August 22, 2006
Com’ on, admit it. Although you may think South of the Border is the tackiest spot on Earth, you’re glad it exists. Nothing gets you through the Valley of Humility easier than Pedro with his constant pitches to make you stop at South of the Border. (Valley of Humility - why that’s North Carolina, since it is trapped between 2 mountains of conceit - Virginia and South Carolina.)
South of the Border is capitalism at its best. You want it, need it, don’t want it, don’t need it; Pedro can provide it. Long before Tommy Hilfiger had you wearing his clothes emblazoned with his name, Pedro had you buying junk hawking South of the Border. I betcha there’s a case study at some business school on South of the Border’s marketing.
These days I stop on the way home to buy fireworks. In college years, the stop was on the way South, usually to secure a bumper sticker or mail a postcard as proof of some illicit beach trip or Florida escapade during the school year. After college, the stop either going or coming was still to secure a bumper sticker or postcard to be mailed to an accomplice on earlier trip. While I still stop for a bumper sticker or postcard, I sure don’t let my children know or see me do so. Their college days are fast approaching.
August 21, 2006
If you didn’t recognize the reference, it’s South Carolina’s tourism slogan. Saturday, the family and I left for a quick mini vacation before school starts. While I am a Virginian first and always, my heart’s second spot will always be South Carolina. It’s my exotic dangerous sinful Virginia.
Let’s start with the exotic part. While the palmetto might be the state tree, I love the live oak especially when it’s dripping with spanish moss. While you might find a few live oaks in southern coastal North Carolina, it’s not until semi-tropical South Carolina that the live oak thrives. Can you imagine what the early explorers must have thought encountering these willowy limbed monsters with their Halloween adornments?
Danger. South Carolina’s history is one filled with firebrands. Never forget South Carolina wanted to secede from the Union as early as 1832. Fort Sumter launched the Civil War. Nowadays, I can’t tell you how many times I have hit an approach shot a little long only to crest a green and find a sunning alligator near my ball. Play it where it lies has a whole new meaning in South Carolina.
And sinful. Let’s just say I wish I could recover half of the braincells I have lost in South Carolina over the years. In my teens, it was after school week at Ocean Drive. In college, the gated private police communities of Hilton Head were just being developed. After college, Kiawah replaced Hilton Head. Even staid Charleston with its fine restaurants SOB (South of Broad) is an invitation to gluttony.
If I don’t misbehave too bad, I hope to file a few dispatches. Wish me luck!
August 14, 2006
Remember this guy. Yep, that’s Billy Carter. You know, Jimmy’s little brother. As Billy once said, "I’m a real Southern boy. I got a red neck, white socks and Blue Ribbon beer." Down South, we love fellas like Billy, because they are the genuine item - soft spoken, amusing, guileless, true blue and just a pleasure to be around. Sure, if they’re family, they’ll embarrass you from time to time, but it’s never malicious and only because it was Billy just being Billy. And when the going gets tough, it’s a Billy who will be there by your side.
So next time you meet one of these American originals, you can either smirk all you want or just plop yourself down and be prepared to be amused, enlightened, and thoroughly entertained. After all, would you have rather had a beer with Billy or Jimmy?
August 1, 2006
Ah, Southern Cuisine, there’s just nothing like it. If it does not clog our arteries, rot our teeth, or increase our waistline, then it’s just not worth eating. Where else would someone take a nice green vegetable like okra and decide it is best served breaded and deep fried. When we sit down to eat, we expecting our food to contain the six major food groups of the Southern diet - you know, sugar, salt, butter, eggs, cream and bacon grease.
Just look at cornbread; it is perfect Southern food. Not only does it contain the six major food groups, but we are just likely to slather it with even more butter before we eat it.
July 28, 2006
So you’re thinkin’ about movin’ down South, huh? Here’s a word of advice. We’re serious about that
NASCAR. While y’all think it’s just a bunch of guys makin’ left turns all afternoon, we see it as the epic struggle of brave and chivalrous knights in the joust of life. Don’t you ever never say nothin’ bad about
NASCAR.
I am not saying you have to follow it, like it, just don’t badmouth it. Look, that ice hockey stuff y’all think is so great; we think it’s like watchin’ paint dry. Ice is for keeping beer “ice” cold, not for slidin’ around on. If it was, we’d have a NASCAR race for that.
Look, you go along to git along. Just learn a little lingo and you’ll be fine. You don’t even need to know what it means. If someone asks you who your favorite driver is, you don’t even need a name. You can say stuff like the “24 car”, “20 car”, “8 car” and they’ll know what you mean. Just make sure the “number” you put before the word “car” actually races on Sunday. And if you don’t ever want to be asked anything about NASCAR ever again, you can just say something like ‘I just don’t follow it since Dale.’ That answer might even bring tears to the eye of your questioner.
Just remember we’ve got 2 Winston Cup (don’t refer to it as Nextel, no self respectin’ Southerner does) races in Richmond every year. One in May and the other in September. The Monday after those weekends, don’t be goin’ into work and complainin’ about RV traffic or askin’ why there were so many ostrich feathered cowboy hat wearin’ folks in town over the weekend. It’s just disrespectful of the King and we ain’t talkin’ about Elvis.