I am celebrating the Fourth of July somewhere in the vicinity of Hamilton, NY, crashing for the weekend in a doublewide trailer with nine other people, two labs and a German shepherd. Don’t worry–I wasn’t entirely sure what a doublewide was either, but rest assured, it is every bit as crowded as it sounds.
Just in time for my trip to Hicksville, I lost a tooth on the drive up. “Don’t worry, you’ll fit right in,” said my friend Linda, whose hometown we’re visiting, as I spit my brand new crown out of my mouth and held it our to her, wailing, from the backseat. Sure enough, as soon as we pulled into her place, I got to meet the neighbors, who were in fact missing quite a few teeth. Immediately, I felt right at home.
I put an emergency call in to my dentist who swore up and down that all I had to do was fill my crown with Vaseline and “pop it right back in.” Um, no offense, but I’d rather walk around toothless. To celebrate my newfound devil may care attitude, I ate everything she told me not to: Rolos, A huge Tootsie Roll and a pack of gum. Who knew being partially toothless could be so liberating?
This morning, we all biked into town on a country road that wound through rolling green hills, pastures of cows and golden fields, and the most vile smelling cattle farm ever. So much for fresh country air.
In town, we camped out along the sidewalk and witnessed the most random 4th of July parade that, as far as I could tell, really didn’t have a thing to do with patriotism or independence. It was more of a roving caravan of billboards for a. Jesus b. Local businesses and c. Politicians. My favorite, after the Jesus Power Lab float, where children dressed as mad scientists were singing the praises of the Lord, was the gazebo float, which had a for sale sign on it and a telephone number for Gerry’s Gazebos. In the middle of the floating gazebo was a shiny motorcycle. Because nothing makes you want to buy a gazebo like a Harley.
I tried to fit in with the locals by drinking a tallboy in a paper bag at noon. The only problem is, I hate most beers that come in a can. So after a few sips, I abandoned all further efforts at unleashing my inner redneck. I think sleeping on the floor of a trailer and carrying my tooth in my wallet earns me all the cred I need.
- Keely Shows Off Her Ball
Barn at Sunset
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tagged: candy, dentist, Hicksville, toothless, trailer trash
Welcome to rural America. I will say, though, that you become addicted to the peace and quiet. It takes about a full year before the cattle farm smell quits making you gag.
At least you got to hang out with a German Shepherd!
Classic. Really! Losing a tooth on the way to the sticks. You really took it literally, didn’t you?
Funny, I am in NC for med. issues from Norfolk VA My life with the locals is interesting, and scary. Hog farms will make you wish lost your sence of smell.