When I was a kid, I loved shopping for new school supplies. It was the best part of going back to school in August. I made good grades, but generally didn’t like going to school all that much, other than enjoying math and English, writing, reading interesting books (and going to basketball games).
But, sorting through big notebooks and colorful folders and dividers, crayons and new pencils and pens, composition books and paper and organizing them all was a joy, not a chore. Even though I’m way, way, way past my school days, I like to write down thoughts and lists and quotes, so buying myself a brand-new, good-quality, refillable fountain pen is still one of life’s simple pleasures.
My daughter and I took a quick overnight trip last week to Wrightsville Beach…my first time there. I basically go to see and listen to the waves and birds, to take a nighttime walk along the ocean’s edge as the incoming tide wraps around my bare feet, eat some seafood, and just see more of my own home state. The motel was quite nice, the waiter in the motel restaurant at supper funny in an appreciated sarcastic way, and lunch at the Oceanic Restaurant at the Crystal Pier very tasty (including my summertime favorite Key lime pie), with a beautiful ocean view. This fair-skinned mountain native isn’t a big fan of sand or baking in the (very!) hot sun, even with an umbrella, or crowds, but seeing the water and hearing the waves was peaceful and lovely, and being there on a September weekday meant fewer people.
When I was a kid and my parents and I would go to the beach (usually Myrtle Beach), I would be so excited for that first glimpse of the magical Atlantic, almost like a Christmas morning feeling. I don’t feel that exact excitement at the beach anymore, and that makes me a little sad, but it’s still a wondrous natural thing, and like my daughter commented on our night walk, it seems kind of lonely in a way – I know what she means – and thinking back to travelers a long time ago coming here in ships to a new but unknown life, it must have seemed a little scary. I get that same sense of a kind of loneliness when I hear a distant train whistle. Anyway, it was a bit of a whirlwind trip, but a fun getaway as summer starts to wind down a little bit.
When I was a little kid up in the mountains of western North Carolina, we got just a couple of TV channels. One of them was out of Knoxville. Every weekend my parents and I faithfully watched the likes of Arthur Smith, Bonnie Lou and Buster, and Flatt and Scruggs, but my favorite was always the Porter Wagoner show. That is, of course, where we first learned the name Dolly Parton. We were enthralled by her talent at such a young age, but we had no idea then what a huge legend she would become around the world…not just for singing and songwriting and acting, but for her philanthropy, her books given to children, her inclusivity and kindness, her humor. I admire the fact she never forgot her roots, where she came from over in East Tennessee. One of my favorite movies ever is Steel Magnolias. My daughter and I quote the characters, including Truvy (Dolly) more often than we probably should.
It was with great sadness that people everywhere learned of Dolly’s passing this week. I can’t really picture a world without Dolly Parton in it. Rest in sweet peace.
