Gallivanting Day

Today Is Gallivanting Day.

Anna takes normally Fridays off because by then she already has over her max time allowed.

So today we go to Smyrna, Ga., for her to get a perm. After I let her off I will go to the Smyrna Library and romp and run between the book shelves… either that or go to their genealogy room like I usually do and do a tad of research.

This morning I ran 2.4 miles. I ran to a neighboring neighborhood, but all part of the same subdivision. I have not walked, ran, or biked in this neighborhood in probably a year or more and thought I would see if things have changed. Of course it has.

For one thing, less dogs barked at me. Why would less dogs bark at me. Aren’t just a threat to their territory as I was a year or so ago? Maybe they sense I am older and not as mean and ruthless. Or it could be that I forgot my IPOD playing music.

Maybe the dogs were hollering in a barking talk, “Hey! Turn that damn thing down! We have sensitive ears you know!”

Travis Tritt”s ex-house wasn’t as neat as it used to look. The yard looked kind of shabby also. After he made several big country hits he bought him several hundred acres over in the neighboring county.

One time Travis shot a stray dog in his yard. A neighbor of his who I used to walk with a lot called the law on him. The National Enquirer got a hold of it and interviewed her in the hospital, where she was recuperating from knee surgery. By the time the writer, editor, and photographer got finished with the story you would think Travis shot her – and she was in the hospital because of their conflict.

This woman, Beverly, went to high school with my wife. In fact, their birthdays are only one day apart. Beverly also has a twin sister. Over many of our walks I knew her life story and the history of her family, through her eyes.

One day when I worked on the window at the Post Office a lady came in and we started talking.. it is funny how native Mariettans knows how to ask key questions to find out if you are a native or not. Well, this lady and I did that, and found out we were both natives and she said a couple of things that clued me in that she was Beverly’s sister, without telling me that…. Like in high school her and her sister shared a Navy blue Mustang convertible, something like that.. and her sister was an animal activist… I knew that. Finally I blurted out: “Your birthday is December 18, 1948!” She was knocked down by that. How in the world did I know that??? I pretended I knew all and saw all. And she kept at me, so I finally confessed I knew her twin sister.

The house next to where Travis Tritt lived is a man who built a trail calaboose (or is it caboose?) – the red car on the back of trains…. On a flatbed truck. I remember hearing about him through Beverly. He is retired from the railroad and built it with the hopes that he would drive around to various grammar schools and give the kids sort of a hands-on train museum. After he finished it, I don’t think he had any takers. Now, it, the flatbed, and the white truck that was to haul it is sitting in the middle of high growing grass rusting.

Small world. Beverly was divorced from a kid I grew up with. The guy’s brother is my contractor building the spare storeroom under our den.