Fort Payne

2 Comments Posted on Nostalgia, People, Storytelling, Uncategorized

I Was Born in a Small Town

While movies we watch tend to portray life in the “big city” because it’s more practical to film in larger cities, I would say that the settings of Country songs portray what life was like for most of us while growing up, whether the hometown is in the South or not. In fact, I can’t really think of anyone I personally know who grew up in the heart of a big city. Small towns and suburbs seem to be much more relevant to America as I know it, compared to the city life I grew up seeing on John Hughes’ movies set in Chicago (like The Breakfast Club and Ferris Bueller’s Day Off) and Saved by the Bell which was set near Los Angeles. Somewhere between Seinfeld and Little House on the Prairie is the setting of my real life.

Spending my first 18 years in Fort Payne, Alabama, it seemed everyone I knew pretty much knew everything about me. Actually, I should say that everyone knew everything about everyone. There was no avoiding it. I graduated in a class of 183 students, most of whom I knew from at least Kindergarten. Their parents had seen me grow up. We pretty much all went to one of four main churches (either Baptist or Methodist).

Just saying the name “Fort Payne” has the same connotation to me as the word “cousin” or “aunt” or “1st grade teacher”- people who knew me as a kid that cried when E.T. had to leave Elliot to go back to his home planet. People who I could never try to act too cool around- they simply know me too well. That’s what my hometown is to me.

And that’s not a bad thing, at all. There definitely is a unique comfort in a home town. Hence the word “home”.

Back in February, my wife and I had a free weekend so we decided to spend it at a free bed-and-breakfast in Fort Payne (my parents’ house). We noticed how quiet and peaceful the city is. The opposite of the life we often know in Nashville. My wife wanted to take a driving tour of the place, so since I had already shown her the tourist spots (the canyon and the waterfall) I decided to drive her around the neighborhoods I spent time in.

As I drove up the big hill where we as Cub Scouts had a box car race, I saw my friend Alex Igou’s dad working in the yard. My wife was amazed that he knew who I was right away and that we talked a good 10 minutes before we went on our way to get some coffee at the local coffee shop. Which is owned and ran by my other friend Alex Pate’s mom. While there, the other customers who came in also greeted me by name. That caused my wife to say, “Do you know EVERYBODY in this town?!”

Pretty much. Nearly all 13,000 of them. Or I would least be recognized as “Jack Shell’s boy”. I learned that the same reasons an 18-year old kid was ready to leave his small hometown on Graduation Day became the same reasons I found the town endearing today, ten years later.

The town that for a brief time in 1989 held the record for the world’s largest cake. The town that the Country music super-group Alabama put on the map. The town with the self-proclaimed title “Sock Capitol of the World”, which is proudly displayed on the green Fort Payne City Limits sign with the word “capitol” being misspelled. Maybe one day they’ll finally fix that sign.

 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fort_Payne

This article was posted in The Franklin News of Franklin, TX in July 2009.

Leave a comment Posted on Nostalgia, People, Storytelling, Uncategorized

Stage Presence: How I Went From a Shy Kid to an Outgoing Local Actor, Thanks to Eddie McPherson

Growing up, I was labeled a “shy kid”. But in 1989 when I was in 3rd grade, a young local playwright named Eddie McPherson had faith and saw potential in me, recruiting me to portray an island native boy named Maybe in a play he wrote. Wearing a loin cloth, a rope belt, and a khaki colored t-shirt, I spoke in broken English. (Though off the top of my head I can’t think of any island societies where a white boy with brown spiky hair would not be speaking English as a first language.) This play, Captain Gilabo, would be the vehicle that introduced me to a life where I realized it was actually easier and more natural to be on the stage than it was to hide in the corner, afraid of the spotlight.

Every year he would choose me to play a decent sized role for his newest play, from 3rd grade until 9th grade when he moved away from our small town. But my participation in drama didn’t stop only with Eddie McPherson’s plays. During the summers of my childhood to support local charities, for my senior class play, in the after school program I worked for, and in college, I had stage presence. Actually ending up on the front page of my hometown paper several times, promoting the current play I was in.

Not that I was an amazing actor, it’s more that I learned that a good majority of people didn’t necessarily want to be in plays. But for me, I realized that if I simply memorized my lines and pretended to be someone else, I could pull it off. (Because we all have to adapt our personality to better suite those we are around on a daily basis, it seemed to me that acting is a constant part of life anyway.) I became a hometown child actor not because I was necessarily great at it, but because I was willing to do it.

Simply put, I didn’t have much competition. That’s one of the same reasons I have such a passion for writing. The truth is, hardly anyone I know writes on facebook. It gives me the corner on the market. If it was a crowded market instead, I doubt I would be as inspired to participate so regularly. But knowing my competitions were “25 Things” forwards and “What Kind of Hot Pocket Are You?” quizzes, I learned to take advantage of the “notes” tab.

 

I am convinced there are many entertaining, insightful, and talented people with an impressive ability to write. But they just don’t do it. I wish they would. Some of the best inspiration I get is by reading the writings of the people that hear the same dog whistle as me.

The inspiration and the audience are often one in the same.

 

The people that are tired of the all too familiar Christian writing involving a predictable moral point like “just trust in God and everything will be alright” like it was copied and pasted from a 2001 email forward that says only people who really love God will send it to everyone in their contacts, or the seemingly smart but ultimately depressing, Debbie Downer-like “my take on what’s wrong with today’s church” bit.

And people who realize that reminiscing about the memories we all share is more fun than worrying out the future and things we can’t control. And people that like to be made aware of the subtle, random aspects of life that we accept yet don’t notice. “Christian Seinfeld with an actual point.”  When people ask me what can of stuff I write, that is my answer.

 

2 Comments Posted on Nostalgia, People, Storytelling, Uncategorized

People are the Meaning of Life: Money Vs. Love

 

Earlier in the summer I wrote an article where I mocked “treasure movies” because the people searching for the treasure don’t usually get to keep the money or gold. The bad guy gets the treasure instead and dies/turns to a statue/becomes cursed, etc. The good guy gets the “real treasure”, which is a lofty moral proverb about life itself being the actual treasure. With this in mind, the past three days spent in my hometown Labor Day weekend helped make it clear that while life is the real treasure, it’s the people in our lives that give life meaning. Simple concept, but I’ve never really let it sink in before: People are the meaning of life.

Last Friday I took off work to visit Fort Payne, AL in action. I wanted my wife to see the award winning elementary school, the place I used to work, my parents’ places of work, their church, and the local Greek restaurant. Each time we arrived at a new place, I was surrounded by people I’ve known at least for the past 20 years. Childhood friends, their parents, and people I know through association in the 13,000 population town. It reminded me of the end of the movie Big Fish and also Mr. Holland’s Opus. Everyone was there and everyone was happy to be there.

Money becomes irrelevant when it comes to family and close friends. My parents have made it clear to me without actually having to say it, that raising a child is a priceless job: No amount of money could equal all they have sacrificed or gained. There are certain experiences and areas of personal growth that can only be obtained through human relationships.

I remember in high school being asked this question in class: “Which would you rather have- a billion dollars but no human contact whatsoever, or countless good friends but very little money?” Not even the class clown chose the money, not even for a easy laugh.

My stock answer for the question of the meaning of life has always been “to please God”. But even Jesus himself made it very clear that it’s impossible to love and serve God without loving and serving people. Jesus said one of the greatest commandments of all is to “love your neighbor as yourself” and even taught his followers to also love their enemies. People are the meaning of life.

I can’t help but see a direct co-relation between the world’s health care crisis and the lack of Christian involvement. Not our “Christianized American government”. It’s not their job. It was left up to the Christians, starting in the New Testament. But the government is left to pick up the slack, and tends to disappoint. The Apostle James said that true religion is caring for widows and orphans. People are the meaning of life.

“The truth is, we say not as we do… Pick up the beat and stop hogging the feast- that’s no way to treat an enemy.” -Jack Johnson (“Sleep through the Static”)