Tell me you're southern w/o telling me your southern

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
121

When I first moved to North East Florida in my late 20s, I dated a pretty, divorced girl, named Trish, mid-twenties, from a very backwoods, very southern community, about 30 miles from my home. Trish was wild, loud. loved to dance to C&W music, wore Daisy-Duke-type shorts, and drove her tricked-out muscle car too fast for my liking. She called her young son, Knucklehead. She was an excellent southern cook and her cat-head biscuits were pure ambrosia. She was a lot of fun and very caring to those she loved.

Trish was sassy to everyone she encountered, except her Paw, who she never disrespected and always addressed as, yes sir, or, no sir. Her mother was dead. Her older sister, Mona was even louder and wilder than she. Her oldest brother just got out of prison. Her younger brother died from a heroin overdose when he was a teen.

When we decided to date, Trish told me that I had to meet and get Paw’s approval before she was allowed to date me. She said, he’s an ornery cuss, but I love him to death. She did everything her Paw told her to do. He’ll whoop me with a switch if I don’t.

Trish set up our meeting at Paw’s single-wide, on his large plot of land (complete with a fishing pond). When we arrived, the single-wide was surrounded by chickens, goats, and other wildlife. As we approached the wide-open front door, a bunch of Pitt Bulls and mongrels I couldn’t identify, surrounded and harassed me, until Trish calmed them down. Don’t be ‘fraid of these pups, their bark is worse than their bite (I wasn’t so sure about that).

I don’t intimidate easily, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I was scared to walk in that door that day. I was a northerner after all, and I knew back-woods southerners don’t normally shine to Yankees.

The living room was dark and dingy and there was a billy goat wandering around inside. Paw was sitting on a folding lawn chair facing the door. He had a shotgun propped up by his side. Trish said, Paw, this is Tibby, the fella I want to date.

Paw was a huge hulk of a man. He looked like someone that could have been cast for the movie Deliverance. My anxiety ratcheted up a few notches. I’m glad to finally meet you, sir, said I, with a crack in my voice.

Paw peppered me with a lot of tough questions and I replied respectfully and honestly. I figured this guy was a good judge of liars, and the sight of that shotgun kept me honest.

After the interview, Trish walked me to my car and said she’d let me know. She called the next day and squealed, Paw likes you!

We were an exclusive couple for the next ~3 years. After decades of dating and a failed marriage, I still consider Trish, the one I shouldn’t have let get away. I just wasn’t ready to settle down with a complete family at that time of my life. We broke up on good terms, but it hurt.

Trish and her family all had thick southern accents and used many of the expressions we northerners associate with southerners. But one expression they used often, that I never heard before or since was “I heard THAT (emphasis on “That”). Maybe it was an expression specific to their region, I don’t know. It was said to express agreement. Question: wanna go to Hogly Wogly and grab a six-pack? Reply: I heard THAT! Trish’s friends and family always poked fun at me because I could never pronounce I heard that, just right.

I re-connected with Trish on Facebook a couple of years ago. She never re-married. Paw died many years ago, as did her older brother. Mona still likes to party. Knucklehead got married and had kids after getting out of the army. Trish is a loving, but tough Mee Maw.

122

People ask me whether I eat grits with butter and salt, or with cream and sugar.
But I try to stay out of religious debates.

123

Good idea. That issue is almost as fraught as Bama/Auburn or Texas/Texas Tech.

The correct position is, of course butter, cheese, bacon, butter, black pepper, butter, cheese and bacon.

124

Actually, grits should be considered food glue. By itself it tastes like crap, but it complements other breakfast items so well.

125

Go cut me a switch!

Yes ma’am!

126

Honestly? I’ve never known anyone who puts sugar and cream in their grits.

I make mine with a half stick of butter, chicken broth, and dried onion flakes. Salt, pepper, and cheese added to taste.

127

Good catch. My family sometimes says that. We also call our parents “sir” and “ma’am”.

Another one is “Have a good 'un!”. That one’s interesting because it’s used by both black and white Southerners, but pronounced differently - I hear black folks say “Have a GOOT’ 'un”, with emphasis on the “good”. I rendered it as “goot”, but that’s not really accurate - the vowel isn’t “oo” like “boot”, but a more rounded version of the “oo” in “book”.

White folks tend to smear the last words together, replacing the vowel of “un” with a schwa and not emphasizing any word: “Havea guud’n!”

128

My dad, from Wisconsin, was sent to Biloxi, Mississippi for basic training when he enlisted in the Air Force. Having never had grits before, he mistook the grits in the mess hall for cream of wheat. So he put milk and sugar on them, like how he would eat cream of wheat. He says it elicited a lot of strange looks from everyone else.

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One cousin (first cousin once removed) used to tell about some northerners at a nearby restaurant table mistaking their side of grits for rice. The scorn in his voice as he mimicked, “eat your rice dear,” could have frozen the farm pond.

In his house grits were served with salt and pepper, with a slice of American cheese melted over the top.

Same cousin used to swear that he wasn’t joking (and I was never 100% sure) when he said that he was an adult before he learned that “damn” and “Yankee” were two separate words.

131

I’m from Indiana and moved to Georgia to teach high school. One day in the lunch line, there were these bright fluorescent red cylindrical thingies. I asked what hey were and they said “hot dogs.” OK, I’ll try them.

Can I get some mustard? Lunch lady gave me a funny look, but gave me some packets.

I sat down in the teacher’s section to eat. I put mustard on a “hot dog” and ate. I ate a fork full of the cole slaw. It was good.

Again with the funny looks from the other teachers. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to put the slaw on your hot dog!”

132

What the hell is a “nana?” The correct pronunciation is “nanner.” Also, that sounds more like nanner puddin’ to me. Anybody else have a problem with red squiggly things ever time they post on this thread?

133

I’m a Nana

134

I hope there ain’t nobody thinking about using you for a pie, sweet as you are.

135

You’re quite right. I left the south over 50 years ago and I forgot the correct name. I can still put one together though. So there’s that. Also, I say “ain’t” and “y’all” a lot, if’n that helps.

:red faced:

136

When I first moved south, I worked with a doc named Heywood, ~40 years my senior. He was equal parts southern aristocrat and cracker, and he was most proud of the cracker part. Im a crack-ah from Valdosta George-ah. He lived with his farm-raised, southern wife (best southern cook I ever met) and 100-year-old mother-in-law, who was sharp as a tack, with nary a gray hair on her head. They were distrustful of Yankees, but we got along just fine. You ain’t so bad…for a Yankee!

They took me to a southern restaurant and I ordered grits for the very first time, along with fried catfish, greens, cornbread, etc.

The grits looked like cream of wheat to me too, so I figured they should be eaten sweet. I mixed the grits with sugar and milk and ate them that way. They were good! Well, Heywood thought this was the funniest thing he ever saw. What the hell did you put on your grits, son?! That just ain’t raght!

Thereafter, whenever we were around other crackers, he busted my chops. You know what this Yankee puts on his grits? Milk and sug-ah! Ain’t that a hoot!?!

137

I’ve only been gone 30 years, but I’m sure there’s stuff I forgot. Full disclosure: I’m a hillbilly (from northeast TN), so I’m a little different from folks from other parts of the south.

138

That’s the thing, isn’t it? There is no single, homogenous South. North Carolina is very different from South Carolina, which is different from Georgia. There are also vastly different accents. Someone from the Appalachians (short A, please) will sound completely different from someone from Down East.

Also, the people who consider Virginia and Texas southern are Virginians and Texans.

139

And the Federal Government. :stuck_out_tongue:

ps. You forgot Florida.

140

Oh, no! The revenuers know where we’re at!!