Cynicism can only exist if there is an absence of ideas, like love.

Thoughts sprint through mind, a number two pencil, onto a green notebook after I lower all four windows and turn off the engine. The air-conditioning cocoon evaporates. Brutal humidity of early September Georgia shows truth. Natural light reflecting off the blue car and white Old Towne Tavern paper cup half-filled with three-hour old sweet tea provides perspective. The line to pick up teenage girls from Lanier High School cheerleading practice is more significant that it seems.

Sugar Hill is as much of a state of mind as it is a place to live. Twitter, Facebook, newssites, talk radio, and this person’s bumper sticker in front of me that reads – “Nobama this time” – and the one behind me that read – “Keep your hands off my goodies, Republicans” make me wonder if moving is a better option.

The little sapphire-eyed blonde in the passenger seat interrupts thoughtful silence.

“Hey Ashley! Hey Lauren! Look daddy, it’s Tay Tay!”

Teenage girls that fill my life with joyous, innocent energy file out of the brick constructed cafeteria that’s connected to the gymnasium where they practice backflips, chants, and clapping in unison. They acknowledge my youngest child with smirks and grins, then their eyes dive back to their iPhones to text their friends. Happiness fills the cab of the car as one daughter excites to see another. My pencil and notebook are shoved under the seat.

I pull out of the parking lot and wind around around orange-coned lanes, then turn left. I arrive sit at a red light next to the large Exxon gas station. Kids that live nearby cross the street and patronize the place so the local supplies of Doritos and vitamin waters can be depleted. In between texts to her friend who is a boy and waves to her buddies across the street, my backseat daughter tells me about her day in one-syllabled words.

Sugar Hill provides, or whatever.

****blogger’s note****

Leeroy is still in the shop. I stole my wife’s computer this morning to write for two prompts – Trifecta Writing’s “absence” http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/ and Write On Edge’s “local items/flavor” http://writeonedge.com/

This really happened. Names were changed because I don’t like getting sued by parents of children that are not mine. I live in a town called Sugar Hill with a high school called Lanier, Hook “Em (Long) Horns!.

Today’s song is something i woke up to today. Happiness comes in small does with me so enjoy this smiley post. Yes, I’m an Oasis fanboi and this is one of their early hits. Here’s the Beatles derivative, but a good one, Whatever:


31 thoughts on “Whatever

  1. Well, I was totally there with you, so great job on the description my friend! I’ve been in a “whatever” mood myself, minus the pre-teen angst and political statements. But hey…whatever. Great post 😉

  2. I haven’t been here in too long! I took a looong break this summer. Anyway, I like the whatever and the vivid description of this post. A lot. And this? “Sugar Hill is as much of a state of mind as it is a place to live.” I can just feel this.

  3. You brought me back to those days of picking up the kids at school and the conversations (or lack thereof) that permeate the car. In the afternoons, I got the one-syllable responses; in the mornings, I got semi-syllable words, aka, grunts and groans! Great piece of writing!

  4. See…now I found car rides the perfect place to “hear” things they were saying. If I was quiet enough, it was almost like I wasn’t even there. Love the real life stuff (which I’ve mentioned before). Love the song. I am an Oasis fan. Could definitely hear the Beatles here! Great post.

  5. Fantastic. You know I’ve always admired how you use details to make your fiction come alive. It’s clear that this is one of your strengths. I could feel myself in the car with you.

  6. trifectawriting

    My own personal Leeroy had his death certificate signed today by the IT guys. If you know of anyone giving away free Macs, please send along my details.

    I really, really enjoy your non-fiction writing. These autobiographical pieces contain enough of you, it seems, to spark that fire and bring out your best. Hope you’ll be bringing more soon. Thanks for linking up.

  7. What a perfect glimpse of your day! It took me back to my own days of high school cheerleading and chatting with my parents (and oh, that’s so long ago!)

    But I might have to disagree with your first line . . . either that or my dad is the world’s biggest paradox . . . so much love, so much cynicism (which he insists on calling realism!)

  8. Reading this reminds me of when I was a kid. Same thing. Except I was a band geek. Well, at least from middle school to 9th grade, when I much preferred bumming rides from undesirables. It’s strange that as a mother for 17 years, I can count on one hand the number of times I have picked up a child from school, and one of those wasn’t even my kid. I must say, I am not complaining.

  9. This was an enchanting moment that you worded well enough that I was able to climb into the car with you and enjoy the chit-chattering of happy moments.

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