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He's the fiance of one of my daughter's besties. He's from what I think he would call Massurah (Missourri) on the border with Tennessee.
He's a corrections officer in a very small community where the jail hold 130 people.
Now, first I have to say that when I got to my daughter's home (to baby sit my grandson and another little boy so parents could go out) I walk in and hear this new voice with this accent that was unreal.
He was in the room with his fiancée and I was stunned at this accent. I look at my daughter and ask "is that for real or is he exagerating". My daughter laughs and says "Mom, that's how he talks". I was bemused. It was so different from the West Coast accent. Not bad, just different.
I met him shortly after. I asked him about his accent and he said "Oh, this is nothing compared to how most of the people talk where I come from". Oh my.
Anyway, we start talking and he tells me about his job. Mostly jailing people that are on drugs, homeless, poor, both black and white. Interestingly, he calls black people "African American", which I didn't expect. I like being surprised like that.
So, now to the Skeeters portion of the story. Some homeless guy was so tired of being bit by mosquitoes that he went and turned himself in. Apparently, there was a warrant out for his arrest due to some drug offense.
This young man said most everyone gets to spend time in jail where he's from, mostly because of drug offenses. Even his half-brother was in jail and his trustee for about a year.
It was a good experience for me. Getting to know someone from a very different part of the country. Great guy, interesting though he seems to have gone to the school of hard knocks and is not very well educated.
I had asked him if he was from north or south of the Mason-Dixon line. He didn't know what that was. I simply moved on; asked him if his town was near a big city I might recognize.
Just listening to him talk about his community was a good reminder that people always have a story, no matter where they come from in any given part of the world.
He's a corrections officer in a very small community where the jail hold 130 people.
Now, first I have to say that when I got to my daughter's home (to baby sit my grandson and another little boy so parents could go out) I walk in and hear this new voice with this accent that was unreal.
He was in the room with his fiancée and I was stunned at this accent. I look at my daughter and ask "is that for real or is he exagerating". My daughter laughs and says "Mom, that's how he talks". I was bemused. It was so different from the West Coast accent. Not bad, just different.
I met him shortly after. I asked him about his accent and he said "Oh, this is nothing compared to how most of the people talk where I come from". Oh my.
Anyway, we start talking and he tells me about his job. Mostly jailing people that are on drugs, homeless, poor, both black and white. Interestingly, he calls black people "African American", which I didn't expect. I like being surprised like that.
So, now to the Skeeters portion of the story. Some homeless guy was so tired of being bit by mosquitoes that he went and turned himself in. Apparently, there was a warrant out for his arrest due to some drug offense.
This young man said most everyone gets to spend time in jail where he's from, mostly because of drug offenses. Even his half-brother was in jail and his trustee for about a year.
It was a good experience for me. Getting to know someone from a very different part of the country. Great guy, interesting though he seems to have gone to the school of hard knocks and is not very well educated.
I had asked him if he was from north or south of the Mason-Dixon line. He didn't know what that was. I simply moved on; asked him if his town was near a big city I might recognize.
Just listening to him talk about his community was a good reminder that people always have a story, no matter where they come from in any given part of the world.
