If you were described as being like something coming off a vine or a tree, what would you be — a Georgia sweet or a gourd?
It takes all kinds. So, whichever heading under which you fall, you're one of many. That's a comforting thought, because no one likes to be lonesome, not even sour apples.
Maybe you're a sweet, mouth-watering cantaloupe rather than a citron. I assume you know what a citron is. It's not a French-made automobile.
If you're a child of hard times and subsistence farming, I know you know what a gourd is Their insides are bitter, in no way resembling the meat of a Georgia sweet melon or a honeydew. The gourd's main claim to fame is its dipper-making qualities, with natural handles for reaching deep into a water bucket. Some use them to make birdhouses. Besides being unfit to eat, they didn't have much in the way of a personality. Remember the term "gourd head?"
Haven't seen a gourd vine on anybody's fence in recent years. Or on the walls of sheds or a trellises around homes of the economically deprived. That's college talk for poor folks. Are you old enough to remember what poor was? If not, perhaps you've heard the old folks talk about hard times back in the '30s. Being poor happened to the best of people, and was very popular at one time. I know it was because so many claimed the title. Being poor must have been very popular with God, too; otherwise He wouldn't have tolerated so many falling into that category. But since He did, we know being poor was in no way disrespectful, in the biblical sense.
For the young people requiring more information on the real meaning of "poor," I'd recommend you turn off the iPods and watch TV news programs a few days. Seems the term is becoming tremendously popular again, what with all the joblessness, mortgage forfeitures and general skullduggery in high places As it was during the not-so-great Depression, there are no favorites — as hard times come knocking on the doors of achievers and part-time loafers with equal fervor. Reminds me of another term associated with rural living: "The chickens have come home to roost."
Stephen Foster wrote a song about it, "Hard Times Come Again No More," but so far, I haven't seen many of the unemployed breaking into song.
People could better tolerate hard times and chickens coming home to roost, if they were more like Georgia sweets rather than common gourds. Emulating white Thompson grapes instead of green persimmons would iron out a few lumps in the road, too. Having a disposition as sweet as nectar from a honeysuckle vine would also be nice. Anything sweet beats bitter weeds any day, anywhere. Peppermint candy comes out far ahead of alum. Ever have to suck on a piece of alum for swollen tonsils?
People with dispositions of common gourds and such could still brighten their surroundings, if they'd just learn to smile. Facial expressions like stone and eyes like ice don't brighten anybody's day. Like air, smiles are free, and their dividends are golden. I'm not saying one should walk around all the time with a frozen politician's smile on their face. To the contrary, a heart-felt smile is a brief, spontaneous act that fades quickly but often leaves an expression of contentment on the faces of the giver and the recipient. A person can jump for joy and break a leg, but I've never heard of a smile breaking anybody's face.
Sure, there are some days when you don't feel like smiling, and for good reason I'm sure; but it still might help fix what's broke, if you'd flash one anyway. I've read it's a good antidote for many ills.
Since a smile is good for all personality types, in fair weather and bad, maybe our national slogan should be, "Smiles are free. Try one." It would at least show we're smarter than things that grow on vines and trees, and it couldn't possibly cause us to mess up things any worse than we already have.
If the saying " We are what we eat" is true, maybe we should eat more Georgia sweets.
