« It's That Time of Year Again| Main | Now That's Flying! »
The Wave
I live in a rural area. There's really not a lot around here, the property is loosely zoned and most of the land doesn't have restrictions. Add to this the fact that we live out from the city, and our surroundings are, say, eclectic at best.
We have all sorts of people out here: a little ways down the road a retired Oracle employee is creating his own vineyard on a several hundred acre farm. Next door, there's a lady who raises wolves. Down the street there are a couple of million-dollar homes, and nearby there are a lot of poor families living in substandard housing.
I've worked all over the United States, from Georgetown in DC to Austin, Texas to San Francisco. So why the heck do I like it here?
It's a good question, and I've thought about it a lot. One thing stands out in my mind: The Wave.
I always know I'm getting close to home when I get The Wave. Usually the first one will catch me by surprise -- all week I've been in the city, one faceless person among millions. Turning a corner on the way to my house, I'll pass a SUV, or a sports car, and see the tell-tale fingers sticking up from the steering wheel and the smile. Sometimes kids in the backseat will do the big "Hey There!" wave. Sometimes it's just a nod, but most of the time it's a full wave.
As I get closer to home, the waves increase. Within a mile or two, I wave at people in their houses, working on their cars, talking to their friends, going to their churches. They always wave back. Even the coolest teenager, with the baggy pants and the bad attitude bee-bopping or slinking down the street, will give a wave, only a little sheepishly, a sly knowing smile crossing their lips.
I remember when I drove to Washington DC every week I passed a man just south of Charlottesville on US 29 during each trip. He was a big black fellow, a little overweight, and always smiling. He would stand in the middle of the road and wave and smile at the cars going by. Every day. Sometimes he would point and grin, or laugh.
At first I thought there was something wrong with this guy. Who would stand in the middle of the road and wave at strangers? And for all I know, perhaps there was. But the more I thought about it, the more I saw the wisdom in it. Life is too short to meet the millions of people in the world. What a great way to spread happiness and kindness: a simple wave. I think sometimes that if I were God I would be that guy; standing in the middle of the median, happy as a lark, just waving away at all of the people I love.
There are little subsets of the wave. I've learned that there is a Jeep wave. When I'm driving my Jeep the wave carries much farther from my home. Not those big, fancy SUV Jeeps -- the real ones with winches, soft tops, and gasoline cans on the back. I'm not sure those other vehicles really ARE jeeps, but some people have strange tastes. We Jeep drivers will wave at each other even in far away cities. We're members of a herd, a clan. Occasionally a Jeep or two will miss a wave, but 9 times out of 10 within 100 miles Jeep drivers wave at each other.
Waving gives a feeling of family, of familiarity. I always hear about how bad the south is -- I guess we're all supposed to be poor, uneducated, bigots, inbred, etc. Indeed, many times when I'm working in some far away city they tease me a bit from being from the south. I make it a point to hide my accent when I travel: the same diction I might have used for my grandmother is not welcome in the boardroom. I guess I've stayed in some pretty nice digs over the years: an apartment overlooking San Francisco Bay, a luxury home in Connecticut, an extremely expensive hotel in the middle of Washington, DC, but I like it here a little better.
All those other places were great, don't get me wrong. I'm sure one day I'll move. After all, nobody stays in the same place forever, right? But for now, with my wife and kids, I like it here. And the biggest reason I can think of is The Wave.
I really enjoyed reading this post. You are right, the wave is a big reason to live here in the middle of nowhere. I remember when you picked out this land full of trees on a gravel road and my parents were like...you are going to get so tired of the dirt road...and what about bad weather and what about the neighbors. Just like anywhere we have good and bad neighbors, but even the bad ones wave and put a little cheer in the day by reaching out...one human to another.