Tuesday, March 29, 2005
Love Bein’ Southern!
Having been a Jenkins for 17 1/2 years this kinda hit a soft spot in my heart and my head!
So for your enjoyment ( thanks to my friend Edna) here is:
Only a Southerner knows the difference between a hissie fit and a conniption fit, and that you don’t “HAVE” them, you “PITCH” them!
Only a Southerner knows how many fish, collard greens, turnip greens, peas, beans, etc., make up “a mess.”
Only a Southerner can show or point out to you the general direction of “yonder.”
Only a Southerner knows exactly how long “directly” is—as in: “Going to town, be back directly.”
Even Southern babies know that “Gimme some sugar” is not a request for the white, granular sweet substance that sits in a pretty little bowl in the middle of the table.
All Southerners know exactly when “by and by” is. They might not use the term, but they know the concept well.
They also know that “just down the road” can be 1 mile or 20.
Only a Southerner both knows and understands the difference between a redneck, a good ol’ boy, and po’white trash.
No true Southerner would ever assume that the car with the flashing turn signal is actually going to make a turn.
A Southerner knows that “fixin” can be used as a noun, a verb, or an adverb.
Only Southerners make friends while standing in lines. We don’t do “queues,” we do “lines”; and when we’re “in line,” we talk to everybody!
Southerners never refer to one person as “ya’ll.”
Southerners know grits come from corn and how to eat them.
Every Southerner knows tomatoes with eggs, bacon, grits, and coffee are perfectly wonderful; that red eye gravy is also a breakfast food; and that fried green tomatoes are NOT a breakfast food.
When you hear someone say, “Well, I caught myself lookin’,” you know you are in the presence of a genuine Southerner!
Only true Southerners say “sweet tea” and “sweet milk.” Sweet tea indicates the need for sugar and lots of it—we do not like our tea unsweetened. “Sweet milk” means you don’t want buttermilk.
A true Southerner knows you don’t scream obscenities at little old ladies who drive 30 MPH on the freeway. You just say, “Bless her heart” and go your own way.
To those of you who’re still a little embarrassed by your Southerness: Take two tent revivals and a dose of sausage gravy and call me in the morning. Bless your heart!
And to those of you who are still having a hard time understanding all this Southern stuff, bless your hearts, I hear they are fixin’ to have classes on Southernness as a second language!
And for those that are not from the South but have lived here for a long time, ya’ll need a sign to hang on ya’lls front porch that reads “I aint from the South but I got here as fast as I could.”
