I went to Wal Mart this afternoon to buy something (a video game, if you must know - Grand Theft Auto 3. Yes, it's as shockingly violent and sexist as some people say. And it's a hoot to play, too. I suggest you give it a try, if you have the means.) and I was smacked in the nose with an almost overwhelming wave of nostalgia and homesickness.

Gosh, I thought, looking around at the mullets and work clothes of the middle class, I really miss my mom.  

Not because my mom has a mullet or anything. She works at the Wal Mart in my home town, which is a pretty nice place in the spring. The town, not the Wal Mart. It's pretty much the same year 'round.

Speaking of the common man - have you ever watched King of the Hill? I can't say enough about what an accurate portrayal of southern working-class suburban life that show is. If you've seen it then you have seen My People.

My favorite character is Cotton Hill, Hank's irascible father. He has tiny little pin-hole eyes surrounded by a web of wrinkles and his shins were blown off in the South Pacific in World War II. He is the walking definition of the term mean old son of a bitch - and a pretty perfect example of that kind of grandpa.

Once he walked in on Hank's wife, Peggy, while she was crying.

"What's the matter, Hank's wife?" he asked, "got your monthlies?"