Reader’s Note:
No animals and no squealing like a pig were involved in this experience, nor were any relatives or in-laws or children…that’s all part of the Michael Jackson trial.
There are many ways in which we can poke fun at people from the South—Jeff Foxworthy has made a career of it and the “Dukes of Hazzard” has immortalized it on TV/film. Having now lived here for 7 years, I have always felt I was “above the fray”; I was merely a west-coaster residing in the land of Dixie and NASCAR, until last weekend…that’s when it happened. Yes, I have enjoyed grits without anything but butter and pepper, I have spent plenty a weekends in a small Georgia town taming the fire ants and seeing all the stars come out at night, I’ve blended “you all” quite Southernly into “all y’alls” while teaching classes (much to my embarrassment once I heard the contraction spill forth from my lips), I’ve begun “fixin’” things when nothing is actually broken or needs fixing and I’ve even gone and rooted for UGA during football season. Yes, I have at least 2 cowboy hats and know the difference of when to wear each, I’ve been to the rodeo (by choice), I know the difference between Shania and Martina McBride, I’ve had a shot or two of moonshine, I’ve stood alongside friends at a backyard bonfire and I’ve found hidden churches down long red dirt roads that inspired silence.
But, with all this said and done, I still didn’t think I was actually a “Southerner” until I did the one thing that forever had me crossing “the line (not to be confused with the Mason-Dixon)”…I wore clothing with “John Deere” on it, and liked it! It may just be a ball cap, but it’s still a “Deere”. And that was when I realized I had lost my southern virginity!
Next up: overall’s from WalMart!
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