Sofa...so good...

I love the slow lifestyle in the south. It is a way of viewing everything in a less hurried, less hassled, less time conscious frame of being. You can see this in the number of houses which have chairs, couches and even swings for sitting and relaxing after a long day of...well, bein' suthun.

This lovely home has gone that one step further, as many a suthunah is known to do, and put his old couch up on suspension for a front yard swing. It looks both scary and relaxing at the same time.

The Southern Women's Show

This last weekend was the annual Southern Women's Show, here in Nashville. They have several of these special "women's" events across the south every year. I've never gone to this event mainly because I am not a woman, but also becuase I've yet to feel that I am really SUTHUN. My wife and I have talked about this, and we can't really figure out what the show is for. WHat does one learn or SEE at these 'shows'?

From the title, one might expect that the information gleaned from the seminars and displays can help the truley Suthun Woman to be ...well...more Suthun. So, what kind of displays and information would you expect?

Could it be that you can learn how to use Duct Tape as pasties?


Can you find out more information on what to do when you find you're the last one at a party and no one left to help clean up?


Or finally, with the constant use of new materials and color schemes for weddings, a southern woman might want to know how to choose the proper colors so that one does not blend in with the suroundings.

...What is that kid looking at that would give him that expression?

Suthun Man's Car Alarm (and most anything else)

The true suthun man owns a dog. (Perhaps yet another reason that my membership has been delayed? Cats just don't seem to make it...) The real suthun man's best friend is a member of the family, it goes where they go, does what they do. Goin Fishin? Got the dog right here to keep away the critters. Goin to the store? Got the 'car alarm' right here to look after the stuff in the truck bed.

It is noted herein, and ever more (don't ya love legal like language?) that those vile creatures who exile their dog to the back yard, or the car lot (we won't even go into those jerks who use dogs for fighting, and save that rant for someone better suited) should be hung with a length of chain and left to the wolves.

In our neighborhood we have now two of these wanna be suthunaz who own dogs. I use the term DOG here quite loosely as these little yappy stomachs on legs are in no way related to the type of dogs that a real suthun man has. Suthun Men go for Labradors, German Shepherd and the like - even the now well known Heinz 57. (Aka MUTT for those who are struggling with the phrase.) The dog's size being more important than the actual lineage. My neighbors have gone with the type of dog you can hear, but not see. They are so short and small that a blush of daisies will obscure them completely until they move. The one way to find them is to track their constant YAP-YAP-YAP...pant pant...YAP-YAP-YAP...pant pant...YAP-YAP-YAP...pant pant (I would type this out for a few lines, but just reading it puts my teeth on edge.) My lovely Wife is kept up most of the night by these little [expletive deleted for the sake of the children] and even calling and asking them to take care of the demonettes doesn't seem to stop it. They stop it at the time, but as soon as everyone is back in bed....YAP-YAP-YAP...pant pant...YAP-YAP-YAP...pant pant...YAP-YAP-YAP...pant pant...

And while I'm on to it, why is it that everyone in the neighborhood can hear these little rat-dogs when the owners are the closest and can't seem to hear a dog gone thing? Ok OK, enough of my ranting.

If you own one of those ...YAP-YAP-YAP...pant pant THINGS, treat it like your kids. TAke it in the house at night and put it to bed where no one can hear it. And during the day, send it away to dog school or something so we don't have to put up with that constant ...YAP-YAP-YAP...YAP-YAP-YAP... Or at least my wife doesn't have to put up with it.

Good Ol' Boys and the Good Ol' Boy Network

There is a phrase in the South that everyone knows and uses. (Heck, everyone in the English speaking world and then some knows and uses it!) It's the "Good Ol' Boys" and I've been trying to become a member for over 20 years. I may never be a "Good Ol' Boy" though I'm not sure why or why not. So, let's take today and discuss what it takes to become a Good Ol' Boy (and for the sake of my typing, we shall forever more refer to this membership in life as GOB, all in capital letters, kinda formal like....)

Being a GOB may actually be written in one's DNA, giving one the ability from birth to hunt (I cannot) drink beer (I could never get into the taste of beer) and connect with other GOBs in some secret and maybe even metaphysical way which allows them to fit in with society. My own endeavors (or lack thereof) in the GOB world may prove this theory out. 20 years of trying, still no cigar.

In writing this dissertation (OK, BLOG) I looked up to see what the internet might say about GOBs (not that the internet is such a fount of information on the GOB, but it was close, and easy and...did I mention close and easy?) Wikipedia says, "Good ol' boy," (note the lack of correct upper case "O" and "B" but I digress...I do that a lot....) "is a slang term used in the United States and Canada," (seriously? Canada?), "either to self identify" (wait, this is a self identification? Why didn't anyone tell me?) as or to refer to a male usually white and of Northern/Western-European descent, who lives in a rural area and/or subscribes to a traditionally rural lifestyle." Whew, what a mouthful. Reminds me of my school days. Now, I know a few GOBs who are not white, so I needed to look further.

My favorite description comes from Wiktionary. "A male friend or chum, especially a schoolmate; a man with an established network of friends who assist one another in social and business situations; a decent, dependable fellow." Now, THIS I can understand. Y'see, when I first got to the South, I had trouble finding good jobs due to what can only be called the "Good Ol' Boy Network." (aka: GOBN) Like Hollywood, it wasn't what you knew, but WHO you knew. It took me about 10-15 years to find the right job but then it was like gold. Getting that job was not because I had become a member of the GOBN, but because the number of GOB in business had become diluted with those from out of town in the the intervening years.

Can you recognize a GOB on sight? Probably not and yet you probably know a few or know OF a few GOBs yourself. When you drive through a small town, there are always a few guys sitting outside on a few chairs, watching the world go by. These are good ol boys. And a few of our celebrities are also GOBs. Waylon and Willie are Good Ol' Boys. Bill Clinton is a Good Ol' Boy. GW Bush not so much., George "Goober" Lindsey is a GOB and, of course, them Duke Brothers ("The Dukes of Hazzard") are Good Ol' Boys. (Not them Wanna Bee posers in the movie, I'm talking about the originals in the TV Show.)

It's ok that you can't pick them out of a lineup. I've lived in the south nearly half my life and I still can't easily discern them in a crowd. Maybe, one day, I can actually BE one of the Good Ol' Boys.