Paranoia

A couple of days ago, a windstorm knocked one of my trees down. Unfortunately, part of it fell in a neighbor's yard. Not much, just a few feet over the boundary line. In a normal world, I'd have just gone out and moved it. Unfortunately, I don't live in a normal world, I live in Appalachia. This particular neighbor has a German Shepard which he lets run free and uses his position in the local law enforcement community to bully others. In that situation, I just left the tree there until I happened to have company, so that I could have witnesses to anything that transpired. That got me thinking how totally horrible life in Appalachia is. Imagine, feeling that you need that level or paranoia in order to survive. It's a lot worse when I need to deal with my welfare king/drug dealer neighbors.

I'm not the only one who feels this of course. I just seem to be the only one who will put it to words and admit it. When I first moved here, I noticed a look in everyone's eyes. They weren't a look that I'd ever seen in an American's eyes before. I'd seen that look before in East Europeans right after communism fell. That look that said they lived in constant fear. Fortunately for the East Europeans, that look seems to have vanished from their countenances. Unfortunately, that look is alive and well in Appalachia.