|My Mississippi Home|
No, you hear everything is wonderful, great, couldn’t be better. That’s what we do on Facebook. So when I checked on an old acquaintance status I wasn’t surprise to see, “So proud of my Miss Sweet Potato Queen!” Okay, I laughed. Lovely girl, but I had to laugh. Really? Someone entered a contest to become Miss Sweet Potato Queen?
I can laugh though. I’m from the South, the deep, deep South. We’re like family. You can laugh at your own family, but no one else can. Right? One of my favorite comedians, Jeff Foxworthy, has done it for years. Everyone has heard of ‘You’re a Redneck if…”
Yes, I have family that would fall under that category (proud of it too, mind you). Yes, I know someone who has cut down one of his shrubs outside his front door to use for a Christmas tree. Who from down South doesn't have family that deer hunts? Where my Momma lives is rural country. Miles and miles of farm land. Hardly a person to be seen until...someone kills a deer. And then its like ants swarming around a picnic basket as was evident the last time I was home during deer hunting season. I looked up from the kitchen table to see the whole of my small community outside in my Momma's shed. In a matter of minutes trucks drove in, one right after another. I had no doubt my brother had killed a deer.
Living in the Boston area, the cultures between here and home...well they couldn't be more different than night and day. When I first moved up here, everyone asked me what nationality I was. Everyone up here seems to know exactly where they come from- Irish, Italian, German, Scottish, Portuguese ...except what could I say but Southern. Southern is a nationality. I have always contended that it is. How am I suppose to know what nationality to claim? I basically have everything you can imagine- English, Irish, Scottish, French, and Native American. Those are the ones I know about. Then you have the culture barrier. When I first ordered tea in a restaurant up here, I was served a cup of hot tea. I didn't know what to do with that. What happened to my ice tea? Then for the longest time I kept getting looks when I asked for a Coke. I wasn't talking about a Coke. I drink Diet Coke, but down South we call all soda Coke, certainly not a pop. Not to mention when I used the word fixin'. And nobody...I mean nobody knew how to fry chicken. Now, I'm not a cook, but I know if I ever have a doubt how to cook something...just fry it up. Don't matter what.
So to say I was a little ecstatic to see one of my friends the other day post on Facebook about what Jeff Foxworthy had to say about New Englanders would have been an understatement. Just had to smile. I'll share a few with you that I enjoyed.
If you've worn shorts and a parka at the same time, you live in New England .
If you have switched from 'heat' to 'A/C' in the same day and back again, you live in New England.
If you can drive 75 mph through 2 feet of snow during a raging blizzard without flinching, you live in New England.
If you carry jumpers in your car and your wife knows how to use them, you live in New England .
If the speed limit on the highway is 55 mph you're going 80 and everybody is passing you, you live in New England .
If driving is better in the winter because the potholes are filled with snow,you live in New England.
If you know all 4 seasons: almost winter, winter, still winter and road construction, you live in New England.
If you find 10 degrees 'a little chilly', you live in New England.
If there's a Dunkin Donuts on every corner, you live in New England.
If you think everyone else has a funny accent, you live in New England .
Now, I feel right at home. I can laugh with my adopted home, too. Can't I? Laughing is a good thing.
Hope everyone has a great Thanksgiving!
|The Path Now Turned|
|Shadows of the Past|