It finally happened. Honea Express has moved to greener pastures, or possibly just out to pasture -- you make the call.

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Please pardon the dust and update your feed readers accordingly. Thank you - Whit

Sunday, July 03, 2005


My town is made up of simple folk- those that voted for Bush and those that didn't vote. We are ignorant and therefore blissful. Our streets are paved with broken dreams and crack cocaine. Everyday we watch as our hopes and desires float further away upon the hot stale breath of an everlasting and imposing breeze.
We watch NASCAR. We drink beer in a can. It's possible that we've never done crack, committed a hate crime or watched 'Cops' to see if we know anyone, but it is highly unlikely. The youth in our area, regardless of ethnic background or economic standing, are increasingly dressing in the popular styles that are so prevalent in today's venues of entertainment; sporting sideways hats, baggy jeans, and waxing the word poetic in a hodge- podge pidgin consisting mainly of repetitive insults and ignorance of basic grammar rules.
The sad part is that I can see the trees from which these apples fell, and they have not fallen far. There is a world out there, different than ours, and it is changing both its status and vision. It is progressive and we chase after it in hopes of placing our dirty crack-covered hands upon its sweet bosom. Yet it eludes us still; taking two steps forward to our every one back. It is hopscotch of the heart. Skipping of the soul. The unobtainable prom queen. It is where we aren't.
Don't come here. Don't visit or send us cards. Abandon every possibility of pity and fall back upon the sure and safe bet: donations. Send money*. That alone offers us any glimpse of beating this calamity. That alone will put a bounce in our collective step. So, make donations and make them fast, and perhaps our escape will happen in your lifetime. Think of the pride that must entail. That there is what we simple folk call some good feelin'.

*No checks please.