Gut Rumbles
 

April 03, 2005

being southern

1. That farm boy you see at the gas station did more work before breakfast than you do all week at the gym.

2. It's called a "gravel road." No matter how slow you drive, you're going to get dust on your Lexus. Drive it or get it out of the way!

3. The red dirt -- it's called clay. Red clay. If you like the color, don't wash your car for a couple weeks -- it'll be permanent.

4. We all started hunting and fishing when we were seven years old. Yeah, we saw that Bambi movie, too. We got over it.

5. Go ahead and bring your $600 Orvis fly rod. Don't cry to us if a flathead breaks it off at the handle. We have a name for that little 13-inch trout you fish for: bait.

6. Pull your pants up! You look like an idiot.

7. If that cell phone rings while a bunch of mallard ducks is making their final approach, we will shoot it. You might want to ensure it's not up to your ear at the time.

8. No, there's no "Vegetarian Special" on the menu. Order steak. Order it rare. Or, you can order the Chef's Salad and pick off the two pounds of ham and turkey.

9. Tea? -- yeah, we have tea. It comes in a glass over ice and it's sweet. You want it hot? Set it in the sun. You want it unsweetened? Add a lot of water.

10. You bring Coke into my house, it better be brown, wet, and served over ice!

11. You have a sixty-thousand-dollar SUV. We're real impressed. We have a quarter of a million-dollar combine that we only use two weeks a year.

12. Let's get this straight. We have one stoplight in town. We stop when it's red. We may even stop when it's yellow.

13. We eat dinner together with our families. We pray before we eat--yeah, even breakfast. We go to church on Wednesdays and Sundays, and we go to high school football games on Friday nights. We still address our seniors with "yes, sir" and "yes, ma'am," and we sometimes still take Sunday drives around town to see friends and neighbors.

14. We don't do "hurry up" well.

15. Greens -- yeah, we have greens, but you don't putt on them. You boil them with salty fatback, bacon or a smoked hog jowl.

16. Yeah, we eat catfish, bass, bream, and carp. You really want sushi and caviar? It's available down at the bait shop.

17. They are pigs. That's what they smell like. Get over it. Don't like it? Interstate 75 goes two ways. Interstate 40 goes the other two. Pick one.

18. Grits are corn. You put butter, salt, and maybe even some pepper on them. If you want to put m! ilk and sugar on them, then you want cream of wheat -- go to Kansas. That would be I-40 West.

19. The "Opener" refers to the first day of deer season or dove season. Both are holidays. You can get pancakes, cane syrup, and sausage before daylight at the church on either day.

20. So every person in every pickup truck waves? Yeah, it's called being friendly. Understand the concept?

21. Yeah, we have golf courses. Don't hit in the water hazards. It spooks the fish and bothers the gators --and, if you hit it in the rough, we have these things called diamondbacks, and they're not baseball players.

22. That Highway Patrol Officer that just pulled you over for driving like an idiot --his name is "Sir," no matter how young he is.

23. We have lots of pine trees. They have sap. It drips from them. You park your Lexus under them, and they'll leave a souvenir on your hood.

24. You burn an American flag in our state, you get beat up. No questions. The liberal contingent of our state legislature -- all four of them --enacted a measure to stop this. There is now a $2.50 fine for beating up the flag burner.

American by Birth, Southern by the Grace of God

(Thanks to chronwatch for the link.)

Comments

10. You bring Coke into my house, it better be brown, wet, and served over ice!

And "Coke" can mean any one of the "soft drinks." Including Pepsi.

18. Grits are corn.

I dated a girl from Way Up North who had no idea what grits were.

And they think WE'RE dumb.

Posted by: Adam Lawson on April 3, 2005 03:36 PM

The waving thing kills me.

In the north NO ONE waves at each other unless you live in the country and then it's rare. I lived 34 years without waving at anyone more than a handful of times. the last 3 i've found myself waving at everyone. Of course now I spend a lot of time driving the Amish and they also wave at everyone going past.

Posted by: Symph on April 3, 2005 04:21 PM

On the other hand, I moved from the bluest Northeast to a small town in the reddest South and while some people were friendly, a lot were not only not friendly but treated me with open suspicion because of the way I talk and the vowel at the end of my surname.

Posted by: Chris on April 3, 2005 07:58 PM

A big Rebel Yell, the south gonna rise again, Cat.

Posted by: catfish on April 3, 2005 09:13 PM

I never comment if I do not think the post is first class. This one is.

Posted by: Thomas on April 3, 2005 10:28 PM

I remember having a hell of a time trying to wash that damn clay out of clothes when my niece & nephew came out one summer for a visit.

Posted by: Maeve on April 4, 2005 12:47 AM

1. Muscadines and Scuppernong's. We eat them, make wine and jelly from them.
2. Bisquits are an art form. Cornbread is a sacrament.
3. Brunswick Stew is good. Low Country Hash is better.
4. Pulled Pork is the Epicurean's Delight from our fabulous bbq.
5. Kudzu is the cosmic landscaper's way of beautifying abandoned cars and washing machines.
6. Everyone should climb Stone Mountain at least once. Also, taking in the laser show while inebriated is a must.
7. We were in Savannah when River Street was renovated.
8. Boiled peanuts are an excellent snack on long drives. Forget potted meat. Vienna sausages are not made in Vienna, GA.
9. Most of the pine forrests along the coastal regions are owned by paper companies. That's why Savannah smells like pulpwood.

Posted by: Wall on April 4, 2005 01:15 AM

Fuckin yawn... you sound like a bunch of insular rubes. For uniformly nice people, go to the midwest, esp. Nebraska. For good food, go somewhere ethnic (sadly, the worst shitstains of blue America have the best food). And oh yeah, being disrespectful to cops only has bad consequences in the land that lost the war... fuckin yawn. All the south has going for it is it knows how to vote in Presidential elections...

Posted by: Chris on April 4, 2005 01:34 AM

Yawn motherfuck chris, you talk shit, can't handle us being southern?
I like to beat your pussy ass, and make you squeal
Yawn again

you totally pissed me off
motherfucker

Posted by: murry on April 4, 2005 02:21 AM

And so, 24 more reasons why I don't want my kids to ever grow up in a "Blue" state. People down South, as this list shows, are just more human.

Posted by: The Babaganoosh on April 4, 2005 02:34 AM

Up here in Blue-ass Connecticut, people actually do wave; so long as you live in the same Condominium complex as they do. Any other scenario of hand gesturing from your vehicle up here probably has to do with with either someone driving like a jackass, or a pedestrian walking in front of moving traffic.

Posted by: JG22 on April 4, 2005 03:37 AM

Thanks Rob, for reminding me of fishing with my dad about 50 years ago. I was using his fly rod that he bought in Japan during the big one. I was whipping it back and forth and hitting the water on my back cast when he said "gimme that, I'll show you". He made a false cast toward the reeds and the popper touched the water just long enough for a 3 pound bass to grab it and break off the tip of his pretty bamboo rod. I swallowed real hard so as not to laugh. Funny how it makes me remember him fondly. Sometimes seeing someone handle a pride busting situation can be inspiring.

Posted by: Ivan Ivanovich on April 4, 2005 09:43 AM

Ivan, that reminds me of an adventure I had with my father when I was about 12 years old. We were fishing from a row-boat on a lake and I hooked a good one.

That thing took off running, made my drag sing like a church choir and damn near bent my rod double. I knew I had a big 'un.

My dad shouted, "Lemme take it!! You're gonna let it get away!!!" Being the obedient son that I was, I handed my rod to dad.

He fought that thing for about five minutes, cussing like the ex-sailor he was the entire time. In the end, the tip of the rod broke off and the fish got away, trailing about 100 yards of line behind it.

That incident put an end to fishing that day. I suspect that I had a huge bass, but I'll never know. My dad was humiliated that he didn't land that monster.

We didn't talk much on the way home.

Posted by: Acidman on April 4, 2005 12:14 PM

No one can question my southern origins, but we are individuals nonetheless. I dislike fried okra, and hate ICED (not ice) tea that is so sweet you cannot identify the plant it came from.

Posted by: Brett on April 6, 2005 11:44 AM
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