A few days ago I was driving from Silver Spring MD to Michigan, but called my Aunt Nancy (my fathers sister) to see if she and her husband, Tom, might be up for a short notice visit. They live in West Virginia. Sure, well be home in a couple hours, stop by, you know where were at. Actually, I dont. I dont think Ive ever been there. It turns out I had, but not since the mid 1970s. The address was texted to me and I arrived in time for we thought wed take you out to dinner. Though I had eaten a couple hours ago, I could watch you eat, maybe eat a bit myself, I said. We went to the Golden Corral Buffet. Hey, you dont have to do that, I said to my uncle as he tried to pay for my buffet. Oh, no, we told you.. So they did. After a brief explanation of the layout and procedure, I grabbed a plate and found some food. When I returned with salad and some fruit, Uncle Tom looked at my plate, then at me and said in his native Virginia drawl, You starting with dessert?, which made me laugh. His plate was 3/4 meat. Apparently I was doing it wrong. On my second trip, I made Uncle Tom proud with a pile of meat and a side. Aunt Nancy and I shared stories of my great-grandfather, Wallace Compton. Since she was 8 years younger than my dad, her stories were different from the stories told to me by my now late father. Most stories involved my great-grandfather and a gun. Third plate was also meat-laden. I was told theres a dessert bar, Did ya see it? By now I was fitting right in, and said, Meat is dessert. I spent the night with them, watched TV with them: a show about gold miners and fell asleep watching a reality show about Alaskan Bush People. The next morning I was offered breakfast including meat. Though I wasnt hungry from the overindulgence the night before, I ate my fair share. As I said my goodbyes, I was given travel advice. Uncle Tom began, Now dont buy gas in West Virginia or Pennsylvania, gas is 40 cents higher than it is in Ohio. If you can wait, buy your gas in Ohio. I couldnt believe they were complaining about the cost of gasoline at $2.39/gal. Now to git outta here, you want to take 81 north to 70, and you take that west. Oh, I have GPS on my phone, it takes me where I want to go, I said. Oh, said Uncle Tom. He hesitated, and began again. Now to git to 81, you go out...you know where we ate last night? I wasnt paying attention. Oh, he said. You know when we passed Outback Steakhouse? (All landmarks serve food.) No. I have GPS, so I dont pay attention, plus I was sitting in the back seat. Uncle Tom was disappointed in me and it showed. Well you want to take a left out of the driveway... I put my hand on his shoulder, asked, Were going to do this, arent we? Aunt Nancy had begun to laugh along with me. Ye-ah, said Uncle Tom. While he spoke, I ignored him and smiled broadly. Aunt Nancy smiled, too, laughing a little. Aunt Nancy took her turn, to complain about the tolls on the Turnpike. It used to be a buck sixty five, now its doubled. Really? I said, stifling a laugh Ye-es, its $3.35, she said in her transplanted drawl, having lived in Virginia or West Virginia for 50 years. She finished with, I dont know what theyre doing with the extra money, giving it to millionaires, I guess. Twenty minutes...TWENTY MINUTES it took them to give me directions, instruct me about gasoline prices and how and why to avoid tolls. Their son, Mike, walked over and asked his mother to take a picture of the two of us together...so that was nice. Ive been laughing about it for 4 days.
Posted on: Thu, 15 Jan 2015 07:47:05 +0000
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