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What is it about a little dog?

I did it. I said I wasn’t going to do it, and then I went and did it anyway. I have brought another rescue dog into our home, only this time it isn’t a goofy, 90-lb. lover boy. It’s a 2 lb. princess diva that looks like a miniature fox. All she currently lacks is a teensy diamond-encrusted tiara.

We already have two great dogs, both big ones. At the risk of being branded a dog hoarder, I couldn’t say “no” to this little prima donna. My husband and I gave this a lot of thought to be sure that we weren’t adopting her based on emotion rather than responsibility. Next thing you know, we were packing her into her little carrier and whisking her off to Atlanta.  

The last thing we need in our lives right now is more chaos, another thing to worry about. But there’s just something about a tiny little dog that doesn’t knock you over when barreling down the stairs, or one that can curl up in your lap and become the size of a tennis ball, that’s just so endearing. Don’t get me wrong; we adore our two big dogs. But she needed a home, and I think I needed a tiny little pseudo-baby.

We introduced the little one to the big ones when we arrived back in Atlanta yesterday after a trip to Memphis. Our big male dog, all wags, slobber and love, is intrigued and excited at the prospect of having a new friend to play with. Our big female is more aloof, more reserved in her judgment, than the male. She is suspect of the little dog, and the high-pitched sounds and lightning-fast movements the little one makes get on her nerves. Our big girl slowly approaches, sniffs, backs way and gives the little girl a look like, “Just wait until I get you alone.” The little girl looks right back at the big one as if to say, “Let’s take this outside.”

I believe that, eventually, they’ll all be OK and accepting of one another. We’ll just have to be vigilant until that day comes. Somehow, I’m not surprised that it’s the two females that are having problems co-existing. 

Our veterinarian suggested we immediately rename the new dog, and I’m thinking of calling her “Cosette” (from Les Miserables).  Are there any dog lovers out there who have suggestions for me that might help these two accept each other? My nerves sure could use them.

Carole Townsend is also a Gwinnett Daily Post staff correspondent and author of the recently-released book, “Southern Fried White Trash.” The book takes a humorous look at families and how we behave when thrown together for weddings, funerals and holidays. She has been quoted on msnbc.com, in the LA Times, USA Today and the Christian Science Monitor, been featured on FOX 5 News and CNN, and is often a guest on television and radio shows nationwide. Her next book, “Red Lipstick and Clean Underwear,” is eagerly expected in summer 2012.

Family is the most precious commodity

I think I can honestly say that I never fully appreciated the value of family until very recently, when my own experienced a terrible tragedy and near fatality. My mother died when I was 17 years old, after a three-year battle with leukemia in its most wicked form. Since that awful time, this event has been the second most frightening I can recall. My perspective on life, death and family as a teenager was much different from the one I have now. I’ve lived long enough to get the value of all three.

It’s been both gratifying and uplifting to see how our family has pulled together, each one of us doing something to make the whole thing work for as long as it’s going to have to. Yes, as we’ve each made our own ways with families, careers and children, it can sometimes feel as though we’ve drifted so far apart we could never pull together if we had to.

And then something like this hits, and it’s as though we were all made to do just what we’ve done: mobilize, handle, comfort and yes, even laugh.

I’ve made a pretty good living over the years writing about families and family dynamics. I can poke fun and find humor in the weirdest situations, because families are big, messy, real-life soap operas with an outlandish spin on them, and everybody gets family humor. The comedy never gets old, because families are always going to top the last holiday or reunion or wedding with behavior that turns into stories that will be passed on for generations.

It’s my sincere hope that everybody gets the other good stuff about family, as well. It’s even better than the humor; it’s peace.

Carole Townsend is also a Gwinnett Daily Post staff correspondent and author of the recently-released book, “Southern Fried White Trash.” The book takes a humorous look at families and how we behave when thrown together for weddings, funerals and holidays. She has been quoted on msnbc.com, in the LA Times, USA Today and the Christian Science Monitor, been featured on FOX 5 News and CNN, and is often a guest on television and radio shows nationwide. Her next book, “Red Lipstick and Clean Underwear,” is eagerly expected in summer 2012.

Do your family get-togethers measure up?

Most everyone I know loves this time of year. May brings to a close the long dry spell of cold weather and sparse holidays. This month kicks off a string of celebrations including Mother’s Day, graduation parties, Memorial Day, Father’s Day and July 4^th. Barbecues, vacations, picnics and family get-togethers are the stuff of which family memories are made; scrapbooks everywhere are chock full of snapshots of these happy events.

I tend to be one of those people who idealizes holidays and family get-togethers. I admit it, and it’s not a good way to be. I build these affairs up in my mind, expecting everything from perfect weather to smooth sailing relationship-wise. And when an occasion never quite measures up, I walk away disappointed, befuddled and a bit more jaded (until the next one rolls around, when I fall for it all over again). I can’t help myself; I think there’s a scientific name for my condition, but it escapes me right now.

I often address this very topic when I write - in fact, my first book examined wildly derailed clan festivities – and I’ve found over the years that most people can totally relate to what I’m saying. I’ve also seen my theory borne out again and again in my life and in others’:  When the occasion is one that involves family, chaos and craziness are givens, almost necessary ingredients. In fact, this is such a common phenomenon that I actually asked a family counselor here in Gwinnett why that is.

His answer made perfect sense. He said, “When we move out of our parents’ house and make our own families, then all get back together for any occasion, we revert right back to yesteryear when we were kids. Old jealousies and rivalries rekindle; we all tell stories about each other from the old days, and for good measure, there’s usually some kind of alcohol thrown into the mix. Of course we get detonation; it’s a pressure cooker just waiting to explode.”

I’ve talked with literally hundreds of people who’ve shared their wacky family get-together stories with me over the years. Many of the stories end with relatives storming out and vowing never to speak to so-and-so ever again. Still others draw to a close with a distant aunt or grandma running from the room, sobbing. Some end up in the local hospital emergency room, and still others come to a close with a visit from the cops. In any case, I fully understand why there’s such a steady need for therapists for adults in their 30s and up. It takes about that long for us to get that our families, while we love them, are the reason we turn out like we do. A therapist can talk us through all the stuff that made us crazy in the first place, hopefully realizing after several sessions that we’re not alone. I don’t know why, but there’s comfort in that.

Here’s my sincerest wish for you and your family to thoroughly enjoy every celebration that’s coming this summer. After all, while our families may make us crazy, they also love us. They get the inside jokes and while they may tease us mercilessly, they’re also the first to have our backs when it matters.

And if that didn’t make you feel better, relax in the knowledge that you’re not alone in feeling that unsettling fluttering in the pit of your stomach at the mention of another family cookout.

Does your family drive you crazy at get-togethers, or is yours the exception?

Carole Townsend is also a Gwinnett Daily Post staff correspondent and author of the recently-released book, “Southern Fried White Trash.” The book takes a humorous look at families and how we behave when thrown together for weddings, funerals and holidays. She has been quoted on msnbc.com, in the LA Times, USA Today and the Christian Science Monitor, been featured on FOX 5 News and CNN, and is often a guest on television and radio shows nationwide. Her next book, “Red Lipstick and Clean Underwear,” is eagerly expected in summer 2012.

On the Road Again

My husband and I just returned from a week-long jaunt through much of Tennessee, spending most of our time in Memphis. I was blessed to have several television appearances and book signings up there, and trips like that are always so much fun. This one was no different, and we were doubly blessed to be able to spend some time with much-loved family while we were there.

One of the most entertaining features of road travel is the stops along the way, in my opinion. People fascinate me, and people-watching is one of my favorite pastimes during these stops. Most of the humor in my writing is about everyday people and the everyday funny stuff we do, whether we know we’re doing it or not.

On the drive back home, we stopped at a giant new Love’s convenience store/gas station/truck stop. Talk about a great place to watch people. Love’s has a great reputation for having clean restrooms, so when we find one, we stop. Gas station restrooms are among my Top 3 Nightmare Scenarios, as some of you may already know.

Anyway, this Love’s did not disappoint. As I hobbled on my crutches from the front of the shiny new store to the back (where the restrooms are) I felt supremely confident that I’d find clean, roomy accommodations.  Along the way, I was both amused and surprised by the merchandise that I saw for sale. There were flat-screen TVs. Yes, TVs. In a gas station. Now who goes to the gas station prepared to make such a purchase?

Of course, there were the standard baseball caps, but many of them were bedazzled with rhinestones, and even some with lights and sound. There was a whole aisle of cell phones and accessories.  On the other side of that same aisle, there were deer hunting accessories (is that what they’re called?), beer-logo’ed tee shirts and the requisite shot glasses with naked lady silhouettes on them. I think those designate club membership, like belonging to the Bloods or Crips, but just here in the South. Every gas station along I-40 has them.

Without a doubt, my favorite merchandise display was a locked glass cabinet with diamond (OK probably cubic zirconia) rings, ready-made for popping the question if that thought occurred to you on the way to the restroom. Engagement rings for sale in a gas station. There are so many takes on that concept that I feel sure I could write an entire book off that fact alone.

Now I know you’re dying to know what was for sale right alongside the sparkling rings, so I’ll go ahead and tell you. Ready?   Pork rinds (twenty-plus varieties) and Elvis bobble-head figurines. On my mother’s grave, it’s true.

Only in the South, right?

Carole Townsend is also a Gwinnett Daily Post staff correspondent and author of the recently-released book, “Southern Fried White Trash.” The book takes a humorous look at families and how we behave when thrown together for weddings, funerals and holidays. She has been quoted on msnbc.com, in the LA Times, USA Today and the Christian Science Monitor, been featured on FOX 5 News and CNN, and is often a guest on television and radio shows nationwide. Her next book, “Red Lipstick and Clean Underwear,” is eagerly expected in summer 2012.

Out of the Mouths of Southerners

I just finished up an interview with a major radio station here in Atlanta (O.K. it was B 98.5 – very exciting!), and one of the topics on which we touched was Southerners and the stuff we say. I love living in the South and always have; we are such a colorful, often genteel, sometimes raucous bunch. Although I was born here and grew up down in Doraville, I have lived in other regions of the U.S. and believe me, we have them beat. I’ll never live anywhere else as long as I have a choice.

At any rate, we were laughing in the interview at the colorful way we Southerners have of expressing ourselves, of getting a point across. Once we say something, there’s little chance of the point being misunderstood or forgotten. I’ve heard our way of speaking referred to as “y’allbonics,” which I find amusing.

“Sam Hill,” as in, "What in the Sam Hill are you doing?" – While there are a lot of stories floating around about  who Sam Hill was (a politician from Connecticut, a champion of the Pacific railroad, and more) , this phrase seems to simply boil down to “what on earth,” as in “What on earth are you doing?”

“There’s more than one way to skin a cat” – There’s more than one way to get this accomplished. I’m not sure about the reference to skinning a poor kitty.

“fixing to” – about to, as in “I’m fixing to go skin a cat.”

“up under” – under, as in, “The cat is up under the car.”

“madder than a wet hen” – I’ve never seen a wet hen, but if it’s anything like a wet cat, I get it.

“uglier than a mud fence” – I’ve never seen a mud fence either , but I have to assume they’re ugly.

“Drunker than Cooter (or Cootie Brown)” – Cooter Brown supposedly lived on the line which divided the North and South during the Civil War, making him eligible for military draft by either side. He had family on both sides, so he didn’t want to be drafted. Legend has it he got drunk and stayed drunk for the duration of the war so that he would be deemed useless for military purposes. I guess Canada was out of the question.

“Get on the stick” – Hurry up and get started.

“Gimme some sugar” – Give me a kiss.

Oh, and one more thing I have to add:  When you grow up here, every soft drink, no matter the brand or color, is referred to as a “Coke.” Older folks use the term, “Co-Cola.” My dad does, anyway.

Where else can people get their points across with such flourish? What a great place to live.

 

Carole Townsend is also a Gwinnett Daily Post staff correspondent and author of the recently-released book, “Southern Fried White Trash.” The book takes a humorous look at families and how we behave when thrown together for weddings, funerals and holidays. She has been quoted on msnbc.com, in the LA Times, USA Today and the Christian Science Monitor, been featured on FOX 5 News and CNN, and is often a guest on television and radio shows nationwide. Her next book, “Red Lipstick and Clean Underwear,” is eagerly expected in summer 2012.

I’d like to ask that you indulge me one last time in sharing my knee surgery experience with you, not to be self-serving but to share with you what I’ve discovered. Two weeks into this venture, I’ve learned a few things about acceptance, dependence and humility.

My husband and children have had to do pretty much everything for me since the surgery. I can’t even carry things for myself, because I’m on crutches. I am not even allowed to drive yet. All the attention and chauffering were kind of nice at first, but a few days of not being able to do anything for myself had me stir crazy, frustrated and whiny. 

First thing Monday morning, I endured a two-hour physical therapy session. It’s humiliating to sweat and work just to step on and off a small platform and pedal a specially-made stationary bike, because pedaling a normal stationary bike is beyond my ability just yet.

The piece de resistance is the fact that I had to ride “the scooter” through Kroger yesterday. I felt short and helpless and yes, disabled. I didn’t like it. However, did you know that, as a rule, the bargain items are located on the lower shelves? Check it out next time you’re shopping; you might save a few bucks.

I can tell you a few valuable lessons I’m taking away from this experience. First, I will never again occupy the “handicapped” bathroom stall in a public restroom. It’s more roomy and convenient, but it’s also inconsiderate of those who really need it. Trust me. I know what I’m talking about.

Second, I will demonstrate patience and gladly offer help when I see people in public who are at a physical disadvantage for any reason. I could tell yesterday that I was inconveniencing a few shoppers because my scooter didn’t go fast enough. Some people were actually rude about it. That of course inspired me to gear it down even further, and to back up a lot.

Third, my husband and children are fantastic. But I already knew that.

Carole Townsend is also a Gwinnett Daily Post staff correspondent and author of the recently-released book, “Southern Fried White Trash.” The book takes a humorous look at families and how we behave when thrown together for weddings, funerals and holidays. She has been quoted on msnbc.com, in the LA Times, USA Today and the Christian Science Monitor, been featured on FOX 5 News and CNN, and is often a guest on television and radio shows nationwide. Her next book, “Red Lipstick and Clean Underwear is eagerly expected this summer 2012.