The Other Side

Today, I had occasion to drive down Williamson Road.

This day was a shopping day. Hopefully my last shopping day for the upcoming holiday. I am not much of a shopper and having to get out amongst the crowds wears on me.

But I was off about 10:30 a.m. this morning. Out of Botetourt, where I try to do my shopping, and into Roanoke.

The major event of my day, I had hoped, was to meet a fellow blogger and purchase a book he'd written after getting it signed for my husband. But that wasn't to happen until after lunch.

First stop, the bank. Next, the gas station. Then on to Dollar General on Williamson Road (Hollins end), where I bought gift boxes for the clothing I've purchased to give away. I don't like to buy wrapping items, because I try to recycle and be conservative in that way, but after not buying new things for several years, it seemed a necessity. Particularly since the items left over from previous years have developed a musty smell that makes me sneeze. I discovered this last night while trying to wrap my husband's presents. I wrapped with my eyes watering, and this morning when I walked by the Christmas tree I could smell the "mustiness". I immediately unwrapped everything and threw the wrapping in the trash. My allergies are atrocious, aren't they?

So gift boxes were a must-have on the buying list today. The store was most obliging and hopefully I have everything I need for hours and hours of wrapping fun.

From the Dollar General, I headed to Sam's. Chewing tobacco for husband was the major purchase here. Then off to Books-A-Million for a large print calendar for my grandmother in the nursing home.

And then it was off to Roanoke Antique Mall for the book signing. I left the mall area and went down Williamson Road all the way to Orange Avenue.

Driving down this old road, stopping at the numerous (and long) stop lights, I realized what an antiseptic life I lead now.

I don't visit places like Williamson Road. Many businesses reside there, but none that I frequent. Oh, sure, I've been in Schewel's Furniture a couple of times, but since Sears left from down there, which was 20 years ago, I don't venture down Williamson Road.

A lot of folks are like me, I think. We go to the grocer and hop on the interstate. Head to the mall, return home.

You don't see what's going on that way. You don't see the unshaven old man doddering along Williamson Road with a shopping cart. The decaying old buildings. The spruced-up buildings where someone is trying to make a go of it. The light slanting off the rooftops.

The Williamson Road Pawn Shop. I haven't been in a pawn shop in 15 years. The bowling alley. The car dealership (I don't shop there, I don't buy Chevrolet). Fire Station 2. The history of a community, growing, falling, coming back up again.

If I lived in that end of town, maybe I would visit more. But I think I would visit more regardless if I wasn't so worried about moving out of my safety zone. I also don't do bars, bowling alleys, tattoo parlors, or other places where I might find cigarette smoke and things that give me the willies.

However, I grew up in that environment, though I don't remember much of it. My father used to take me with him to the bars. He'd sit me on the pinball machines and he and his friends would plunk in quarters while I watched the balls. Supposedly this went on for hours (and today I blame my video game addictions on this).

As a news writer I sometimes visit places that are not my normal element. But I go then as a watcher, not as a participant. It is one thing to write about a game a pool, it is quite another to hold the stick, run it over your finger, and pocket the eight ball.

I drove through Williamson Road, I did not experience it. I could never do that without getting out of the car.