The Southerner's Rules

Corrine has a wonderful list of rules that they have down South.
I understand them and I agree with them.

I'm a lifelong Northerner (yup, I'm a Yankee), but I love the South. I've spent quite a bit of time down South while traveling. When you wave to a Southerner, he waves back with all five fingers.

The people down South are friendly, helpful and they know how to have a good time. I'm talking good clean fun. The best kind there is!

I've been to both the Carolinas, Tennessee, Alabama, Mississippi and I've spent quite a bit of time in Georgia. I was having lunch in a diner in Brunswick one time. The waitresses and the rest of the help were the kindest people you will ever meet. I mentioned to one waitress that I'd never tasted grits before and didn't even know what they were. Well that put her on a mission, she made up her mind that I was going to try grits. They are alright, but while I was trying them, I mentioned to her how lovely I thought her accent was. That brought the whole restaurant down on me. They kindly explained that they did not have an accent, I did!

I broke down on my Harley in South Carolina one time. I was riding through the Blue Ridge Mountains. My rear wheel bearings had locked up and it was a Labor Day afternoon with nothing open. I knew I'd have to haul it home, but it was an eight hour wait for a friend with a pickup to drive down and rescue me. I was in for a long wait on a hot day in the mountains.

I was just settling in under a shade tree when a fella from a farm close by came walking over. He said his name is Tom, and we exchanged ‘howdys’. I explained to him why I was there. He nodded and invited me to wait at his home. Thanking him, we pushed the big bike to his place and he told me to put it in his barn so he could take me sight seeing and visiting. It was a holiday after all.

We jumped into his pickup while his wife was scolding him with, “Don’t you head over to Bill's place now”. He nodded to her and we headed into the mountains. We stopped at several of his friend's places, beautiful mountain cottages, and these strangers welcomed me and offered me food and drink. I had some real Southern corn bread, real chili, bean soup that you could get rich on, if you were so inclined, hand squeezed lemonade and deep fried everything. These were the nicest, friendliest people I have ever met. This was also easily some of the best food I have ever tasted. These people had never met me before and had no idea who I was. But they talked to and treated me like an old friend. They could see that I was bewildered by their generosity and they would turn to each other with a smile and say, “He must be a Northerner”.

I was feeling a little bit guilty for eating so much of their food, so I asked one fella there, "Who's food is this?"
"Don't rightly know", is what he said.
"I don't understand, you don't know where the food came from?", I asked.
"It came from the Lord", he replied.
"Well, since I ate some, I just wanted to pay back the person who bought it", I explained.
"Can't help ya there. This food ain't for sale", is what he said.
"I just wanted to pull my own weight", I explained.
He said, "If we didn't want you to have it, we wouldn't have offered it to you. If we wanted to sell it to you, we'd put a for sale sign on it".
"I understand. Thank you", I said, smiling.
"Well, you're mighty welcome there fella. We're just hospitible folks", is how he finished it.
Southern hospitality, there it is.


We would sit in the ‘parlor’ and they would play music. Dulcimer, fiddle, a banjo and a couple of instruments that I still don’t understand. One man was blowing and tapping on a jug. Another had special 'spoons' with special case and all. These people were good! The music they made was haunting, like it came from a hundred years ago. I felt like I was on an old TV show, but this is how they would entertain themselves. It was, after all, a holiday.

It was getting late, Tom said to the people at the last place we had visited. It was time to leave, in his opinion. Saying our goodbyes, we got back in the pickup. We headed almost straight up one of the mountains on what might loosely be called a road. I've seen better developed cowpaths. At the top was an old, abandoned service station. Bill’s place, I wondered to myself?

“You a drinking man?”, he asked me.
“Only when I’m awake”, I answered.
“You ain’t never drank till you had some of Bill’s sauce”, he said.
Yep, Bill’s place.

We went in and I met Bill. Bill showed me the finest, most well maintained still I had ever seen. I haven't seen many, but this was one shiny, gleaming contraption. He handed me a Mason jar half full of the crystal clear liquid. I was about to taste it when Bill stopped me.
“Ya got ta cut it with spring water”, he taught me.
I’m glad he pointed that out. Half shine and half water, it still tasted like jet fuel. But a good jet fuel. I quipped to him something about this sauce having been a good year.
“Every year’s a good year with Molly here”, he answered and stroked ‘Molly’.

We drank, we talked, we laughed and Bill offered me one of his ‘homemade cigarettes’. Weed, I thought. But I didn’t want to insult my host so I took it. Nope, not weed. It was a real homegrown cigarette! And it was strong! We continued talking, we smoked, we laughed some more and we pissed from the top of a mountain.

Too soon it was time to go. We headed back to Tom’s place. I mentioned something about drinking and driving.
Tom said, “Technically speakin‘, this ain’t a road”.
"Well, good then", I responded, and hoped he wouldn’t drive us right off the mountain. He didn’t.

We arrived back at his place and his wife said, “You were at Bill’s, I kin smell the shine and the terbacky”.
Tom just nodded.
Lovely woman. Seriously! Beautiful and kind, a good woman, I could tell.

My ride arrived, Tom helped us load the big bike and I prepared to leave. I went to shake Tom’s hand and I handed him on of my business cards and said, "Here is my number if you ever want to call me".
He smiled a thousand watt smile and said, "Trust, I like that”.
Then he ran into his house like a schoolboy to find something to write his number on for me. He gave me his number and I waved to him as we left those beautiful mountains behind us.

These people wanted nothing from me except my company. They made sure I was well and watered. They entertained me in their own homes. And I was a stranger.

Know anyone up North that does that? I'm a Northerner and I don't.

I’ve got to get back there sometime soon!

Anyway, here is Corrine’s story. Believe it!
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The 'Rules of the South' are as follows!!!
1. Pull your droopy pants up. You look like an idiot.
2. Turn your cap right, your head isn't crooked.
3. Let's get this straight; it's called a "gravel road." I drive a pickup truck because I want to. No matter how slow you drive, you're going to get dust on your Lexus. Drive it or get out of the way.
4. They are cattle. That's why they smell to you. They smell like money to us. Get over it. Don't like it? I-40 goes east and west, I-65 goes north and south. Pick one.
5. So you have a $60,000 car. We're impressed. We have $250,000 cotton strippers that are driven only 3 weeks a year.
6. So every person in the south waves. It's called being friendly. Try to understand the concept.
7. If that cell phone rings while a bunch of doves are coming in, we WILL shoot it out of your hand. You better hope you don't have it up to your ear at the time.
8. Yeah, we eat catfish & crawfish. You really want sushi & caviar? It's available at the corner bait shop.
9. The "Opener" refers to the first day of deer season. It's a religious holiday held the closest Saturday to the first of November.
10. We open doors for women. That is applied to all women, regardless of age.
11. No, there's no "vegetarian special" on the menu. Order steak. Or you can order the Chef's Salad and pick off the 2 pounds of ham & turkey.
12. When we fill out a table, there are three main dishes: meats, vegetables, and breads. We use three spices: salt, pepper, and ketchup! Oh, yeah.... We don't care what you folks in Cincinnati call that stuff you eat... IT AIN'T REAL CHILI!! (And that stuff that you eat, with sugar in it and tastes like cake, ain't real cornbread. No self respecting Southerner puts sugar in cornbread ).
13. You bring "coke" into my house, it better be brown, wet and served over ice. You bring "Mary Jane" into my house, she better be cute, know how to shoot, drive a truck, and have long hair.
14. College and High School Football is as important here as the Lakers and the Knicks, and a dang site more fun to watch.
15. Yeah, we have golf courses. But don't hit the water hazards -- it spooks the fish.
16. Colleges? We have them all over. We have State Universities, Universities, and Vo-techs. They come outta there with an education plus a love for God and country, and they still wave at everybody when they come home for the holidays.
17. We have more folks in the Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines. So don't mess with us. If you do, you will get whipped by the best.
18. The south is the greatest!! If you are from the south you are part of the best people in the USA!!