Letter to my Yankee friends.....
Sep 10 '07
The Bottom Line time to take my rig and go giggin' tonight.
...or why "Sweet Home Alabama" is considered a slow song down here.
Y'all constantly ask me what it's like to live in the South. On account of me being raised in Germany and all that.
First of all let me define the word "South". The south does not begin in Illinois. Even if you live within a stone's throw of the Canadian border, the South begins when you cross from East St. Louis into Missouri. About a hundred miles south on HWY 44, you will notice certain changes. Instead of being called Ma'am, you become "Honey", "Sweetie" or "Darlin' ". If you go on a date that doesn't go all that well, but the guy keeps on calling you "Honey", it's no reflection of his commitment to you . Just the way he was raised, is all. If someone should call you "Ma'am", they will do so with typical southern restraint. They simply skip the two middle letters. Instead of "Yes Ma'am", you will hear "YsMm", all one word.
Also don't be too surprised if you think you might have to check your dictionary for the correct spelling of simple words such as "Missouri" and "Soda". Down here it's "Missoura" and "Sodi" (or sometimes "Sodi Pop"). Of course you can always go straight on to Arkansas and simply order a Diet Coke. That should take care of the problem.
While I'm on the subject of sustenance, let's clear up a few misconceptions. People really do eat Grits down here. And there is a correct way to eat them. It just really depends where you are at. A slab of melted butter is almost always correct. It's also very gross, and I haven't eaten Grits yet, but you will find it standard fare on any decent diner menu. If it's not there, chances are the owner is a Yankee. But never spell Grits all in capital letters. If you write GRITS, or even G.R.I.T.S., you are talking about
Girls Raised In The South.
People here do not eat Roadkill. Unless they hit it with their truck on the way to work and were able to tag it quickly. But then it's called "Huntin' ". Huntin' is big around here. There's Coon season, Deer season, Turkey season and , if you so choose, you can also shoot the occasional squirrel or two. If you can't stomach to eat what you shoot, then at least take your kill to the taxidermist so you have something to hang on your wall. Stuffing animals is also big around here. In my little town (population 700), there are four taxidermist and all of them are busy year-round.
One thing you wont' see on many small town menus is the fancy stuff. Escargot, while delicious, are rare to find . But you can always go for frog legs. Alls you have to do is find a few friends, wait for dusk and then go "giggin' ". Now there's a word that's not in any Yankee dictionary. Frog giggin' is a typical southern past time. So is Okie Noodling. One's sticking a spear-like contraption in a frog, so he dies and you can eat him, the other is fishing with bare hands. Considering the snakes and other critters that populate the lakes around here, this is considered a dangerous sport.
Since we're already at the words that end in an apostrophe, let's look at my favorite one: "Muddin' ". No it's not the word "Pudding", pronounced southern style when you have a speech impediment. Muddin' is what you do with your truck after a long hard rain. The dirtier your truck after a day of muddin' the more bragging rights you have.
I can see you still have some problems with this. But really, down here we are courteous, friendly and gracious. If we see you outside we will always give you a friendly wave. Regardless if we know you or not. If you spend half an hour yapping on your cellphone while holding up traffic, we will not honk our horn. We simply go around you. Oncoming traffic will understand that, unless the drivers are Yankees. Don't be scared ,(the word really is "scared", not "a-scared", but it's always "a-feared", not "feared")either of our Pick-up trucks. We actually call them "Rigs" around here. If you think the rig in front of your has a bad problem with a misfiring engine, then you haven't been to the local Autozone lately. Every rig, whether brand-new or 25 years old, needs a trip to the Autoparts store. We quickly replace the factory installed whimpy exhaust system with a much bigger and better one. Unless your exhaust is at least 6 inches in diameter, it doesn't count. So it's not an engine problem, but just a way to let our friends know we're coming. If they can hear us for a mile before we come down the road, they might put the shotgun away and open the door instead.
Guns are a big issue here. I own three. My trusty .22 for huntin' season, a 30/30 sos I can hit the skunks in the barn without missing and a .45 Smith and Wesson . That's great to shoot Armadillos with, or the occasional neighbor. Also gives me something to clean when it's raining. But please don't carry your guns into public buildings. It's okay to have it on you on your next trip to the grocery store, but not when you go to the Courthouse. You can light a cigarette there, but you can't carry your gun.
Most people in the south have long replaced smoking with smokeless tobacco. Down here we call it "Chew". The fancy folk carry it in a round container and it kind a looks like fine cut tobaccy. But the average Billy Bob, still has the pouch from his Pawpaw and it's filled with long strands of rolled tobacco leaves.
You don't know what a Pawpaw is? Where did you grow up? New York City? Oh, I forgot you're a Yankee. You might refer to your Pawpaw as "Grandfather".
Now you might call us "hicks" or "Rednecks", but we don't frown on that. Actually we take being called a Redneck a compliment.
I never understood why Yankees think Jeff Foxworthy is so funny. His "you might be a redneck" lines are just a way to describe our way of life here. He did one that I truly don't understand.
"You might be a Redneck...if your home is mobile and none of the five cars you own are." At least I own five cars, how many do you have? It's like money in the bank, but we don't trust banks all that much. Every time I flip Granma's mattress, I have to take all the money out, because it's too heavy otherwise.
Now I think you understand a little bit of our way of life. And if you come down here as my guest, please don't make comments about the beautiful countryside without keeping one thing in mind. My 200 acres down here are worth about a half a million Dollars. And that's not countin' the trailer. You, on the other hand, have a $1000 a month mortgage and all it gets you is a piddly little city lot somewhere up north.
Down here we also like our music. Pretty much everyone plays an instrument: Fiddle, Banjo and Car keys are the three major ones. Add a bit of toe-tappin' with your trusty ole boots and you have a band. Pretty much every Saturday night you can see us sittin' a spell on the front porch and having an impromptu jam session (bet y'all didn't think I know a word like "jam session"). We're famous for our front porches. Half the living room goes outside in the summer and most of the kitchen. Not a dang thing wrong with setting the microwave on top of the fridge and putting it on the front porch (usually doesn't take more than four or five extension cords to keep the power going). The davenport takes up most of the porch anyway, and that way the kids have a place to sleep at night.
But back to the music. When we have our little family reunions (only nearest relatives, never more than 50 people or so), we like to play the old standards. "Copperhead Road", a lot of Country music (the kids down here learn the words to every Merle Haggard song in first grade) and a few slow ones. Gotta do something for the young people too. After all just because she's your first cousin, doesn't mean you know her well. So that's when we play stuff like "Sweet Home Alabama". It's a great song to slowdance to.
Time to go now. Plumber just called, he'd be a few days late on account that his rig broke down over yonder and he has to wait til tomorrow afore he can get it fixed.
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germank106
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Location: middle of nowhere, MO
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