There is nothing better than a proper party in which the hostess has thought of the smallest details. Decorations on top of pretty tablecloths, with doo-dahs and frill everywhere. Such was the case on Tuesday night as I attended the annual service club dinner honoring new members. Attendees actually dressed up for the occasion, in respect for the service club to which we all belong.
My little town has the sweetest Community Center. Sitting on the Middle of Main and Center, (the heart of any town), its wooden-framed form speaks of a different time and place. Some would suggest the need for a new and glitzy building like the Senior Center here in town. If this ever becomes a possibility, I’d chain myself to the building in protest. There are some buildings that need to be preserved in their old age. This is one.
It’s not Victorian with frilly gingerbread and lace. Shoe boxed shape, it faces Center, not main. Next to the Mazatlán’s, the Mexican restaurant, parking is limited. I parked in front of Old Town Fix and Spin Automotive and Tires, across the street. Closing the doors for the night, Sam, the owner, was at the dinner along with everyone else. Walking up the stairs, while holding onto the galvanized hand rail, I followed footsteps residents have made since the early 1900’s. How many celebrations and town meetings had been held in this old building over the years?
As with every wooden, high desert building, the paint is faded and peeled. Just a fact of life that makes little towns like mine appear shabby. Paint is the first thing to fade and peel off. Once white with blue trim, the harsh climate changed the color scheme to dingy white with light grey trim. Through the weathered door, as I crossed the threshold, tables in a sea of Red, White, and Blue greeted guests. The flooring, (REAL hardwood, not laminate), was scuffed from years of pointy high heels and crusty cowboy boots. High ceilings and double hung windows helped with desert heat over the years. That night, the air conditioning had died again, and fans blew. The 15′ ceilings helped to capture the heat, while fans did their best to expel it.
Wooden walls were wainscoted. And then, there was the stage. Very old curtains hid whatever lay behind. Not in use during our event, ghosts of entertainment-past lingered. The perfect venue for community shindigs. With over 60 in attendance, everyone was delighted to see old friends and neighbors after sheltering in place for over a year. This was a happy event.
Finding a seat next to the club chaplain, I soon realized how many people I could name. Two county commissioners. A city Councilwoman. The chapter President, whom I consider a personal friend. The Secretary. A high-powered realtor in the area. A few neighbors. Not bad for a recluse like myself. Everyone coifed and put together, even though the heat left us melting and sweltering. Panty hose and high heels being requirements of the past, at least we could all relax a little more. My floral dress and flats were practical and yet stylish.
The table decorations were so country I wanted to do a little jig. Mason jars with the tiniest strands of twinkling lights reminded me of springtime fire flies. An evening of fire flies is still on my bucket list, having never seen one. Burlap runners were topped with red and blue ribbons of varying widths. Star striped red, white, and blue. Everything chosen with function and guests in mind. A professional display of patriotic respect for our country.
Within minutes, the darling, intelligent, and oh so bubbly Miss Ninja Neighbor made her entrance. A new member, she’ll be hosting the Annual Yard Sale in less than a month. I’m offering my RV barn for furniture and larger items. Joining me, it was nice to get caught up. She’s one of the busiest people I know, enjoying her own real estate career. Time spent with her is precious and never dull.
To one side, a large silent auction stretched the length of the room. Country at its best, useful and practical items were up for bid. Boxes of bullets worth a premium. Bottles of Crown Royal. Photographs of cattle. An Invicta Watch. Very special wines in bottles (with corks, not screw tops). Hand made this. One-of-a-kind that. Every item waiting to go home with the highest bidder.
BBQ was the centerpiece of the menu, but you probably figured it would be. From a local company, it was delicious. Rolls, homemade beans, and slaw complimented the Brisket and Chicken.
Outstanding in her courage and strength, it was the guest speaker that stole the show. What a gal! Hard to say those words about many public servants. She’s one of the good ones. Working in the State Legislature, she’s had quite a year. Nevada had a great system for many years. Representatives and Senators met once, every other year, for four short months. During that time, new laws were presented, debated, and voted upon in orderly fashion. Those were the days when things worked properly. Both sides worked to make a better middle for everyone, striving for respectful compromise. Sadly, things have changed.
This young profile in courage wouldn’t accept anymore pointless and controlling demands. In chambers, she defied some restrictive rules and paid a heavy price, being censured because she didn’t obey, in lock step with the rest of the sheeple. This gal can think for herself and doesn’t need anyone to do it for her.
Traveling to Washington, DC, she wanted witness the peaceful transfer of power to our nation’s 46th President. Innocently attending the January 6th rally with her family, she enjoyed the day. Sadly, she’s since been singled out as an attendee of the rally. She and her family were not part of the group who rushed the capital, they merely stood in a crowd at a rally. And yet, she now pays a heavy price.
Her days are now filled with “friendly” and continued visits from the FBI and false public narratives about her character and intentions. All this because she was brave enough to love her state and represent constituents in her tiny county. All this because she visited Washington, DC as regular citizens do every day.
As she spoke, strength, courage, and love of country came across in her message. A plea for peace, patience, awareness, thoughtfulness, and courage were included in her words of hope. She’s a public servant who isn’t typical. I won’t forget her beautiful message and smile any time soon. Prayers for her family’s return to normalcy.
The evening ended with a desert of brownies and cookies.
I left that night feeling my healthy roots growing deeper. This is MY little town. Friendships take time to develop, and mine are growing. Small town friendliness warms the heart and soul. I’m so blessed to have found this dusty, weather beaten wide spot in the road I call home.