Country Music And Seagulls
March 24th 2005, Tybee Island Georgia.
I had just stepped onto the balcony of my room overlooking the ocean to watch the sunrise. The air was warm and the seas were calm. A scattering of people walked about the shoreline finding and fancying objects washed in from last night’s high tide. However the peacefulness of the morning lay broken now, like the tiny shards of mirror that has been violently hurled to the ground. The sounds of the gentle ocean were usurped by a drunken revelry in the room next door. With the walls thin, and balconies open (though private in the sense one cannot see those beside you.) it still does little in the way of stopping the penetrating sounds of a wayward life from escaping ones ears: no matter how much one tries to tune out such contrivances as these, there is sometimes no escape other than confronting the offending party and attempt to reason with them. However, time has taught me that when some people reach the level of intoxication that causes their hearing to go bad and their tongue to grow thick, that this is not the best times for reasoning to take place. Now don’t get me wrong, while I have no problem with country music being played at six thirty in the morning, I do however find displeasure with its volume approaching eighty decibels. Even worse is the guttural language attempting to talk above the morning concert.
You may have noticed that I referred to this as a wayward life, well that is indeed the way I sensed this moment, for the woman, old or young I do not know, but of the approximate age to have young children, and I say that merely to point out and lead up to the sadness I felt in this situation. This sadness came crashing down over me like the waves of the ocean crashing over the privacy wall on my hotel balcony. I soon became all too aware of a phone conversation that was taking place. (Not eavesdropping mind you, I just could not help hearing her shout over the music) this was a cell phone conversation between a mother and a child, a conversation that sent this morning documentation into motion. The conversation went something like this, and though I could not hear the remarks on the other end of the line, they were painfully obvious.
Lady on the balcony,“Good morning baby, mommy misses you” then a slight pause…”no baby, I’m not coming home just yet, I have some things that I need to do” another pause…”what’s that baby, Mommy didn’t hear you”…(Ray, will you turn down that F#*#*#. music and bring me another beer? Sure hon. interjects a previously unheard male companions voice, “yeah, no problem… just as soon as you…#&*# my…”
This went on and on for the complete duration of the suns rise, with the conversation between mother and child ending on the note of “oh baby, don’t cry now…I will be back to get you as soon as I can” pause…then long silence…”no baby, I don’t love your daddy no more, though I know he loves me,,,you see baby, mommy aint getting any younger, and…well Ray here…well he makes me feel that way. Well baby, mommy has to go now…I love you.”
The silence now on the other end with the exception of the concert renewing in vigor seemed almost deafening. Oh it is so sad, when love goes wrong, or values misplaced. It is so sad when children are involved and their little lives are shattered. Children in situations such as these, start out in life with strikes already against them. While it is true , that I do not know both sides of the story, and that there may be factors that played in on the demise of this bond between man, woman and child. It became all to apparent to me this beautiful morning that one mother was not handling the situation in the best of ways, and from all appearances, seemed to be off on a drunken fling…”Oh want you play me some mountain music, like my grandpa and grandma used to do…”
“Give me another beer will ya Ray…these D**** seagulls are starting to give me a headache.
J. Allen Wilson © 2005 Tybee Island, GA. 3-24-05
- Understand, it is not the country music, or even the group Alabama that I found displeasure with, for I have a deep appreciation for all musical endeavors. It is just the fact that no consideration for others was applied in this situation by the fact that they played it so loud without regard.