Ethyl comments: stereotypes

Contrary to what some people who live above the Mason-Dixon line may think, it is possible to find people in Mississippi who have a full set of teeth in good condition, the ability to articulate an entire sentence in one mouthful, and wonder of wonders, the vast majority of them can even read and write more than their own name. Ninety seven percent of the homes even have indoor plumbing. So what if some of those homes are double wides. Most of them are situated on beautiful lots with actual trees where you can wake up in the morning and hear the birds sing, not concrete paved lots with crummy apartment buildings. And don't fall out at this revelation, but we even have paved roads to drive on. We don't all live in one room log shacks or smoke corncob pipes, or set on our front porches in rocking chairs waiting to see who the next stranger is coming up the road.

So what if we like our food fried. Fried squash, fried okra, fried green tomatoes, fried chicken, fried pork chops. Any idiot knows everything taste better fried. You can eat just about anything if you fry it first. Any day of the week we can take a little flour and a little buttermilk and some lard and make the best biscuits you ever put in your mouth. We southerners figured out a long time ago how to take virtually nothing and make a meal that taste so good you want to write home about it.

Which brings me to my next grip. Whenever we have any type of natural disaster down here, and may I add, in the spring that is quite often during tornado season, those dudes from the national news agencies come south to interview a 'typical' southerner. And almost always the person they pick will be a woman with three strands of hair pulled up on top of her head in a little knot, a butt the size of New Hampshire, two teeth in front, wearing brogans and a dirty apron.

"Mam, could you tell me what happened".

"Well, I ben arning all day and I was so tared that I decided to mosey on out on the front porch and look for a cher to sat in and then I seed it coming across the field over yonder. Yes sir re, it was a full blown tornadey and it was heding stright toward Lou Ellar's house and all I could think of was she's got my tater salat bowl".

"Thank you very much, mam. And that is the latest news from the tiny town of Tishomingo, Mississippi. We are on the scene here in this tiny town and you have just heard this report from one of their local citizens".

I always wonder how long they had to scour the countryside to find that one 'perfect candidate' to interview. After all, they would never want to let anything get in the way of their preconceived notions about the south.