked terrible even to kids, eventually fell over and it disappeared. We worried the ghost was now free to roam the earth and that’s not a bad beginning for a ghost story.

Yet over the years, just a few actually, but three or four years for a ten year old is almost half a lifetime, we ran out of reasons to believe in ghosts. A family with two little kids moved into the house, and since they were little kids we suspected the ghosts would eat them, not that there was a reason to believe that ghosts had to eat.

Then they bused us to the other side of town, to the middle school and we stopped riding our bikes as much. Suddenly, we were in high school and one day I went by the haunted house and they were tearing it down.

My family had moved to another neighborhood by that time and no one rode bikes to school when they could drive. The stories we would have told about the ghosts murdering the family, and as far as I know no one was murdered at all, would have kept us going, but it was too late . I realize now, having driven by the place where the haunted house once stood, it wasn’t ghosts that were haunting that house, but us.

What there a house in your home town people thought was haunted?

Take Care,

Mike

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