Approximately two years ago, via the internet, I met a person I shall call "Marc Antony" who is a self-described escapee from the south, now residing well above the Mason-Dixon Line in "damn Yankee" territory...and thus began what will positively be a loving and lifelong friendship.
Our initial phone conversations bubbled over with comparisons of growing up in a city as opposed to southern country life, and since we were both little rebels, we laughed until we cried. Literally. Then, one night, I innocently said to Marc, "Wow, I'd love to tour the south some day" at which point my dear and funny friend burst out, "ARE YOU INSANE?? YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE ASKING FOR!!" followed by a 'virtual tour' that had him apoplectic, and me gasping for air and screaming with laughter.
Mimicking me, he said "So you'd love to tour the south, would you? Here, let me save you the trip. First of all, you're heading into Bible Belt country and all that entails...proselytizing hypocrites who hold what are known as revival meetings, where children ~ I know, I was one of them ~ are dragged by their Jesus Groupie parents for an entire day of Preacher Blowhard's endless sermon. When you're seven years old, that can give a kid really good reason to start hating their guts, disregarding all the other BS they deliver in their shaky-from-emotion-but-oh-so-righteous voices."
At which point, Marc began imitating a southern preacher, complete with sermon, and I could swear I was listening to Jimmy Swaggart.
"OHHH LAWD, HELP THESE SINNERS DOWN HERE ON EARTH, PRAISE THE LAWD, THANK YOU JESUS! I'M PRAYING FOR THEIR SORRY SOULS!"
"Continuing on your tour, my dear, how do you like those bumper stickers that say I'D RATHER BE SHOOTING YANKEES? Don't open your mouth or you'll be target practice. And all those Confederate flags you see around you? Charming, aren't they? That's because they're proud of the hurritage, as they pronounce it. WHAT heritage?? Slavery, ignorance, racism, what seems like a collective IQ of 50 for the entire southern region, greedy lazy people who became wealthy off the backs of people they owned??
Oh, and they just love their 'traditions' ~ tea time and gossip, bridge games and gossip, and they are just wild about names. If their ancestors were involved in the 'War of Northern Aggression' (to all educated people, the infamous Civil War) well, that just gives them a downright case of the vapors, darlin'!
The division of class in the American south is still glaringly obvious, and best represented by the inevitable question, 'WHERE ARE YOUR PEOPLE FROM, YOUNG MAN?'
If your name happens to land in the vaulted Civil War category of names ~ from Lee to Davis and everyone in between ~ they will welcome you with open arms. If not, you'll hear the sweetest 'Oh, bless his po' little heart!' which, in reality, translates to 'go fuck yourself' although they'll never say it outright. No, it's all sugar and cream, honey and molasses for those southern belles!"
By this point, I was so convulsed with laughter, I had to ask Marc to please stop the 'virtual tour' because I could no longer contain myself. I am, however, still treated to spontaneous outbursts of real southern charm whenever Marc remembers his experiences growing up.
Marc concludes, "If you EVAH do decide to tour the south, please don't expect Scarlett O'Hara or her descendants (real or imagined) flouncing around in their antebellum gowns..."
He ain't whistlin' Dixie, either!!
