Small Towns and Surviving Friendships: More Difficult Than You’d Believe

The most valuable asset one can own, especially in a small town, is a solid friendship.

The currency is loyalty. The method of transfer is the benefit of the doubt. If you are willing to show your loyalty by giving your friend the benefit of the doubt, you sir, or madame, are a true friend.

I got in trouble last week for not mentioning my local friends. I thought (and still think) I was doing them a favor. The past several years I’ve felt it would be somewhat irresponsible if not downright reckless for me to do that.

You certainly never see me endorse a candidate. I wouldn’t dare. Equally I’m reticent to out a friendship, thus permanently staining them.

The cause celebre of small town life is exaggeration, i.e., gossip. It is also where friendships mete out or wither in the heat.

My celebrity, my small town celebrity, afforded me by this publication, is that of being outspoken regarding subject matter 50% of our nation thinks is common sense, but which probably translates to only 20% (if that) of our local population, and leaves me the recipient of much exaggeration.

For example, the most outlandish and stupid thing over the years is that according to the masses, I don’t believe in God.

It’s not really any of your business, is it? But yet, you make it so.

It’s none of my business if you believe in a god. I don’t qualify my relationships with a holy litmus test. I don’t really care if you do or do not.

However, and just for the sake of further argument, I do believe in God.

I didn’t however say I believe in the fairy tale god you believe in. In this world our gods are increasingly on a spectrum. I suspect yours is probably more closely related to ancient Greek’s Zeus, where mine is more related to making good choices as they relate to those around you.

Also, and this has happened repeatedly over the years, according to popular exaggeration, I’m not fit to serve on a committee in either city or county government. I am fit to be the joke of, “well maybe if there was an adult dancing committee.”

I have no idea what this means. I’ve never hired an adult dancer or an adult performer, or anything related. I don’t have anything against dancing. I was not aware of that being a thing in 2021.

I have on the other hand served as Chamber of Commerce president, Relay for Life Chair, Rotary Club president, and a lengthy stint as the country club’s president, where I helped take them from perennially losing money, to making money.

I’ve served dutifully on committee after committee for all of the above organizations. I haven’t asked for recognition and I haven’t used them to boost my politics, my beliefs or my pocketbook.

I’ve stood out in the cold holding a sign for local republican candidates. I’ve actively advised and campaigned for local democrat candidates.

But still none of this qualifies me to serve even on a janitorial committee in either the city or county governments.

Why?

I suppose it’s because I write things, most of the time 100% correct things, that are read by people who think a woman’s place is to be secondary, who in their hearts know alternative facts are a fact and finally who believe a woman’s womb is subject to the wishes of their flatulent pastor.

I am politically incorrect….to (at least) 80% of you.

But also, and this is what really gets you, I’m honest to a fault.

Growing up, it turns out I never fully grasped the definition of this phrase, “Honest to a fault.” We thought the fault aspect of this would only appear rarely and be associated only in perilous times, where you must tell a lie, to save another’s feelings…or life…or whatever.

In reality, I believe most people simply don’t want to hear the truth. Or as my boy Jack once said, “You can’t handle the truth!”

Turns out, that’s probably the truth.

When a politician is questioned about a program or a situation, etcetera, their response is to smile “real” big, shake your hand and tell you exactly what you want to hear.

One of the most favorite of all things for a politician to do, is when they yell at an innocent third party, as if they were the culprits, thus satiating the blood lust of the questioner.

My response is to tell the truth. Either I don’t know anything, I am bereft of knowledge on the subject, or if I do, I tell the person all that I know, and explain the gray area where we are having problems finding common ground or reaching a decision.

This is too boring for many of the questioners. Their eyes glaze over.

This is too boring for the common man of today. He needs fire. He needs convictions. He needs blood. He doesn’t need common sense.

The only best thing this honesty gives me is the ability to walk into a room, with no need for guile or guilt. I have nothing to hide and no need to right any of your perceived wrongs.

Why in the world would you want to associate with me?

I appreciate all of you that do. I am fortunate to call so many of you friends. But for now, you’re better off in the shadows. Believe me, give me the benefit of the doubt, you’ll thank me later!