Sad Faces

When I'd speak with folks by phone in Mississippi, they would call me 'Ms. Sylvia,' and we'd chat about life. In Mississippi, when I'd cross the parking lot at Wal-Mart, the men would nod, and the carry-out boys say, "Yes, ma'am."

As I'd go through the Mississippi check-out, the girls would hug me and the manager would ask, "How y'all doin'?"and sometimes even add, "Ya doing awright, darlin'?"

It makes me really sad when some of the folks here appear to be so entirely bored with life that I am seriously afraid that they will drop down dead behind the check-out counter. Or that they will fall asleep from dreariness on the other end of the telephone.

I keep waiting for them to lift their heads up, look alive, and say, "hey," and they don't.

What makes people that way? Is life that bad? Was it like that five years ago, when we lived here? Have things changed? ...Have I changed?

Will I look stupid and countrified if I don't act disinterested and never smile?

It makes me want to cry for the sad, rich people of Michigan even more than the happy, poor folks of Mississippi.