25. Hair Spray–“The Higher the Hair, the Closer to God”

15 Feb

Southern girls have been rocking the hair spray since long before the folks in 80’s hair bands were even born. And they’re still rocking it long after said bands have hit the $1.99 CD bin.

I’m not sure where the maxim “The higher the hair, the closer to God” originated, but I’m here to tell you that many Southern girls consider it gospel truth. In fact, statistics show that 83% of all hair spray sales come from the Bible Belt. Ok, I just made that up, but it seems pretty accurate.

Since debutante balls are on the decline, a Southern girl’s rite of passage is the receipt of her very own can of Aqua Net. Surely by now they’ve come up with an environmentally friendly aerosol can, not that folks are greatly concerned. I mean, what’s a little hole in the ozone layer compared to the tragedy of flat hair?

Fortunately for hair spray peddlers, a Southern girl rarely kicks her dependence on this sticky styling solution. Yes, there comes a day when maintaining big hair becomes too much of a chore, but that’s right about the time folks transition into helmet head. And if there’s anything that requires more hair spray than big hair, it’s the permanently immobile helmet head look. And if you don’t know what I’m talking about, well, be very glad.

Visit the hair care aisle in your local Walmart, and you’ll be overwhelmed by the array of hair spray features available: Volumizing. Moisture resistant. Comb thru. And, of course, everyone’s favorite: extra hold. As if there’s any hair spray out there that features “regular hold.”

While there are plenty of pump-style hair sprays, Southern girls tend to prefer the good old-fashioned aerosol variety. If only because they can’t be easily tampered with. Case in point: Years ago, one of my Southern friends was perplexed when her salon brand hairspray suddenly lost its “extra hold.” After a bit of detective work, she discovered that her boyfriend had added water to the bottle so it would “last longer.” In fact, it did last longer, seeing as she never used it again. Note to penny pinchers: too much aqua equals not enough net.

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24. Crock-pots, the Best Thing Since Boxed Cheese

8 Feb

Why do Southern people love Crock-Pots? Two words: Rotel dip. Sure, this kitchen appliance is handy for making stew, chili, soup, whatever, but for Rotel, well, it’s indispensable. If you’re wondering why, my guess is you’ve never tried cold Rotel dip. Heed these Johnny Cochran-esque words of wisdom: if the Velveeta isn’t hot, step away from the Rotel pot.

Now, if you’re balking at Velveeta, you may want to steer clear of Southern get-togethers on general principle. American cheese (or cheese-like substance) tends to play an active role in everything from Rotel dip to piggies.

Crock-Pots also make a mean batch of barbequed meatballs or lil smokies. Only problem is transporting your Crock-Pot to the party and returning home unscathed or unscalded. Even though Crock-Pots are fairly sturdy, they’re not indestructible, so be careful who you lend your Crock-Pot to.

Case in point: My sister’s husband took her Crock-Pot to work once and failed to return it in one piece (or actually two pieces since it was one of the new-fangled “removable stoneware” types). Of course, he never heard the end of this. Probably still hasn’t. She was nagging him about when he was going to replace her Crock-Pot, and he said was planning to buy her a new one for Christmas.

Now I love Shawn, but have to side with my sister on this one: Wrong answer! Or as they say in the South “That dog won’t hunt.”

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23. Sonic: In-Car Dining at its Finest

8 Feb

I I once had a friend in California who was telling me about this magical, mystical place she was planning to visit with her daughter: “You park your car, and they bring the food out, and you eat in the car.”

Me: “What? Sonic?”

For the uninitiated, perhaps Sonic offers a certain nostalgic charm. Kind of like you’re an extra on the set of “American Graffiti,” without all that god-awful 50s music. But, me, I’ve been going to Sonic since before I’d even heard of “Happy Days,” so the novelty has long since worn off. I mean, they don’t even come out on roller skates anymore. Still, I must admit, it’s hard to visit the South without stopping by Sonic at least once. Although my visits have been far less frequent now that they’ve done away with the Frito Pie.

Truth be told, Sonic’s food isn’t all that special. But the drinks…Hoo boy! First off, all the fountain drinks are served with crushed ice. And not the kind of half-assed crushed ice you get out of a side-by-side refrigerator. Sonic’s ice is about half way to sno-cone consistency.

Next up: flavors. They claim to feature 168,894 possible flavor combinations, but I imagine about 168,794 of them would be pretty nasty (Lemon/chocolate root beer? Orange/grape Dr. Pepper?). Still. They’ve got all manner of limeades, slushes, flavored teas, coffee drinks, and smoothies. Plus, they’ve got a bunch of flavors you can add to soft drinks (known generically as Cokes throughout the South. As in…Q: “What kind of Coke do you want?” A: “Sprite.”). I am partial to Coke with vanilla flavoring, in case you’re wondering what to order for me.

They’ve also got some pretty tasty shakes, although I don’t consider shakes a “drink” so much as a “dessert.” Save room. I’ve yet to try one of their floats or Creamslush® concoctions, but I’m adding that to my list of adventures to have.

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22. Family Reunions (Keeping Up with the Kinfolks)

29 Jan

Since I don’t have family on the West coast, I can’t really determine whether Southerners have more family reunions than other folks. But I’ve yet to see an official family reunion tee shirt in Seattle, so I’m going out on a limb here.

There are only two requirements for a Southern family reunion: 1. family and 2. food. Preferably less of the former and more of the latter. Some families also require alcohol, but you’ve got to be careful: Too little and folks may want to kill each other. Too much and people actually might. See shotguns.

For kids, family reunions can be a lot of fun once you get past all those old folks pinching your cheeks and telling you they haven’t seen you since you were “thiiiiis high.” You get to hang out with cousins who teach you new and better cuss words and adult supervision tends to be at an all-time low: “You kids still breathing? Carry on then…”

For adults, however, family reunions are often approached with a mix of anticipation and dread (the proportion of each often depends on how well one has stayed within her Weight Watchers points). And pity the poor soul who’s volunteered to host the reunion: the whole house has to be scoured/decluttered. Because your family doesn’t stop at peeking in your medicine cabinet; they snoop in closets and under the bed, as well. Note: hide the prescription meds and pricy jewelry.

If you make it through the day without name calling, hurt feelings, or fist fights…If no one storms off in the middle of festivities vowing to never come back… are you sure you’re family? No, seriously. Are you sure?

You may be asking yourself, “If family reunions are that bad, why do people go?” Simple: If you don’t go, they’ll talk about you. None too kindly either. And inevitably, some concerned family member will tell you what all was said. And then there will be hurt feelings/angry proclamations without the benefit of banana pudding and chicken casserole. And that’s just sad.

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21. Birdhouses–for Decoration, not Shelter

29 Jan

If you go to any artsy/crafty show in the South (and I HIGHly recommend you do), you will no doubt run across a fair amount of decorative birdhouses. Some are designed to hang in trees, but more often they’re attached to some sort of stake that folks stick in the ground. And you’d be hard pressed to find a lone birdhouse in anyone’s yard. They multiply like tattoos on a hipster…

There’s this house down the road from my dad’s place that has probably 20 birdhouses planted in a row in the front yard. I’ve often thought of stopping to take a photo, but on the one hand I don’t want to be conspicuous and on the other hand I just can’t be bothered to pull over. You’ll just have to take my word for it. Or take a drive down the Florence/Byram road and see for yourself.

Years ago, my mom got swept up in the birdhouse craze, and I must confess that I contributed to her rapidly growing collection. One day she calls me up and says, “You know that bird house you gave me last year for Mother’s Day? Well, I was planting some impatiens next it and the top of it just fell off. I looked down in there and there was a BIRD’S NEST in it!”

Me: “Um, yeah. It’s a birdhouse. What do you expect?”

Mom: “It’s MY birdhouse. It’s not for those BIRDS to go around making nests in. I took the nest out, but the other day I was out there and I saw a BIRD fly out of it!”

Me: “Well, if you don’t want birds in there, you’ll have to cover the hole so they can’t get in.”

Mom: “But then it wouldn’t look as pretty.”

Point taken.

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20. Tote-Sum Stores (‘Cause We’re All About Convenience)

29 Jan

One day my sister calls me up and says, “Do you know what a tote-sum store is?”

I say, “Duh, it’s like a 7-11.”

“Shawn has never heard of a tote-sum!” She never ceases to be amazed that her husband is neither A. a Southerner or B. a democrat. But I digress…

Upon researching this post, I was surprised to discover that most folks outside of the Jackson, MS, area likely haven’t heard of a tote-sum either. Seems that there was once a small chain of actual “Tote-sum” stores, whose name was so catchy that it quickly became synonymous with any local convenience store.

These days across the South, tote-sum stores are quickly being usurped by big name gas stations that have joined forces with Domino’s, Taco Bell, and the like. So now you can get gas and, um, gas at the same place. But back in the day, you’d find all kinds of food-like substances at the local convenience store: Icees, fried chicken, boiled peanuts, donuts, and the ever-popular “tater logs.”

Sure, maybe the restrooms at those chain places are a little less frightening. Perhaps the shelves are dusted a little more regularly. Maybe the dairy products are rotated a little more frequently, but I still have a soft spot for a good, old-fashioned tote-sum store.

When I was growing up, my sister and I would walk up to Bernie’s where we could get chips, candy, and bottled Cokes just for signing our names on a slip of paper. It was a perilous journey (maybe a mile in the summer heat along a road without sidewalks. Uphill. Both ways.) but that just made the snacks that much more tasty.

Eventually, the credit system was replaced by an actual cash register (or maybe Dad put the kibosh on our too-frequent charges), but still we’d save up quarters and waste countless afternoons playing Ms. Pac Man.

About a year ago, one of those slick new gas/fast food joints popped up about a block from my childhood home. I haven’t been in there, so I can’t say what it’s like. But there aren’t any old men out front playing dominoes, so that’s probably a bad sign.

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19. Frito Pie: Easy, Delicious & Low-Cal (2 out of 3 ain’t Bad)

29 Jan

It’s no secret that Southern folks are fond of casseroles, preferably those involving cream of something soup, but there’s one Southern delicacy y’all yankee types might have missed out on: Frito Pie.

Frito Pie doesn’t have a crust, and you won’t encounter any Cool Whip (one hopes), so I’m not sure how it came to be known as “pie.” (But then my mom’s cranberry “salad” features not one item commonly found in a garden, so I figure Southern recipe names are sort of arbitrary.)

Do not be tricked into accepting a soggy substitute such as “Doritos Casserole” or “Tostitos Stuffing.” Frito Pie can only be made with the crunch-retaining magic of Fritos. I must admit, it was a sad day when I discovered Sonic no longer traffics in Frito Pies. Chili-cheese tater tots will suffice in a pinch, but they lack a certain something. Namely Fritos.

Since you’re unlikely to encounter Frito Pie east of Texas or north of Tennessee, I’ll give you the basic recipe:

Frito Pie

Some chili

A bag of Fritos

Tons of cheese

Put the Fritos in a casserole dish. Top with chili and cheese. Bake at 350 degrees till nice and bubbly.

You could also add ground beef, onions, and jalapenos if you wanted to be extra fancy.

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18. Pick-up Trucks: Tonka Toys for Grownups?

29 Jan

One good thing about living in the South is that you always know at least half a dozen folks with pick-up trucks in case you need to haul something somewhere. Even better, most folks are happy to help. I can’t quite explain the popularity of the pick-up because I figure that about 90% of the time 90% of pick-up drivers aren’t hauling anything anywhere. But then again, you can’t have a proper tailgating party without a tail gate, so maybe that’s reason enough. Besides, it’s hard to outfit a Volkswagon Beetle with a gun rack…

These days, my 5-year-old nephew must be properly strapped in his car seat before we leave the driveway, and I’m all the time reminding my sister that when we were five, we rode around in the back of pick-ups on a fairly regular basis. “Yeah, well, that was then, this is now,” she’ll say like an S.E. Hinton novel.

Driving in the South, you’ll see all sorts of things hauled around in pick-ups: firewood, mattresses, watermelons, four wheelers, dogs, whatever. I once worked for a small town newspaper, and during hunting season, folks would drive up wanting me to take a picture of the dead deer in the back of their truck. They figured it was news. And sadly, the town was small enough that sometimes it was.

The weirdest thing I’ve ever seen hauled in a pick-up was a dead Holstein. I had to ask myself 1: Where are they taking a dead dairy cow? And 2: How’d they get it into the back of that pick-up? I still have no answers…

Do you drive a truck? What’s the strangest thing you’ve ever had the occasion to haul?

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17. Air Conditioning: Don’t Stay Home in August without It

29 Jan

Folks back home are shocked to hear that I (along with most folks and businesses in Seattle) do not have air conditioning. The horror! The horror!

The thing is, Seattle gets unbearably hot for about two or three days a year, but in many parts of the South, the heat starts up in April and sticks around till October. (One of the reasons I love the state fair so much is that it almost always marks the transition into cooler temperatures. Hence the term “fair weather.”)

I am truly a child of the late 20th century and cannot even fathom how folks in the South could tolerate summers without air conditioning. Wearing hoop skirts and petticoats! Heck, I can’t even fathom how folks today go outside in business suits and/or pantyhose anytime after May. (A good argument for self-employment if I’ve ever heard one.)

Southern folks are not known for moving at a particularly rapid pace, but perhaps you’ve never seen them in the summer. It’s always a mad dash from the comfort of an air-conditioned car to the safety of an air-conditioned house. And by “safety” I mean safety. People die out there in the heat. Or wish they would.

One summer I was at my parents’ house when the air conditioner went on the blink. Within minutes, my mom and I were packed and headed to the family’s cabin on the Pearl River. Normally, I wouldn’t be all that enthused about spending time in the cabin, but that day we couldn’t get there quickly enough.

For the first few hours there, my mom and I lay on the bed underneath the air conditioner reveling in the glory of an icy cool breeze. I only wish I’d known at the time how precious that moment was. I’d be willing to endure any number of summers in the South if my mom were there with me. I’d love to hear her just one more time say, “It’s hotter than HELL!” (pronounced “Hey-You’ll.”)

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16. Catfish (The “Deep-Fried” is Implied)

29 Jan

Ok, a lot of these posts feature food (or drink), and I reckon you can guess why: We Southerners loves us some food. Hey, Mississippi didn’t get to be the fattest state in the US for nothing!

So while folks here in Seattle are swooning over salmon, my peeps back home are loyal to the good old-fashioned fried catfish. With hushpuppies (which one of my Seattle friends mistakenly called “puff daddies.” Of course, the name stuck).

Though I now regularly buy organic produce and “hippie eggs,” I’m still of the opinion that farm-raised catfish is the way to go. Sure, maybe wild catfish live happier lives, but they are notorious bottom feeders. For me, eating free-range catfish would be akin to munching on a fried vulture. Ick. As an aside, when I lived in LA, I was extolling the virtues of farm-raised catfish to a work friend who said, “Farm-raised? I thought it was a fish!”

There’s a reason I’m writing this blog, people.

Now if you happen to be in the South and are itching to try some catfish, I recommend Jerry’s in Florence, MS. Not necessarily because it’s the best, but because it may be the one and only place you’ll eat catfish in an igloo. Yes, I said igloo.

Jerry's Fish House, Florence, MS

It’s been a long time since I’ve been there, and I can’t really remember whether the catfish or hushpuppies are anything special. But it’s one of few places where I, an avowed fish hater, will actually eat fish.

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