Just Another Methadone Monday

Relections on everyday life in the rural South, ya’ll.

The guy, behind the guy, behind the guy, behind me, was riding that last guy’s a*s way too close. I could see him in my rearview in a beat up maroon colored Jimmy ghosting a heartbeat behind that last car. A single yellowed headlight put the finishing touches on what might have been a scene out of an Alabama version of Mad Max. I had to wonder if the guy driving the beat up maroon Jimmy was wearing black leather chaps, sporting an 8 inch Mohawk, poorly done head-to-foot tattoos, and little else? I mean it IS rural Alabama….. Queue the turbo charged hemi, maniacal laughter, and Free Bird sound track. Damn, it must be Monday.

I glanced up in the rearview again. Another foot or two and the jackass in the maroon Jimmy would technically be in the second seat of the last car. There’s just a few things that can almost instantly get you in trouble in Bama. Being rude, talking smack about the Tide or Tigers, and tailgating are on the short list for causing conflict leading to potential for physical injury.

We “Bamians” tend to enjoy the open fields, farm land, forests, and wet lands of Alabama. That expectation of a little extra personal space carries over into our personal vehicles too. What’s acceptable aggressive bumper-to-bumper driving practices in California is most definitely not acceptable in Alabama. Did I mention, we’re also an enthusiastic right-to-bear arms and protect yourself/your property state too? Tailgate in Bama and you too may reach this higher level of understanding.

Somehow our backroad convoy successfully reached the intersection of 195 and Curry highway and the heavenly smell of Brown’s biscuits wafting through my window. As expected, different rules apply to Mr. Maroon Jimmy. He suddenly whipped left in an attempt to bypass law abiding citizens stopped at the red light by cutting through the parking area of the opposing 24hr Jiffy Mart/Quik Sac/Dew Drop In. Too late!!! The light changed and traffic surged past the now hyper frustrated driver. I let just a whisper of a smile pass, think karma is a ruthless ruler, and wonder what, pray tell, has Mr. Maroon Jimmy in such a frenzied hurry that he’s enthusiastically willing to violate rules for socially acceptable southern driving? Relegated to back of the line, Mr. Maroon Jimmy resumes tailgating antics with the last car in a long line traversing the airport road cutoff. As it turned out, I wouldn’t have to wait long for my answer.

According to Leada Gore in the 3 May 2018 issue of AL.com: “The Alabama county with the worst drug problem was/is Walker County. From 2012-2016, there were 160 drug-related deaths in Walker County, population 65,593. Analysts found 47.5 drug deaths annually per 100,000 residents in Walker County, as compared to just 16 per 100,000 in the state. Only four counties posted higher annual drug deaths: McDowell County, West Virginia (88.9 annual drug deaths per 100,000 residents); Floyd County, Kentucky (68); Rio Arriba County, New Mexico (60.2); and Dickenson County, Virginia (51.5.)“ Black tar heroin originating in Mexico is the Walker County addict’s drug de jure.

A few miles down Airport road Mr. Maroon Jimmy unglues himself from the tailgate of the last vehicle and exits the busy two lane highway, at speed, sailing out across the gravel parking lot and into the Walker Area Recovery Center drug treatment facility. Doors on the Jimmy pop open quicker than a can of Pillsbury Country Fresh biscuits banged against a counter edge. Ah, and now the reason behind Mr. Maroon Jimmy's behavior is obvious.

Queue the Bangles, and the last thought I have of Mr. Maroon Jimmy as I fade into the work-a-day distance is: “It’s just another methadone Monday. I wish it was Sunday, 'Cause that's my fun day, My I don't have to run day, It's just another methadone Monday…..”

Michael "Dutch" Dyer