Sunday, January 27, 2013
'KAR-RAK-TERS''
I have lived much of my life in small Southern towns. While small towns do not have a monopoly on 'kar-rak-ters', they have an abundance of the breed. So, what makes someone a 'kar-rak-ter' which is not the same thing necessarily as a 'character' ?
A dictionary definition can be at least partially helpful. For the latter, I found this: 'the peculiar quality or set of qualities by which a person is distinguished from others'. Helpful, but lacking. For the former , this seems apropos: 'A unique or extraordinary individuality; a person characterized by peculiar or notable traits'.
As I reflected on some of those unique kar-rak-ters' I have known (and know), here are some descriptions that seem to fit:
.an original
.eccentric
.someone not overly concerned with public opinion
.some degree of endearment
.someone who 'marches to a different drummer'
.a non-conformist with enough self-confidence not to care about 'what others may think'
.occasionally, though hardly necessarily, with limited cognitive endowment,
.someone with 'rough edges'; not 'homogenized'
.one who speaks his/her mind without 'measuring words'
These (often) dear souls are frequently remembered long after their deaths in ways that upstanding, so-called prominent persons are not.
Garrison Keillor's Lake Wobegone seems to be populated exclusively by 'kar-rak-ters'. Likewise, Ferrol Sams's books and short-stories portray the antics and 'carryings-on' of not necessarily fictional folks. 'Real life' also provides them in abundance. A local barber shop (not salon) often serves as a gathering place for these folks, as does what in local parlance is known as 'the beauty parlor'. Age and gender do not seem to be primary determinants, either.
My wife remembered when as a young newcomer to this town, she was checking out of a local 'mom and pop' grocery store and the man in line in front of her left his coat on the counter as he was leaving. Coat in hand, she pursued him down the sidewalk and when she gave him the 'forgotten' item, he calmly noted, "I always leave my coat in there." (That was later determined to be true.)
A local businessman (whose son, 'Junior', still practices law in our town) was notorious for his reckless driving and frequent accidents. One day he had a fender-bender with the mail carrier and immediately owned responsibility. The mail carrier demurred, "No. It's my fault. I knew you were out here and I drove anyway."
Niza lived his entire life in a near-by mill village. (Like other Southern cotton mill towns, the mill and its culture have largely vanished.) While 'cognitively challenged' , he nonetheless managed an adequate degree of functioning. With an occasional taste for illegal whiskey, Niza also wore a long overcoat regardless of the season. One night he went to my uncle's barbershop. Getting a haircut was a 'Revenuer', someone responsible for tracking and destroying liquor stills and arresting those who bought and sold the product. Someone jokingly told the agent that he should frisk Niza. Everyone laughed and the conversation soon shifted. When the man had left, Niza opened his coat, revealing a bottle of moonshine, and muttered to the group, "Don't you ever do that again."
Milo died a few months ago. The locals have begun a 'Milo Festival', showing old Grade B western movies and bringing 'cowboys' to town, as a way of remembering this gentle man of good will who regularly showed 'cowboy movies' at his home, as well as entertaining nursing home residents with his harmonica renditions. Little details such as wardrobe coordination, neatness, and such niceties were not, apparently, among his priorities.
I think 'kar-rak-ters' are not as abundant as they once were. Maybe there are too many pressures for conformity. Whatever the reason(s) for the declining number, I think we need them...for lots of reasons. They are 'spices' in otherwise bland foods of conventionality. Like actual spices, though, they are best appreciated in a balanced quantity and application. Within each one of us, there is likely a 'kar-rak-ter' wishing for his/her opportunity to live.
(In preparing this entry, I have been immensely helped by one of the kindest, most endearing 'kar-rak-ters' I know. However, I donot hold my wife responsible for anything written here.)
Satchel
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This reminds me of all of the wonderful people that populate the town of Mitford, which sounds just as delightful as your town!
ReplyDeletePermission to share this post with my sister?
ReplyDelete~RisingSong
No permission needed. They are 'in cyberspace'.
DeleteThanks :)
DeleteYep, I know a few Kar rak ters. They make life exciting. Enjoyed reading. Michael
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