Being Southern is Expensive

If there is anything Southern men know, it is that Southern women are expensive.

You may be wondering, why is that? Well, I'm glad you asked.

Women in the North like to spend money on clothes and the latest $2,000 handbag. And don't get me wrong, Southern women can do that kind of spending too, but that's not our main focus.

We spend money on people around us. Hell, we're expected to spend money on people around us. Like most Southern women, my momma raised me to never show up at someone's house empty-handed and never let an occasion pass uncelebrated.

That requires gifts. Gifts equal money. Southern women are an expensive bunch.

No gift is too small or insignificant.

Here are some occasions that would require gifts (This might be something as small as a card):

• Mary-Jane is having a baby
• Louise is turning 30
• Mary-Ann's oldest child is graduating from kindergarten 
• Jim-Bob is retiring
• Kathy-Lee got a new job
• Lurlene got straight A's
• Jolene sneezed and her momma thinks it's a touch of the flu
• Raylon is having a few people over for a bonfire

In the South, gift giving is not about the occasion; it's about the thought. Southern women want everyone, and I mean everyone, in their life to know they're loved.

From the outside it probably looks like we do this out of obligation or to keep up appearances, and on some level I'm sure that's true. But for me, I just love seeing someone's face light up when they open a truly thoughtful gift or read a thoughtfully written card. 

Sometimes I think Hallmark should just give Southern women free reign. Give us unlimited access to heart-warming cards and we could give you world peace. Never underestimate the power of a thoughtful gift, my friends.

Hoarding: Buried Alive

Last night, I was livid and highly offended, as was my roommate. Per usual, we were watching our DVR'd episodes of Hoarding: Buried Alive, the greatest show ever if your stomach is strong enough.

On this particular episode a man named Floyd was living in absolute filth and large amounts of mold in northern California. That's fine, do what you will with your life. But then it was revealed that Floyd's 2-year-old son, Charlie, lived with him. Every time this child was shown on the screen he had a deep cough, presumably from the mold infested house.

Outside of the house. Yes, that's a spare trailer on the right side of the photo.
Who doesn't need one of those?

To get a better feel for this episode, feel free to watch this quick clip.

Every morning Charlie and Floyd would wake up, brush their teeth and eat breakfast like any normal father and son. Except that in this household there was really nowhere to sit, there were loaded firearms haphazardly secured to the ceiling with zip ties and there was broken glass scattered about. 

Then came the kicker.

Floyd explained very calmly that this was just the country way of life, that in the country things didn't have to be spic and span, that a little dirt never hurt a child.

You're right Floyd, dirt doesn't hurt children, but loaded firearms and mold do.

Living in a hoard does not constitute the country way of life, but I certainly appreciate that Floyd is  furthering the rest of the country's perception of country life. Awesome.

Sure, where I'm from there is no shortage of broken down cars, electronics and large-scale appliances sitting on front lawns. But there are equal amounts of well cared for homes and farms.

Last time I checked, country folk were some of the most prideful in the world and that includes taking pride in their land and their homes.

The only heart to bless in this post is California CPS. Although just to give an update, they did return his children (there was also a 1-year-old) after he cleaned it all up. Awesome.

Anyone need a green card?

I recently made a trip home to North Carolina. While I was there I got to spend some time with Bob*, one of my best friends from undergrad - quite the treat!

However, things almost took a turn for the worse (or the hilarious) when my sister and I took Bob with us to lunch at a hole in the wall sandwich place in the country.

At this point it is important to note that Bob is the trifecta of ethnicities - French Canadian, American and Mexican. But physically speaking the Mexican portion is the most prominent.

While eating lunch, another old friend of mine, James*, walked in. After chatting with him for a few minutes, I returned to my table to find my sister and Bob laughing hysterically.

Apparently, they were planning to approach James and tell him that Bob and I were engaged, but only so Bob could get his green card. As fuel to the fire, Bob was going to speak solely in Spanish the entire time.

Green means go?

Hilarious, but not good.

In my hometown, people are not exactly fond of hispanics, nor do they respect them very often. So the prospect of one of their own (me) dating "one of them" (my hispanic friend) probably wouldn't have gone over too well.

Bless my heart, if they had followed through it could have branded me for the rest of my dating life.

*Names have been changed.

The southern spokesperson

Last night I hung out with my friend from Pennsylvania (the same one from several posts ago), and once again she got me thinking. What can I say? She's very interested in learning about different cultures.

Here is the gist of our conversation:

Her: So I've been meaning to ask you, when people in the North fly rebel flags, what are they representing?
Me: You made me pause Food Network Star to ask me that?
Her: Well I figured you would know.
While her assumption was accurate, the whole conversation made me think about my newfound position as the self-proclaimed spokesperson of the South. Until my Southern awakening in undergrad, I had about as much Southern knowledge as a Northerner.

But then again, a lot of the people I grew up with didn't either. I went to school with several people who thought the South won the Civil War, but that's a whole different conversation.

What's that I hear? A chorus of rebel yells coming from my hometown?
I hate to crush their dreams and tell them the truth but here it goes... we lost the Civil War.

Here are things I knew about the South when I was growing up:

1. We lost the Civil War and a lot of people were not happy about it
2. Outsiders thought it was funny when we said "Y'all"
3. We blessed more people than the Pope (Women blessed hearts; men blessed people out)
4. The redneck parade marked the start of every school year (This was when all the rednecks in the school - 50% of the people - got in trucks, flew rebel flags and drove around the school parking lot. Yeehaw.)
5. Saying "please," "thank you," "ma'am" and "sir" were not options, they were strict rules.

But even after my Southern awakening, I still held more cultural than historical knowledge. That is until I took History of the South my senior year of college. It changed my whole world and with that semester in my back pocket, I am now a plethora of random Southern knowledge.

So bless her heart, at this time in my life, my friend accurately assumed I would have the answer to most any Southern question. Thank you Dr. Speer for teaching me well.

My my, how things change

Well fair readers, I stumbled upon an interesting article this morning in the New York Times. The headline reads "For New Life, Blacks in City Head South."

Really now? I'm intrigued. Tell me more.

Apparently a lot of black New Yorkers, particularly those in Queens, are moving South because of our low real estate prices, economic opportunities and soured racial relations. According to the article,

"About 17 percent of the African-Americans who moved to the South from other states in the past decade came from New York, far more than from any other state, according to census data. Of the 44,474 who left New York State in 2009, more than half, or 22,508, went to the South, according to a study conducted by the sociology department of Queens College for The New York Times."

Really now? Economic opportunities? Because the last time I checked, the counties around my hometown had some of the highest unemployment rates in the state (almost 2% higher than New York I might add). And this mass exodus from New York is targeting North Carolina, Florida, Virginia and Georgia. Interesting.

My other favorite part of the article was this catchy little line --

“My grandmother’s generation left the South and came to the North to escape segregation and racism,” she [Ms. Wilkins] said. “Now, I am going back because New York has become like the old South in its racial attitudes.”

Really now? Because the last time I checked (which was some time in the last month) I was informed that the South is still incredibly segregated, particularly in cities.

So essentially, everyone wants to talk about how bad the racial tension is in the South, but now the truth is coming out. The truth being that there is racial tension everywhere, ours just happens to historically pack more gusto.

Very interesting. I'm actually shocked by this article. I honestly believed that everyone still thought the South was this antebellum museum of racial tension and men wearing bed sheets.

Bless my heart, I stand corrected. Thank you New York Times.

Is John Deere married to Jane Deere?

Growing up, my family was anything but redneck. Sure we lived in a small town and did small town activities, but those activities did not include NASCAR, cow tipping or anything involving tractors or tractor accessories.

Things are a little different now.

First, my father moved out to an even more rural area which abides by the "tractor factor." Meaning that in the same way that city folk don't travel during rush hour, country folk don't travel during prime tractor time.

You can't fathom how long it takes to get somewhere when you are stuck behind a tractor going 5 mph. Trust me. And most all the tractors I've seen are John Deere.

Side note: My father may live in a rural area, but he is far from redneck. He just enjoys a simplier lifestyle, which I have to say I thoroughly enjoy myself.

Then my sister married a redneck. A legitimate redneck. We have affectionately dubbed them "The Rednecks."

Side note: My sister is a semi-legitimate redneck now, complete with a John Deere themed kitchen and dining room.

Legit rednecks. God bless them - I love them!

At Christmas a few years back, my father even bought my sister a Jane Deere sweatshirt.

That's right folks -- Jane Deere. Potential wife of John Deere, but I haven't researched their relationship status of late.

So I ask you fair readers - what is with the Southern obsession with the Deere clan? Someone please tell me, because I would love to know.

Bless her heart, I even had a friend in college who had a John Deere tattoo on her lower abdomen.

That's right. Lower Abdomen.

Southern Geography

Not too long ago I was having a conversation with a co-worker (and fellow Southerner). It went something like this:

Me: I've only traveled out of the south once and that was a 2 day excursion to Colorado.
Her: Really? But you are really well-spoken.

Then last night I was discussing with my roommate the possibility of a trip to Utah. The conversation went like this:

Me: So I was thinking about going to Utah.
Him: Like flying there? In a plane?
Me: ...seriously? Yes, in a plane.
Him: I'm impressed. You know that's across the Mississippi, right?

If these incidents had been isolated they wouldn't have had the same impact. But they really got me thinking.

Most of my Southern friends and family have rarely (if ever) traveled outside of the South, much less outside of the country.

And the lack of geographical knowledge is astounding. Start throwing out names like Ontario, Malasia, Albania or New York and you're going to need an atlas and a lot of time and patience.

So why is it that Southerners know so little about the rest of the country (and world)? Obviously this is a generalization, but in my experience it tends to be a more prominent generalization among Southerners.

Is the South just so amazing that we have no need to learn about anything else? Or have our 6th grade geography teachers failed us?

I don't think there is any sort of answer to this question, but I do think it is an important issue that needs to be addressed.

And for the record, yes, I am a Southern woman who has barely traveled outside the South. And yes, I am very well-spoken. My Southern education has served me well, thank you very much.

If your geography skills are a little lackluster, then bless your heart, I guess I know what to get you for Christmas.

The big secret

"Who would've thought we'd have a black son before we met a democrat?"

- Sean Touhy, The Blind Side

No, I'm not a democrat. And, sorry family, I'm also not a republican.

The big secret is that I'm not a registered voter - therefore, I choose no party.

I don't disagree with the confusion and disdain I face when I mention this fact - which I rarely do.

I recognize that I should vote. It's my right as an American.

And I recognize that as a southerner I am stereotypically expected to be a staunch republican.

Sorry friends... not going to happen.

Don't get me wrong, I like the way republicans handle military issues. Yes, that's the southerner in me.

But I also like the way democrats handle social issues. Yes, that's the... well I don't know where the hell that comes from.

I've reached a place of intense conflict within myself about political issues. But no matter how much research I do, I never feel like I understand political issues enough to make an educated choice.

So I don't.

And with that said, I also don't complain about political issues. By choosing not to vote I am giving up my chance to voice my opinion so I will not do so after the fact.

But here's a thought.

I'm expected to be republican because I'm southern, right?

Well, if you'll recall, southerners were religiously democratic until the middle of the 20th century thanks to Abraham Lincoln and, ironically enough, democratic southerner Lyndon Johnson.

And North Carolina went Democratic in 2008 for the first time since 1976.

But everyone seems to neglect those facts when politically stereotyping southerners.

Bless the hearts of every politically confused southerner, we're a strange breed.

The Unholy Trinity

I'm sure that to most people the idea of being happy is often a reasonable goal. And most people know how to be content when they find it.

Not southerners.

The burden of southern history weighs on the shoulders of each true southern person whether they choose it or not. It's a product of our past and a signal of our future.

It's not just a phrase; it's also a famous book.

So, you may ask, what is this burden and why won't it go away?  Well I'm glad you asked.

The burden of southern history is a mixture of many things, mostly events, but, for me, its most prominent manifestation comes in the form of a phrase - The Unholy Trinity of Southern History - coined by southern liberal writer, Lillian Smith.

The unholy trinity of southern history is:

1. White supremacy
2. Worship of white women
3. Evangelical religion

Each of these has its own story and its own set of problems (more on those later). But the essence is that because of the wrongs southerners committed, or refuse to admit we committed, we have a hard time letting go of our guilt, anger and shame.

That makes it difficult to ever be satisfied. Or happy.

But let me be clear, this is not the burden of every southerner. Just some.

I used to believe this wasn't true, but now, after studying southern history pretty extensively, I'm not sure that it isn't true.

If I look at my own life, all of the issues I can't let go of are usually traced back to the unholy trinity in some form.

Examples:

• Dichotomy of gender roles in the south -- Worship of white women (southern belles)
• Issues with religion -- Evangelical religion
• Being from a racist county -- White supremacy

I can be proud of my roots while still questioning their history. Maybe one day the south will come to terms with its history.

Until then, I will continue to question, research and pray until I can find peace between my roots and my beliefs.

This post was created for a reason. Tomorrow is April 12, 2011... the 150th anniversary of the beginning of the War between the States. That weight's feeling heavier and heavier.

Bless the hearts of all the southerners still carrying the burden of southern history - it's not a light load.

God Bless the Rednecks

I went to undergrad at Lees-McRae College in the mountains of western North Carolina. At a Lees-McRae graduation ceremony decades before I was student, the keynote speaker eloquently said,

"Through the years you will hear the whisper.  It will blow down the Elk River and through these pines, among the mountains, to the highways wherever we are.  It will always be the same message for us, the message from Lees-McRae... it will say, ‘come back, come back.'"

Whenever I hear that quote it reminds me of how much I miss the mountains and North Carolina. Sometimes I feel the pull so strongly that it's like I can hear those words being whispered in my ear.

Home is definitely a feeling for me, but I don't think I ever appreciated North Carolina when I lived there. 

I've been displaced from my roots for more than 6 months and it hasn't become any easier. I'm now realizing all the things I love about the people, the state and, more importantly, the feeling I get when I drive home and catch the first glimpse of a North Carolina farm, a redneck with a mullet or super fancy trailer park.

Oh, home.  How I miss you.

Upscale Trailer Park. Hehe.

That may sound redneck and crazy to you, but it's all about pride. I know my roots and I know my people. For better or worse, God bless 'em, they're mine.

Haha.  Oh rednecks.

So, you might ask, what makes all this worthy of pride?  Well I'm glad you asked.

I think that instead of an explanation, perhaps I will just name a few things I found on a hilarious webpage called "You know you're from North Carolina if..." You never know, after reading this you may want to convert to the redneck religion - so proceed with caution.

You Know You're From North Carolina If...

1. Most of the men in town consider the first day of deer season a national holiday
2. Your idea of a traffic jam is ten cars waitin' to pass a tractor on the highway
3. You skipped school to go to Dale Earnhardt's memorial service
4. You know a bunch of people who have hit a deer or a bear
5. Brown Liquor is a household staple
6. You see people wearing bib overalls at funerals
7. All the festivals around the state are named after a fruit, vegetable, or tobacco
8. You put security lights on your house and your garage and leave both of them unlocked
9. You think the four major food groups are beef, pork, beer, and Jello salad with marshmallows
10. You know what "cow tipping" is.
11. You say, “it don’t” instead of “it doesn’t.”
12. At least one of your female relatives has dipped snuff.
13. Your luxury car is a 4x4
14. “Onced” and “twiced” are words.
15. It ain't the Civil War, its the War of Northern Aggression

Bless your heart, I bet your bags are already packed and ready to move to North Carolina. Well we'd be just plum tickled to have ya!

Deb Who? Debutante!

Let me clear one thing up. I was not a deb (debutante).

I am not tan. I cuss a lot. And if I'm going to get dolled up and wear a white dress I had better have more than an "escort" by my side.

Typical Debutante Ball Gown

As with most things I discuss on this blog, the debutante tradition is not just in the south. It's even done in London for Christ's Sake.

However, in the southern world, it's basically a requirement for all true, honest to God, southern belles to be a debutante.

Notice the southern tradition?

So, you might ask, what exactly is a debutante and why is it such a big deal?

Glad you asked! Traditionally, debutante balls, also known as cotillion balls or coming out parties, were used to show society that a young woman was eligible for marriage.

Nowadays they are used to present a girl of high social standing to society as "adults." And where I am from, you MUST be of high social standing and usually around 16-18 years old.

Get 'em while they're young guys!

The balls are usually elaborate affairs and can include junior debs (it's like a trial run for them) and even flower girls! It can be very bridezilla-esque.

Bridezilla? I think yes!

I know this all sounds very shallow, but there is an upside! In fact, there are two upsides.

1) The balls usually raise money for a charity of some sort. (See?  Not totally selfish!)

2) It's a tradition!  Who wouldn't want to put on a frilly dress and let everyone raise money for a charity just because a girl became a woman?

Oh, and as a fun fact most of you probably already knew, men are known as Beaus.

Sometimes I wish I had been a debutante (more on that later). But alas, in southern years* I am basically an old maid. Not exactly Debutante material anymore!

If you weren't a debutante but wish you would have been, bless your heart (and my own)!


*Southern years are similar to dog years in which southern women live their lives twice as quickly as women in other regions.  More on that later.

Water into wine? No, Let's Make Tobacco into Wine!

North Carolina is the number one tobacco producing and cigarette manufacturing state in the country.

North Carolina also just celebrated the opening of their 100th winery.

Courtesy of zazzle.com

Courtesy of post-gazette.com

How did North Carolina make the leap from tobacco to wine? Well, I'm glad you asked.

It was not a leap at all. The only thing that changed was that the rest of the country realized North Carolina could grow grapes. And since the decline of the tobacco industry, North Carolina has slowly transitioned its industry to meet the changing market, which meant out with failing tobacco farms and in with wineries! 

But Southerners already had a legacy of homemade wine. From a young age, I drank it and moonshine, which is another conversation altogether.

The late Marvin "Popcorn" Sutton
(My family's old moonshiner with his homemade still)
Photo courtesy of the Appalachian Traveler

And let's be honest, southerners like to drink. And southerners, especially North Carolinians, like to manufacture and farm, so I'm not completely sure why it was such a shock t the rest of the country when we, as a state, began to sell our wine.

Given our heritage of bootleggin' and moonshine, the only thing I can understand to be shocking is that we would want to sell our alcohol legally.

Well, California may be the most notorious wine state with the infamous Napa Valley, but North Carolina has the Yadkin Valley and the difference goes far beyond the grapes.

Here is a list of observations gathered by my father, a seasoned winery-goer in both areas:

Napa Valley Wineries (some of these may be the exception, not the rule):

• The limo parking is in front of the handicap parking
• You have to make an appointment for a wine tasting
• A tasting costs around $50 and you don't get to keep the glass
• You don't get to meet the owner or the wine-maker

Yadkin Valley Wineries (almost all of these are the rule, not the exception):

• Most parking lots are gravel or dirt
• There is a good chance fiddle/banjo music will be playing in the background.
• A tasting cost around $5-8 and you get to keep the glass.
• The owner or wine-maker usually gives the tasting.
• If you are from North Carolina, there is a good chance you will find out you are related to the owner or someone who is in that winery.

For those who feel the need to drink fancy wine, bless your heart. I'll take my country Yadkin Valley wine any day!

Is There Something in the Water?

When I was younger there was a phenomenon that occurred in my high school.  It scared naive girls, made fathers everywhere nauseous and caused a lot of people to quit drinking the water (figuratively speaking of course).

The phenomenon was... (drumroll please)... teen pregnancy!

Before you protest, I am aware of many things:

1) This does not just happen in the south, but we do have the highest rates
2) Thanks to similar childhood experiences and shows like Teen Mom, most people are jaded about the subject
3) It isn't really a phenomenon

All that aside, let's continue on.

Now in my high school, the girls were not particularly slutty and the boys were not particularly promiscuous... at least no more than the kids at other high schools in the area.  Our parents taught us strong family values and most people went to church real regular.  Yet, somehow, our school had exponentially more pregnancies.

Some schools were good at football.  Some schools were good at basketball.  We were good at masonry, baseball and pregnancy.  Two out of three isn't bad, right?

The other fact that still intrigues me is that most of the girls who got pregnant did not marry the "baby-daddy."  When people think of teen pregnancy, or at least when I think of teen pregnancy in the religious south, I always assumed that marriage was a given.  With that said, I applaud those girls who did not rush into a marriage just because of a child.

But given that the only thing that outnumbered churches in our town was... well nothing, I also assumed that most father's would have strongly encouraged these young men to "do the right thing."  And since we're talking about redneck country, "strongly encouraged" means aiming a shotgun at the boys private parts.  Nothin' like a little gentle persuasion.

It's also intriguing the way teen pregnancy is viewed where I'm from.  I have 3 best friends from my high school with whom I am still close.  I'm in graduate school, one girl is in law school, one girl is getting her CPA and the other girl has a culinary degree and is also in cosmetology school.  We're the cream of the crop for our county.  And amidst stunning academic records and bright futures, the thing we are most proud of is the fact that we managed to make it through middle school, high school, college and early adulthood without getting pregnant out of wedlock. (And yes, in today's society, it was necessary to include middle school)

I'm not sure why that is such a feat.  I'm also not quite sure how we managed to not get pregnant given the obvious fertility of our teen counterparts.  Personally, I think it's because we never drank the water.

For those who made North Carolina an abstinence only state, bless your heart.

The Old Southern Way of Life

They say that when they are little, every girl wants to marry her father.  Well I don't know who "they" are, but they are right about one thing - I want to marry a man who is southern like my father.  I also want to be a southern woman like my mother.  To me, they are the epitome of old southern.

So what is old southern?  Well, I'm glad you asked.

To me, old southern is a way of life.  I think that a lot of southerners today just want the title of southern so they can throw a rebel flag in the back of their truck and not be accountable for knowing its historical significance.  I'm pretty sure that if Nathan Bedford Forrest were alive he would be mighty confused about how things are going down these days.  I digress.

What makes my father a true southern gentleman is hard to pinpoint.  I attribute it mostly to his actions and his language (he is fluent in old southern phrasing, which is not to be confused with old man speak).

He would never dream of letting me open a door for myself.

He would never dream of letting me (or anyone I bring with me) pay for anything, but he does appreciate the offer.

He calls every woman he knew as a child "lady."  As in, "My mom was friends with a real nice lady..."

He rarely walks in front of me.

All of these actions and words show the utmost respect for me, but he's this way with any woman.  It's a type of respect southern men had for southern women that is unfortunately slowly falling by the wayside.  

And bless her heart, my mother is cut from the same old southern cloth.  Since I was a young girl she has unconsciously groomed me to be a perfect wife and run an impeccable household.

I know the proper way to clean a house.

I know how to organize a fabulous dinner party (and I own a variety of serving sets in different patterns so every occasion is as color coordinated as possible).

I know every hilarious southern phrase invented (mostly church related as are most southernisms) so that I can always sound like a lady.  (Examples: Heavens to Betsy, Lordy Be, Holy Moses, Christ Almighty...)

Sidenote: For the record, I have no idea who Betsy is or why we associate her with heaven, but it's sure a fun phrase to say!

On the surface, all of my mother's actions show how to be a docile woman that tends to the house and men, but when it's a lifestyle lived, you realize that it's not about docility, it's about respect.

All of this shows the contradictory nature of the south, especially the old south.  Men treat women as though they are the backbone of southern society.  Women conduct their lives so as to make sure the men can be manly and not worry with "woman's work" as my uncle calls it.

It's a perfect collision of respect and love that I don't see or feel as much in today's south.  That's why I want to marry a man that is old southern like my father and why I want to be a good southern woman like my mother. 

If you've never encountered a true southern woman or man, well then bless your heart!