Random Acts of Sass

The newscaster says in all seriousness: “The controversy over the Dogwood Festival heats up! Details at eleven.” 

Welcome to your new home in the South. After years of mocking our accents, trashing our politicians, and slamming our schools, you’ve decided to make the Southland your new home. We welcome you with open arms and a sweet smile. In an effort to help you better adjust to your new culture, we offer the following tips and hints:

• When we say ma’am or sir, we are not, in fact, “sassin’ you.” There are many times when Southerners will be mocking you, but it will always be subtly, behind your back, and never to your face. If we do choose to mock you, it will not be through the use of our regional customs. We here in the South believe that elders and those in service positions deserve respect. Therefore, if you are older than we are, we will call you ma’am. If something is being requested of you, we will call you ma’am. If you are counting our money at the bank, cleaning the floors of our school, or checking us out at the grocery store, we will call you ma’am.
• You are now surrounded. Making fun of us is silly and a waste of energy. Additionally, you are outnumbered. We therefore would like to strongly encourage that you refrain from laughing at our accents. After all, you put an R at the end of Cuba (Cubar?) and incorrectly pronounce Appalachian. (It’s “App-A-Latch-An”.)
• Complaint about the way we do things down here is discouraged. After all, if you dislike it so much, we cordially invite you to take yourselves to the great frozen North and suffer through snow, sleet, and freezing winters. If it’s so bad down here, why on earth did you grace us with your presence in the first place? Hit I-85 or I-95 North. It will take you back to your homeland.
• Bless your little heart is not a kindness, it’s a way to insult you without it even occurring to you that we’ve just insulted you.
• A silly little custom we abide to down here: if an ambulance, with lights flashing, sirens blaring, and horn honking approaches you from the rear, we strongly suggest that you GET OUT OF THE WAY. After all, someone’s Great Aunt Millie is in the back of the ambulance and her health is surely more important than you getting somewhere thirty seconds faster. Your Range Rover and Connecticut tags do not exempt you from common sense. Honestly.
• After you have lived here for two years, you may not comment on the traffic, overcrowded schools, and inflated real estate prices due to “those people moving down here.” You refer to yourself, and let’s be frank, talking about oneself in the third person is never attractive.

Thank you for your consideration and your decision to make the move down here to the Sweet South. We hope you find your new home pleasant and enjoyable. If you have any further questions, please do not hesitate to ask. After all, looking dumb once is better than looking dumb every day.

Sincerely,

Your Southern Neighbors

I love the state of North Carolina. We all know I love the South. But I really love my home state. My friends tease me, because they can finish this sentence for me, I say it so often:

Me: Well, other states are great and all…
Friend: But nothing beats this one.
Me: Exactly!

Why it Matters (Or: a few things you should know about the best state EVER.)

1. Snow days? Are you kidding? We have Hurricane days. Before Katrina, when the whole country paid attention to Hurricanes, I knew and feared Hurricane season. Half of North Carolina under water? Check. Without power for three weeks? Check. I measure life by Hurricanes. “Well, that was back when Fran hit, so it must’ve been, oh… ‘96?” Or, “We sure did lose an awful lot of trees back with Floyd in ‘99.” When it came time to name our (Stanley Cup Championship) Hockey Team? The Carolina Hurricanes.

2.No matter what those people in Ohio say, we are still “first in flight.” Yes. We are. You know how I know? My liscence plate says so. Furthermore, Kitty Hawk? Located in North Carolina. Do I care of the Wright Brothers are from Ohio? No. My popcorn kernel might come from Indiana but it’s not popcorn ’til I pop it here. And further more, if Ohio is so great, why are y’all always at my beach?

3. The Number Three Still Matters. Not only do I think, “And God Bless him” when I see Dale Earnhardt tributes on the back of trucks and SUVs, I distinctly remember a) watching the race in which Dale hit the wall, b) presuming he was fine, because for the love of God, he’s Dale Earnhardt, of course he’s fine, c) crying when I realized he wasn’t, and d) comforting fellow students. I also watched the memorial service on TV and contemplated a road trip to Kannapolis with friends. And people, I’m not even a NASCAR fan.

4. ACC basketball is not sport. It is religion. Do not insult my religion. I worship at the Chapel on the Hill. Dean Smith is God. Matt Dougherty is a fallen angel. And Roy Williams is the second coming. I will stop speaking to people during basketball season. I despise The-University-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named (rhymes with Puke, usually mistakenly spelled “Duke” when the correct spelling is DOOK). When speaking of Carolina basketball, I say, “we.” Because I’m a part of it, too, damnit. Don’t you know they’ll lose if I don’t watch? Furthermore, one of my favorite books is a little volume titled “To Hate Like This is to be Happy Forever.” Yes. (Related: It’s not baby blue. It’s not powder blue. It’s not pale blue. It’s Carolina blue.)

5. Carolina in my Mind was NOT written in reference to South Carolina. Dumbass.

no time for a real post.

instead, a moment of reflection on my southern-ness.

“Growing up Southern is a privilege, really. It’s more than where you’re born, it’s an idea and a state of mind that seems imparted at birth. It’s more than loving fried chicken, sweet tea, football, beer, and country music. It’s being hospitable, devoted to front porches, magnolias, red velvet cake, Coca-Cola,… and each other. We don’t become Southern, we’re born that way.”

love.

… during a compulsive pre-bedtime checking of my friend’s away messages…

“No lie, the average Yankee knows about as much about the South as a hog knows about the Lord’s plan for salvation.”
-William Price Fox

Okay, that’s so true and so funny.

Tomorrow, I take an exam worth 75% of my semester grade and I’m almost completely unprepared.

Super.