OK...
...my dog ate the cord off of my alarm clock while I was sleeping. For that, he will be sleeping in the kennel until next Spring. I can’t believe he did that. With any luck at all, it caused him a bit of a shock.
Just yesterday I was bragging about that dog to someone. Now, I have to go back and tell them that my dog is not a sweet little thing, but, rather, a big stupid jerk that eats alarm clocks.
Now that dumb dog is scratching at the window trying to get me to let him in. Well, that’s just too bad. He can sit out there and guard the trash...maybe he will do something useful and chase off the unidentified raccoon that keeps messing up my trash.
Oh...I got this email yesterday:
howdy! ok, first, if a man says he got a crawdad from under a rock you instantly know he's a crack addict. they don't live there.
they don't even rent space there! and even worse, he's not a true southerner or he's know that!
I just heard that recently! I can’t believe that midget lied to me! Seriously, I heard it in the Kennesaw battlefield not that long ago at all. I was about to say how I loved the South and that the entire anti-Southern thing was just a joke (which, of course...it was).
And...I was going to begin my pro-South discourse with a homily about the “marvelous man who is The Redneck” and then I find out that the last redneck that I out was with LIED to me!
And...to the good boys and girls out there...what have we learned about liars? Liars do what????
Liars lie.
Oh well, redneck men certainly aren’t all that wonderful...but good old boys are. I love a good old boy...those are some fun guys to hang out with. There IS a difference. Rednecks have fewer teeth than good old boys and they drink far more Budweiser. Those good old boys drive better cars and they don’t keep couches on their front porches. Good old boys usually have just one woman and they treat her well. Rednecks have a few and they treat them all like dirt.
Good old boys know how to have fun with a few things that they find out back. They can take an inner tube and a 6-pack, go to the nearest river and have more fun just floating down the water than a city boy would ever think of. Of course, city rivers aren’t usually rivers that you would WANT to float down so I can’t blame those city boys too much.
My mother’s family is from the South and they can have more fun than anyone I’ve ever hung out with. A happier lot, you won’t soon find. The women make the best potato salad that you’ll ever taste. They have great food down here. Not great restaurants, just great food. In the North, they have wonderful restaurants, but they have to...the women don’t cook like they do in the South. I have cousins who can open their fridge and find enough food in there to feed a group of 20 without ever going to the grocery store. That’s some talented cooking. (And they can do it without cooking up the first grit.)
When I first moved down here, I was amazed at how the cashier could actually stand there and chat with the person in front of me AFTER the stuff was all rung up. I stared in disbelief and shock...listening to the two of them chat as thought they were lifelong buddies. They weren’t. The people down here are just so darned friendly, that they can stop and chat with anyone they happen to meet. Now I don’t sit there steaming anymore, I just join in the conversation.
If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. I love watching newcomers get all annoyed at the slow pace of the South. It doesn’t take very long for anyone to realize that life’s too short to get upset at people who have already figured out that there isn’t any reason to hurry, you can just stop and have a nice time as you go about your daily business.
When I first moved down here, I couldn’t figure out why people kept waving at me. I thought that I must look like someone they knew. Then, I figured out that people in the South just wave at everyone they pass.
It certainly was culture shock when I came down here. But...after a while of being here, it was a bit shocking to go back North and see those folk after I had become adjusted to the people down here. I had been living in Virginia for years and when I went back to Chicago to visit, I was stunned at what people were wearing. This was in the 80’s and I totally missed the Mohawk thing starting. I was down here watching Mullets.
I went out dancing at this place called The Thirsty Whale. When I left Chicago, that was a place where you could dance to great rock and roll music any night of the week. When I went back, it was a head banging place. So, being the agreeable woman that I am, I went ahead and banged a few heads myself. It was fun, but nothing I’d want to do for any length of time.
I make fun of the South, but I really do love it here. I make fun of everyone and later on, when I’ve had some coffee, I’ll make fun of someone else. I just haven’t decided who yet.
Well, I have to run out and do a few things and then I’ll be back to see what group of people I can offend next.
See ya!
Meg
...my dog ate the cord off of my alarm clock while I was sleeping. For that, he will be sleeping in the kennel until next Spring. I can’t believe he did that. With any luck at all, it caused him a bit of a shock.
Just yesterday I was bragging about that dog to someone. Now, I have to go back and tell them that my dog is not a sweet little thing, but, rather, a big stupid jerk that eats alarm clocks.
Now that dumb dog is scratching at the window trying to get me to let him in. Well, that’s just too bad. He can sit out there and guard the trash...maybe he will do something useful and chase off the unidentified raccoon that keeps messing up my trash.
Oh...I got this email yesterday:
howdy! ok, first, if a man says he got a crawdad from under a rock you instantly know he's a crack addict. they don't live there.
they don't even rent space there! and even worse, he's not a true southerner or he's know that!
I just heard that recently! I can’t believe that midget lied to me! Seriously, I heard it in the Kennesaw battlefield not that long ago at all. I was about to say how I loved the South and that the entire anti-Southern thing was just a joke (which, of course...it was).
And...I was going to begin my pro-South discourse with a homily about the “marvelous man who is The Redneck” and then I find out that the last redneck that I out was with LIED to me!
And...to the good boys and girls out there...what have we learned about liars? Liars do what????
Liars lie.
Oh well, redneck men certainly aren’t all that wonderful...but good old boys are. I love a good old boy...those are some fun guys to hang out with. There IS a difference. Rednecks have fewer teeth than good old boys and they drink far more Budweiser. Those good old boys drive better cars and they don’t keep couches on their front porches. Good old boys usually have just one woman and they treat her well. Rednecks have a few and they treat them all like dirt.
Good old boys know how to have fun with a few things that they find out back. They can take an inner tube and a 6-pack, go to the nearest river and have more fun just floating down the water than a city boy would ever think of. Of course, city rivers aren’t usually rivers that you would WANT to float down so I can’t blame those city boys too much.
My mother’s family is from the South and they can have more fun than anyone I’ve ever hung out with. A happier lot, you won’t soon find. The women make the best potato salad that you’ll ever taste. They have great food down here. Not great restaurants, just great food. In the North, they have wonderful restaurants, but they have to...the women don’t cook like they do in the South. I have cousins who can open their fridge and find enough food in there to feed a group of 20 without ever going to the grocery store. That’s some talented cooking. (And they can do it without cooking up the first grit.)
When I first moved down here, I was amazed at how the cashier could actually stand there and chat with the person in front of me AFTER the stuff was all rung up. I stared in disbelief and shock...listening to the two of them chat as thought they were lifelong buddies. They weren’t. The people down here are just so darned friendly, that they can stop and chat with anyone they happen to meet. Now I don’t sit there steaming anymore, I just join in the conversation.
If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. I love watching newcomers get all annoyed at the slow pace of the South. It doesn’t take very long for anyone to realize that life’s too short to get upset at people who have already figured out that there isn’t any reason to hurry, you can just stop and have a nice time as you go about your daily business.
When I first moved down here, I couldn’t figure out why people kept waving at me. I thought that I must look like someone they knew. Then, I figured out that people in the South just wave at everyone they pass.
It certainly was culture shock when I came down here. But...after a while of being here, it was a bit shocking to go back North and see those folk after I had become adjusted to the people down here. I had been living in Virginia for years and when I went back to Chicago to visit, I was stunned at what people were wearing. This was in the 80’s and I totally missed the Mohawk thing starting. I was down here watching Mullets.
I went out dancing at this place called The Thirsty Whale. When I left Chicago, that was a place where you could dance to great rock and roll music any night of the week. When I went back, it was a head banging place. So, being the agreeable woman that I am, I went ahead and banged a few heads myself. It was fun, but nothing I’d want to do for any length of time.
I make fun of the South, but I really do love it here. I make fun of everyone and later on, when I’ve had some coffee, I’ll make fun of someone else. I just haven’t decided who yet.
Well, I have to run out and do a few things and then I’ll be back to see what group of people I can offend next.
See ya!
Meg
posted by Meg Kelso | 2:15 AM
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