Southernfolk talk different

Growing up, my dad used to use funny idioms that I'd never heard anywhere else, and since his mom is Southern and my mom is not, I just assumed that's where they came from. One I remember is "You better be over here in two shakes of the lammy's tail." This meant very quickly. Evidently, lammies shake their tails so quickly that they can shake them twice before whatever instant you need to deal with is at hand. I'm pretty sure there is another one, but I can't think of what it is. I have lived in the Real South (as my loyal readers know, I grew up in Florida, which is like the bicurious state) since 2004 now, and have yet to hear any of them come out of any other Southern mouths. So I can only conclude that my dad is an amazing idiomologist and made them up.

There are, however, a number of colloquialisms that I have come across that are worthy of sharing. You will, of course, find them listed and discussed below in my favorite and noblest of all lists: the numbered list.

1. Show [one's] tail - The first time I heard this one, I actually had to ask for an explanation. I have not heard this one outside of rural South Carolina yet, so it might be unique to there and not Southern at large. It has nothing to do with nudity or discovery of morphological changes in humans, to my disappointment. How great would it be if they discovered lizard people in the Upstate of South Carolina? Clemson's swim team would win all kinds of national championships. It actually means to misbehave, as in, "After eating several pixie sticks, the State Senators really showed their tails."
2. Cut on - This is the phrase that made me want to write this entry. This one bothers me for aesthetic purposes. It doesn't sound right. This is the opposite of (obviously) cut off, as in "Cut off the woodchipper, he's already dead." Cut off should be obnoxious too, since it doesn't really make sense either, but it gets a pass because cutting off and termination kind of make sense, even though cutting off a light switch is not really that permanent or serious of a change. I do feel strongly though that you should not be able to cut on anything.
3. Might could - These are two linking verbs. I know that because in seventh grade Mrs. Adair made us memorize all of the linking verbs in the English language via a cute little song that I will never forget ever. The thing about verbs like that, though, is that two of them can't follow each other in a sentence, with the exceptions of am/is/are/was/were and being. No other combinations are possible, including might could. This means might be able to, and I grit my teeth every time I hear someone say this. An example of this being used in a sentence is "I might could help you with your math homework, but you have to take off your shirt first." (In this example, the speaker is talking to a girl [who is over 18]. The speaker can be whichever gender you prefer.)
   
4. Stay - This one isn't so much a phrase as it is a word. That's ok, though. It means live. As in, "No, I don't stay in this refrigerator box. Thanks for asking." This one, though, isn't really quite as aggravating or funny as the others, but it's still unusual. Like a cat who barks or a complete sentence coming from Rep. Corrine Brown. I am also told that this is restricted to a subset of Southerners who are also black, which is consistent with my very scientific observations.

I really wish I could remember the other prolific one that my dad would say because it would really make the intro stronger and it's really weird. Feel free to share any regionalisms you have encountered, and point out the region. The stranger the better!

Where's the third ring?

I'm pretty sure I'm not crazy on this one: I don't understand the Family Circus. I don't mean that it looks like Greek letters and alien shapes, I recognize that it's a comic composed of images and dialogue intended to portray a scene or story, but I can't figure out what the Family Circus's motivation or appeal is. It's not really a story. Is it because I don't have children? Is that why it seems like a waste of newspaper ink to me?

Let me clarify, though, that the Family Circus is not as maddeningly offensive as, say, Frank and Earnest. It's just confusing. Why is this comic so universally popular? Am I on crazy pills? Let me cite an example that I found on the family circus website, which if this blog ever gets readership I will probably have to take down or risk being sued:


When I say I don't understand it, it's not that I don't know what it's saying, even though for a Floridian the concept of icy sidewalks is about as familiar as tse tse flies biting Bengal Tigers while aborigines watch while playing the accordion. I have conceptual understanding that ice forms in the winter on sidewalks and it's slippery, increasing the risk of falling, or sliding, if you will. I get the "joke." Only, it's not a joke. This is a bad pun dressed up as cute because a child (presumably his?) said it. Aww, adorable. No. This is a newspaper. There is no room for adorable, Trixie Flagston aside.

I want to know who it is that looks for this everyday. I want to know if having children will make this comic seem less like something only boring people enjoy to something I look for all the time. If enjoying Family Circus is what I have to look forward to in parenthood, I am going to never stop drinking Mountain Dew.

All hail my feet

Isn't it weird how different some surfaces that you walk on every day feel on bare feet? Like how completely different your car accelerator feels? I heard somewhere that it was illegal to drive with bare feet, but I kind of like it. I like to live on the edge. Someday, you may see a "Wanted" poster featuring Engineer Sighted, for driving barefoot. I will be the second celebrity to have the nickname "Shoeless."

I was in a rather long car ride today, and I found myself taking off my shoes, because as I am pretty sure I have mentioned this before repeatedly, but I hate wearing shoes. I prefer flip flops, and even then, it's iffy. The floor mats of the automobile in which I was riding was one of those new/old surfaces. They felt kind of fun. I, fortunately, got to avoid wearing shoes for most of the weekend because I managed to return to my homeland, Florida. We shy away from shoes down there in the same way that Britney does underwear. Beaches and sand are not conducive to shoes, you see. Sand gets pretty much in everything, and the fewer crevices, the better. That might be good advice all the time.

I decided to make take this trip because a week and a half ago my car got smashed by hail. It was like that scene in the iconic Apple commercial. They were like tennis balls falling from the sky. There is nothing good that comes from things that are colder than 65 degrees Fahrenheit, unless it comes in a glass. I had no car or way to get to work, so why not go to the beach? I thought so too. It was awesome. If I were here, I would have to wear all kinds of shoes.

But I'm back now. It's going to be a pretty hellacious transition, though, and I can't say that is going to be an enjoyable time. It's rather early and I am already ready to crash. I apologize for the "already ready" construction; I hate that almost as much as I do shoes. But right now, my bare feet are on the surface of my couch, and it's a nice feeling, so it is alleviating my concerns as I write this. I suggest you try it.

Sweet and delicious. I am probably going to weigh 900 pounds.

I have been thinking a lot about desserts lately. That's not to say I don't think about desserts a lot in ordinary circumstances, because I do. Like cake. But this was precipitated by a few other happenings, notably a coupon finding its way into my possession for an entire dollar off of two packages of Pillsbury's version of break and bake cookies. They are so handy, but a little dangerous because there's only so much willpower a person can have. I think I may have eaten an entire package over the past two days. I used to eat like six oreos a day, though, so I think I'm ok. Also, these all go with the drink of the gods, milk, rather well.

I was also thinking about key lime pies again. It's such a great dessert, and I want one. I just don't have any key limes. I even exhausted my supply of conventional limes today. I feel food naked. Key lime pie is undoubtedly the greatest of all pies, and I have been under fire for saying so. Challenges coming from such nonsense as strawberry rhubarb and cherry (you know who you are) make me really wonder if these people could identify a key lime in a lineup. Poppycock, I say! But I guess it's not all their fault, though, because if you do a google image search for key limes, most of the results are not actually key limes. These are key limes.


Aside from its complete and total deliciosity, though, there is more to love about key lime pie. For one thing, it's the state pie of Florida, a state which is probably better than yours. How many other states have state pies? According to wikipedia (if you believe them), two: Vermont and Oklahoma -- apple and pecan, respectively. I only have one word to say about that: lame. Actually, I have nothing against either pie, but apple is pretty ordinary. Also, apparently a state congressman wanted to fine people $100 if they mistakenly labeled a key lime pie as such if it did not, in fact, contain key lime juice. How awesome is that guy? I'll tell you: very. This paragraph has an awful lot of colons, and fortunately, not the gross ones. Here's what you can do: tell me something hilarious or awesome that your state has made official. Like, hopefully, the state pro wrestler of South Carolina is "Nature Boy" Ric Flair. It doesn't have to be factual! Just ask wikipedia!

The evil citrus

I don't understand grapefruit. It looks like a giant orange on the outside, which is a pretty good start. It even looks pretty nice on the inside, but it's all deception; not unlike a beautiful woman who turns out to have syphilis. Take a bite into what looks like a delicious fruity meal (at least compared to its citrus brethren) and you are shocked and amazed by how frighteningly terrible this actually is. What other fruit to people make a habit of adding sugar to in order to enjoy? Grossberries?

Now, as a Floridian, I have sworn an oath to protect and defend citrus. However, now that I am officially a Georgia resident I can finally speak out publicly. This doesn't change my opinions of the others; oranges, limes, tangerines and lemons are all still pretty great, although lemons are a little boring. Limes are, as always, underrated.

On a recent visit, my dad purchased grapefruit juice, because he was afraid the other items in my refrigerator were being unruly. Grapefruit juice is like the fridge warden. I decided this morning that I might give it a try with my breakfast because I neglected to purchase orange juice, the heavenly citrus juice, yesterday at the grocery store. It is an unforgivable oversight, really. But I couldn't do it. I've said this before and I'll probably say it many, many times in the future: grapefruit juice tastes like bile. It evokes in me the same reaction you get when you burp a little too hard and get some throw up in the back of your mouth. Not my idea of a good experience.

There is good news, though: I do still have limeade. While it's a little bit sugary for a juice, it's still citrusy and satisfied my need for an acidic morning. My throat is frequently dry when I wake up, and orange juice is that cure for that. Among other things. Like scurvy.

Plurals are tricky. If you're a second grader.

South Carolina is Braves country. It's also chewing tobacco country, which is really unfortunate. For a long time, actually, the entire Southeast was the territory of the Atlanta Braves. Florida, my homeland, got two teams in the past 15 years -- the Marlins (for which there was some initial confusion if they'd be known as the Florida or Miami Marlins) and the D-Rays, who are one of the lovably awful teams in sports. Like the Cleveland Browns in football or the United States in the World Cup. But aside from the Florida teams, the Nationals are the nearest team to the Palmetto State, but Southern folk are still a little leery of stuff that comes out of Washington.

Since I am going to become a Georgian shortly (Go Tblisi!), I feel like I need to pay more attention to the Braves. They're doing alright, since they just mad a bunch of trades. There is something about trades that make sports more exciting, isn't there? Anything: marbles, baseball cards, and children are all made more exciting when trading is involved.

Here's the thing, though, one of the important stats in the game of baseball, is, of course, the run batted in. For those of you who are uninitiated, a run batted in (or RBI) occurs when the batter, when up to bat, hits or "bats" in a runner. If there are more than one runner on base, say two, for example, these are called runs batted in. Notice which word is pluralized. So, when the abbreviation is pluralized, it should be RBI. Not RBIs. When some sportscaster says, "Andruw Jones led the Braves with two RBIs" I want to reach through the radio, grab him by the lapels and criticize his grammar. The spelling of Andruw wasn't up to him, so I'll let that slide. RBI is like sheep; it does not change when plurals are involved.

Also, just in general, when prepositional phrases are involved, the pluralization doesn't happen after the preposition. Forces of nature, wheels of fortune, powers of attorney. I don't know why this is so complicated. It's not like we're talking about the begging the question logical fallacy here.

Anyway, I think I need to become a Braves fan.

Invented by Terrorists: Mosquitoes

Wherever you go, people complain about the mosquitoes. The thing is, they're all wrong, except the Floridians and swamp people. The rest of you should simply smile and say, "Man, I'm glad the mosquitoes here don't organize." We have union mosquitoes down here, and they are angry at the other mosquitoes for taking their jobs.

The people in Indiana seemed to think that they had bug problems. They don't. When I was a freshman, local Hoosiers used to try to tell me with a straight face that you wanted to be careful near woods in the summer time. I did the polite thing and did not laugh in their faces. Think of it like this: somebody from Buffalo comes to see you, and you tell him that you're expecting a harsh winter with a lot of snowfall. The guy from Buffalo takes you at face value and gets his snow shovel and ski jacket ready. Eight inches of snow falls, and the locals are crying "Woe is me." The guy from Buffalo goes to the store in shorts, and is irate to find out that the stores are closed because of the snow.

That's how I feel about mosquitoes. As far as I'm concerned, the mosquito population in Indiana has been eradicated. Spending some time in South Carolina, I started thinking, "Maybe these guys can run with the big boys." Then I came home yesterday. It had been a long time since I had been down here in the summer (about a year, go figure) and I had simply forgotten. Granted, the Palmetto State looks like Biblical Plagues compared to the Midwest, but it's like go-karts versus the Daytona 500 down here.

Part of it is the rain. It tends to rain very heavily very quickly almost everyday in the summer. That is the same thing for mosquitoes as a bottle blond yelling out "I'm drunk!" at a frat party. The douchebags all come out. So, I hadn't even been out of the car in the Sunshine State for fifteen minutes before I was assaulted. If mosquitoes were tigers, I'd be dead by now. Hell, if the mosquitoes were angry kittens I'd be ripped to shreds. The next time you complain about bugs outside of Florida or a swamp, you better be getting infected with some sort of disease. Just ask yourself, Which Side are you on?