While doing online research on poverty in Memphis, this conversation occurred:
CB: "Hey, Mr. Lowe, I'm gonna be gone next Thursday. Should I get my work now or when I get back?"
Me: "Just get it when you come back. Why are you going to be gone?"
CB: "We have to go up to Nashville."
Me: "Oh, really? For what?"
CB (in a thick, Southern drawl): "Well, we have to go up and see a doctor because my dad has a bump on his chest, like right here. They think he might be like my uncle and get boob cancer."
Me: "You mean breast cancer?"
CB: "Yeah, boob cancer, whatever. It's cancer in your boobs."