Tuesday, June 28, 2005

ah, sweet Georgia


I am, by nature and by upbringing, a city boy. I have always loved gadgets and things that make my life easier and allow me to be more lazy, and things that distract me from the important things of this world: computers are my playground, I nearly always need a fan to fall asleep, it's hard to live without a car, I have to have wireless light switches because I don't like to find my way in the dark to my bed . . . any number of things, you name it, I probably have it, or at least want to but don't have the money for it . . . yet.

This weekend, as some of you know, I went to Georgia to sing for Katie Almeter (now Schaffer) and John Paul Shaffer's wedding (who, as a side note, looks errily like my uncle did before he put on some chub.) I must say, I have never been totally fond of the south, and have always been proud to claim yankee-ship. Something this weekend, however, made me wish to be southern. I entered the world of Dearing, Georgia; not knowing what to expect except that there were farms. First of all, they weren't the farms I knew growing up in Maryland as we would drive through the countryside to visit family. They have come to replace my mental image of farm. They are what the family was based upon before the industrial revolution; the center of culture and life, where the children were raised into far more than they have become today. I could say more, but there seems to be no way for me to describe it. In any case; I don't really know of one specific thing that attracted me to it. Honestly, I don't like being far from superstores, and I don't recall any Wal-Marts nearby. I don't like roads gray from the tar having seeped down and not having been recoated, causing for a less than smooth ride. I don't like a number of things that are country life. But this time, I did. I got away from it all. I was refreshed and renergized. I enjoyed the fact that you walked an eighth of a mile to get to choir practice in the morning, and walked that eighth of a mile back to change into your suit, and walking another eighth of a mile back just to use the iron and ironing board. I loved being without light pollution, noisy cars, sirens, unsightly buildings. I loved having a party outside singing songs while loads of summer-bugs flew around in the absence of any sort of citronella candle or bug repellant device. I loved the whole thing.

I don't know what caused it. I am getting used to this though: you know, that sort of "Woah, I never liked this or understood that before" thing. I have been growing up a lot recently, thanks be to God. I'm starting to lose my materialism. I will have the money by the end of the summer to buy a slew of things I want, but don't need, and I don't really want to buy them anymore. I'd still love to have them, it's not like I've lost my interest for the things in which I've always had interest, it's simply that I have finally realized the frivolity of 'things' and the importance of priorities. I'll build and upgrade my dream computer constantly, sure, but not until I have a roof for my wife and kids, clothing for their backs, food to keep them praying, serving, working and playing, my children educated, the needy aided, the church fixed, et cetera. I'm finally (pardon the crudeness) starting to not suck at life. It's an interesting way to put it, I know, but I think it is effective in bidding fairwell to the life used to live, that life before I really knew Christ, the Father, and the Spirit.

I had no point in all of this, as I rarely ever do. All I really wanted to say is that I will do what I can to live in such an environment with such awesome people in the community so that I can raise my children up in it, to pass on the legacy, and to get closer to creation to learn to better love and serve God.

Anyway, as always, I end up rambling and telling some majorly important thing that you have, or someday will hopefully realize. It's my life story, my journal, but live, for the world to see. I've always thought about the idea of being the star of something like The Truman Show, and how much I would have thoroughly hated it. I don't care now though. Here it is: my life, unscripted, uncopyrighted, unpatented, unabridged. Feel free to distribute as you like. God Bless!



  1. City boy, I hope you stayed in the country long enough to appreciate the absence of all the conveniences of the modern era. City folk have a tendency to say, "Ah, country life is the life for me!" and then they go mad and drive back home in the SUV and play their digital fishing games, since they can't fish in real life. However, I shall regard your experience as a true conversion from your wonted ways. Better not backslide!
    Personally, I am still a bona fide Yankee with a bit of a Southern touch of Virginia. New York is still the prettiest state on the East Coast, and the farms, woods, hills, and lakes of New York beat Georgia, Maryland, Virginia, or any other eastern state any day. The Finger Lakes are the gosh darndest prettiest things you ever did see in the world. Well, enough of my boasting, you'd have to see for yourself in order to really understand whay I say so.
    Whatever the case it's true: North, South, East, West, Home's Best.
    Off to California...

  2. Georgia is by far the most beautiful state on the east coast. I've seen them all (except Maine), I lived in New York for a while...
    Georgia is the most beautiful definitely. I remember long summer afternoons catching catfish and freshwater bass. I don't know how to fish and my methods were very unorthodox. I digress.
    Ryan, enjoy your time there. There's very little that you can do in the city that you can't also do in the country.

    God Bless.

  3. A certain John Denver song is coming to my mind,a song that I love but can't really apply to me. "Thank God I'm a Country Boy".
    Ryan, remember this: if you buy things and you don't want them/feel that they are a burnden, I accept donations.
    I've never been to New York or Georgia, but I will say the Mountains in Pennsylvania, near Gettysburg, are pretty darn beautiful.

  4. lol, I'll consider it Matt. BTW, how are you doing?

  5. Hey! We Yanks have some good farms. Come to So Dak!!! Seriously, we invented the farm!
    And if you want rural, come to Bethleham!