Smokey Mountain Breakdown

I'm just putting a short post in tonight. It's Sunday and I usually take a bit of time off from writing on Sunday. But the deal is that I must write something.

A friend came over to my house and we watched Brokeback Mountain. This is not the sort of film that shows at the Newport CinemaPlex. Well, I started choking up around the last time they see each other and it was downhill from there. I'm glad I didn't see it in a movie theater because I would have quite shamed myself. I'm not one of those people who weeps tidily. There are some women who manage to look quite lovely as tears trace out of their eyes. That's just not me. When I'm by myself, I can really rip loose with a good cry. But since I had company, I did try to restrain myself. A bit.

There's just something lovely and cathartic about a good cry. I feel like the ground must feel after a nice hard rain.

Then we got on the subject somehow of domestic violence in the community.

I think we were talking about getting "whoopin's" as children. My parents never laid a hand on me when I was growing up. They never needed to. My mother was gifted with "the look". This sort of way that she looked at you and pursed her lips that was absolutely unquestionable. It was worse than being hit. In a second, my mother could telepathically convey all sorts of horrors that would occur(but never did) if I did not immediately cease whatever it was that I was doing.

The conversation segued into domestic violence. The women here are very strong. The men have good reason to be afraid of them and if not of them, then of their male relatives. If someone threatens to kill you up here, it's definitely not a joke.

There is this tale of a woman who lived up the road more towards Del Rio. Her husband was known to take a violent turn when he got all likkered up. This one evening he came home drunk, no doubt on some of the excellent white lightning that is made up here. They tell me our community supplies the Tennessee State House with hooch, it's that good. It also makes excellent vanilla extract and elderberry cordial. Not that I'd know or anything, but it only costs 6 bucks a quart.

The husband takes a swipe at the wife and then passes out in the bed. She gets out her needle and thread and sews him up in the sheet on the bed. Then, she goes out and finds a stout stick and proceeds to beat the crap out of him, all the while him being unable to escape from his "shroud".

I'm not sure how he managed to extricate himself from this situation. I imagine that is a tale unto itself. But he left her after that. Told all his buddies that he was afraid to be in the same house with her.

I love that story.

Payback is certainly a bitch.