He's a Kennesaw Boy?

What exactly does that mean though? I was born and raised in Kennesaw, Georgia. Not too far from here in Marietta, I still expect at least some (if not most) of the people in our class may not have heard of it. Hell, we haven't even made it onto the weather map on the Channel 12 news yet. But that's besides the point.
From what I've heard, the assumptions associated with Kennesaw are usually humorous. First off, many people poke fun at our “Every household must own a gun” law. Mostly it's attributed to the fact that people in Kennesaw are exceptionally redneck (which we here in the south know isn't true). But whenever I talk to someone about Kennesaw they laugh and ask me “What, do they require guns so you guys can keep the blacks off your property?” That usually makes me chuckle too, but also brings us to the next assumption. Most people in Kennesaw are very racist. This is also a general southern assumption of course, but from stories I've heard from the black friends of mine, it especially holds true for Kennesaw because of our police department. I've known people get pulled over for going 3 mph over the speed limit, a friend got a ticket because his “window” tint was too dark, another black friend of mine got pulled over for speeding and the first question he got asked was “Is this your vehicle, boy?” And speaking of “boy,” people in Kennesaw are also noted for having a noticeably more Southern, Southern drawl. Which is often true, I'm afraid to say.
Anyway, the main question is do all these attribute themselves to me? Has Kennesaw left a mark on me that can't be removed? Of course it has, but not in any of these ways. To start, my household doesn't own any guns. (Just don't tell the feds!) Though we really ought to at least get a BB gun, our house has a major squirrel problem. I've only ever even shot a gun while I was in Boy Scouts, and even then we were shooting black powder rifles, which I would hardly count. Secondly, I have numerous black friends, and I am certainly not racist. Though Kennesaw has awakened me to the racist jokes, which are quite funny just because of how untrue they are. I'll make those jokes occasionally just with close friends who don't take me seriously. Nonetheless, that is a mark from Kennesaw that I can't remove. I have a tendency to take racism a tad too lightly, even when it is serious. Lastly, Kennesaw has not affected my accent. Perhaps my dialogue, yes. But I still sound like a northerner according to new people I meet. It's even made me a few friends! At orientation for this school, a guy in my group came up and started chatting with me, and he said it was because “I seemed cool, and didn't have a southern drawl like the rest of the kids.” Though there is an obvious reason. Both sides of my family were from Italy and Germany, and emigrated to Queens, New York to open businesses. My parents were both born there, and then went temporarily to the University of Arizona where they met. Then moved to Georgia right after. So I was raised in a northerner household essentially.
But enough about my family history. Kennesaw has definitely left marks on me regarding words I use and the ways I think, but none of the stereotypes regarding it really fit me. However, it will always be my home.

~Mark Fredricks

First Blog Assignment

I took my sight-seeing trip to the Avenues in Kennesaw, a shopping center near where I live. (Maybe you've heard of it, but probably not). I left my house around 5:30 PM, and still a great deal of light falls on everything. Finding parking is always a pain, but I ended up stopping near the Gamestop I usually park next to. As I get out of the car, I see what I expect, a whole bunch of cars crowding the parking lot. Big surprise for a shopping center, eh? Anyway, I go to the sidewalk, wearing my black Apt. 9 jacket and Ozzy Ozbourne shades, and begin to stroll. The first thing I see on my left is a man listening to his iPod touch, while texting to a friend on his phone. At least, I thought he was texting, however upon further inspection I notice that he is talking to a friend on speakerphone while browsing movie times on his 3G network. Just goes to show that we miss a great deal because we only perceive things on our own scale, I didn't even think that's what he might have been doing when I first looked at him, because I can't do that on my phone. It's foreign to me, and I didn't recognize it at first.

It takes me a few moments to process all this information, but I lose interest and start to feel creepy about staring at the man with his phone and move on. The next spectacle I walk past is 3 girls playing by a fountain. One sits on the ring around the fountain with a camera, and the other two pose on a bench. Didn't take me long to realize they were taking pictures. However I mistakenly walked in front of them while the picture was about to be snapped, and I see the girl with the camera drop it from her eyes in annoyance. I walk by innocently, but not before I see the distaste in the eyes of the other two. But, even if I can't see these minutiae, I still try to keep my eyes open. Usually I'm not interested in the glares of teenage girls, but since my mission was to go out and “see,” I had to glare back. All in the name of discovery, of course.

As I keep going, the amount of people decreases, and it becomes easier to notice the stores. I wonder why the amount of people is decreasing though? I look back out to the parking lot and see more and more cars driving away. But why? Then, I take off my shades and notice that the sky is beginning to darken. Laughing at myself for taking so long to notice, I realize it's all a matter of keeping my eyes open.

The last interesting event I pass by on my journey is a group of 3 middle school aged girls and a young boy. As I walk towards them, they keep glancing in my direction, and when I finally get come close the group scatters, leaving one timid girl still in my path. I reel in confusion, I don't understand what I see. In a shaky voice, the girl says “Hello” to me. Smiling, I say hello back, and continue on my way. Chuckling to myself, I realize her friends must have put her up to it. I hadn't realized until that moment that I must have looked a bit frightening with my hair, black jacket, and shades. It was like I had been my whole life a bell, and never knew it until that moment I was lifted and struck. It was then that I felt envious of one-celled animals, because the sense impressions of one-celled animals are not edited for the brain: “This is philosophically interesting in a rather mournful way, since it means that only the simplest animals perceive the universe as it is.” A guy can't wear the clothes he wants without scaring little kids these days. It's really a shame, because I'm a nice guy when you get to know me.

As I walk back to my car, I reflect on the happenings I've come across during this hour expedition, and smile. What an interesting place the world can be, if people would only stop to notice.

~Mark Fredricks

(Bold- Quotes by Dillard)

Falling into Madness. Day 1: 16:04 PM

Hello!