|i was not on this road today, but all roads in the garden state lead to hell.|
This afternoon, I made my way to a home in Atco, New Jersey. I knocked at the front door several times and when no one answered, I walked back to my car, figuring that they had forgot about today's appointment. It turned out that the people I was scheduled to see, lived behind this house, in a trailer, next to a rabbit farm. This time, there was a pit-bull as well as potbelly pig to greet me as I made my way to the mobile home. The interior of the house was a cornucopia of hording horrors (dishes on the sofa, Christmas decorations stuffed into cupboards, three televisions stacked on top of each other, clothing piled so high, it blocked out a window...). We ended up holding our meeting outside at a rusty old picnic table where a flea-bit cat decided to use my leg as a place to scratch his back. The gentleman of the house sat and chain-smoked cigarettes down to the filter, and his wife offered me some "warm iced tea" (which I declined). Despite the Deliverance vibe of these people, and the tobacco road living arrangement, I could not help but sort of appreciate the choices of these people (considering it was an actual choice to live in a filthy trailer near a rabbit farm, in someone's backyard and not an unfortunate set of circumstances that landed them here) - the animals, the fresh air, the alfresco dining room. It takes a lot to live life on your own terms no matter what others might think. That said, when my visit was over, I could not wait to get home to my comfortable sofa, large screen TV and running water - I guess I am not as much of a country boy as I'd like to think.