Small Town Observations

 After living in a mega-metropolis all my life, I'm surprised at what is becoming normal while living in a small town. 

• I called Polly's doctor the other day. I asked that her medication be transferred to a different pharmacy. My reason for calling: she was at school and I'm her mother. HIPA laws be damned. I did the same with Marty's prescription at a different doctor. Nobody questioned this. 

• Worship music is everywhere: The dentist's office. Restaurants. Gas Stations. EVERYWHERE.

• Speaking of Worship, it is the culture. Polly and I attended a baby shower in January. There was a blessing before we ate. Marty's work's holiday Christmas party included a prayer before breaking bread. The police department (Arkansas side) went to Facebook, asking for prayers for a child who'd been injured during a crime. Every Corona party starts with a prayer. Buck's martial arts tournaments (which are not held in Texarkana) start with prayers. Polly's concerts start with prayers. It would be weird not to. I asked my Texarkana acquaintance who is not into the whole Jesus thing how she feels about this element of Southern culture, she said it doesn't bother her. "You do you," was her attitude.

• Roasted, braised, steamed and raw vegetables are mere suggestions. If the salad happens to be raw, it is mixed with--and I'm not making this up--mayonnaise (which, is gross). Otherwise, people eat breaded and fried veggies. On purpose. Often. As a side note, there probably aren't enough cardiologists in this town for the amount of fried foods that are served in restaurants. 

• People go out of their way to be kind. When I take my afternoon walks, motorists wave. I'm thinking it is a state law to wave to pedestrians, or it is a state law for pedestrians to wave to motorists. On several Texarkana Facebook groups I belong to, I see posts about "hey strangers, I need a ride to Wal-Mart, anyone heading that way from (the town of) Leary? May I tag along? Six people will respond. The same will go for "My mother is by herself and lives on 123 Elm Street. I can't get over there, but she isn't answering her phone, would one of you perfect strangers in the neighborhood mind checking on her? Nobody minds, and not ten minutes later we all will have an update on this person's mother. Speaking of kind, the other day I saw a boy, about 10, walking home from school holding his little sister's hand. She couldn't have been more than six--that level of kindness. 

• Even in the dumpier parts of town, litter and graffiti isn't a thing. Sure, the homes are older. Sure, there are run down neighborhoods. But these folks still take care of their yards. Their streets are clean. The other day I saw someone walking across a crosswalk, who stopped, and picked up a piece of trash before the light changed. I doubt I would have noticed this kind of thing in Phoenix, if it happens at all. You Phoenicians, please let me know.