My Hometown USA

  The Complaint Department By Tracy Williams Many times in my life, I have fulfilled the purpose of being a complaint department. Kids…whine. Husbands gripe. Friends vent. I absorb it all and try to throw out a solution. But most complainers aren't interested in fixes, just unloading. The original purpose of a complaint department was to resolve problems, not simply provide a place to gripe. Today, social media has become one enormous complaint department, except there's no manager, no customer service representative, and often no intention of finding a solution! And the customers never leave! You probably have a name in your head of that constant griper. Nothing positive or good ever graces their social media posts…just the negativity of every wrong in their life, from the smallest details to the big events. Yet, everybody's seems dissatisfied. A legitimate complaint seeks a remedy, but a chronic complainer often just seeks an audience. It's mor...

The Sky Is Falling! I Am Too Old for Another Historical Event By Tracy Williams | My Hometown Column The world is falling apart, and I feel the urge to go to Walmart. My algorithms are all doom and gloom! Civilization is hanging on by a thread. Meanwhile, I am wondering how anybody expects me to survive a national emergency without ice cream, toilet paper, and a decent cup of coffee! I don't know what the government's emergency preparedness plan is, but as for me, I'm going to keep baiting them bucks in the backyard with tortillas. I have survived the '70s, Y2K, COVID, and the price of eggs! I've been preparing for the end of the world for 30 years. At this point, I'm beginning to believe the world is just a drama queen. But apparently, we're supposed to be preparing. Prepare how, exactly? I've got three flashlights, none of which have working batteries, a pantry full of expired soup, and a quarter tank of gas. I'm not exactly pioneer material. My an...

Roughing It Was Easier When I Was Firmer Camping. Isn’t it all about getting back to nature, the intimacy with grass, trees and rivers while stripping down to the bare necessities, casting off our modern day conveniences? I am the outdoorsy type. I can “rough it.” Or at least, I used to when I was younger. And firmer. Tent camping was a great way to have a cheap vacation with the kids. Back then, I had a younger back, a firm bottom and had considerably low expectations when it came to comfort. Boys love it. The adventure, the exploration, the dirt, the bugs, the parental sleepover in one room. This type of camping is referred to as primitive camping . And believe me, there’s a reason they call it primitive. Nowadays, I require a memory foam, Tempur-Pedic or something with Sleep Numbers. Preferably numbers that guarantee I won’t wake up feeling like I’ve been beaten with a two-by-four. At my delicate age, air conditioner and a fan are necessities, not luxuries. My...

  Hurricanes, Tornadoes, Floods or Earthquakes, oh My!   The warnings! The predictions! The fearmongering! The constant reminder that we’d better get ready cause Weather is out to get us! I heard the phrase thrown out, “Godzilla El Nino!” Good grief. Now the weather has a monster title! Hasn’t weather always had its moments. Experts are all over the place, explaining, theorizing, predicting and occasionally getting it right. I mean, my grandmother’s aching joints predicted rain better than some million-dollar weather computers! And while we are discussing scientific advancements, why are we still relying on a rodent to predict early spring? But not to worry, there is always bad weather with 24-hour news cycles. What’s the disaster de jour? Earthquakes popping up all over the map! European Tornadoes! And indescribable floods of biblical proportions! And with our phones glued to our hands we can watch every terrifying minute live from the comfort of our recliners. ...

  Signs Along the Way Signs, signs, everywhere a sign… Blocking out the scenery and breaking my mind! There are all kinds of signs along the pathways of life. Signs to direct us, inform us, warn us, tempt us—and occasionally confuse the daylights out of us. You can always tell when political season has arrived because suddenly every patch of grass along the highway sprouts a candidate. Those little signs start littering the roads, bombarding us with names of people running for offices we sometimes didn't even know existed. We pass our candidate and think, Yep, that's my guy. Then we pass his opponent and perhaps entertain the fleeting thought that it wouldn't be terrible if a strong gust of wind carried that particular sign into the next county. You know you've thought about it. But don't give in to the Dark Side. Apparently, there are people who actually go around plucking up their opponent's signs. The people I really feel sorry for during ...

  Somewhere between Mississippi and the Shire If I could visualize an earthly heaven, it might be like the Shire from Lord of the Rings. But, to do that, I would have to move to New Zealand. And those people talk funny over there. Or another paradise would be to live in a mountain cabin in a Thomas Kinkade setting like his paintings. Born in South Mississippi and presently a Huntsville, Alabama resident, I dream of living in a perfect heaven of my own imagination. I guess that is somewhere between Mississippi and the Shire! When I visualize our Heaven on Earth, these are the choice spots I am drawn to. But, back in my daily reality, my address has changed, but my idea of home keeps getting simpler. For my six decades plus on this Earth, I have not settled too far away from the start spot. The Shire is a long way off, and any paradise of mine needs a good porch. A Thomas Kinkade cabin looks amazing, but I also need a Walmart nearby. Yes, apparently I have grown acc...