southern by the grace of god

being out of the south for so long (ten years!) has changed some things about me…i don’t think i say ya’ll as much (especially not in professional situations), i’ve gotten slightly accustomed to cold weather (but i still don’t like it), and i don’t really yearn for crawfish and daiquiris like i did in my first few years away (but that doesn’t mean that i love them any less). but put me back in the south, even just for a few days, and i am reminded of all the incredible things about the south, the gulf coast in particular, that are so deeply ingrained in my being. there are so many subtle things that i forget all about until i’m back there, silly little things, like jeeps or ant hills and spanish moss, that totally slip my mind until they are in front of my face again. i wouldn’t give up living in dc to go back to new orleans any time soon, that is for sure. i love my life in the city and all the amazing things that are right at my fingertips, but being back home reminded me of all the things down south that are without comparison. like the sight of a shrimping boat being followed by seagulls, or how it feels when a flock of brown pelicans fly right over your head (those suckers have enormous wingspans!). things like the sugary sweet taste of a snoball on a warm day, or straining to see the outline of the superdome from the lakefront on the northshore. things like how your heart (or at least mine) sort of skips a beat when 5 pounds of hot boiled crawfish is put on the table in front of you, or the drawl that you didn’t even realize you missed until you start to hear it in your own voice, too. or the way that waitresses down south call everyone “darlin” or “hon,” and people ask how your moman’em are (yankee translation: how is your mother and your immediate family). it’s a very different way of life down there, and while i’m so happy to be where i am and have the opportunities i’ve had since leaving louisiana, visiting again makes me understand why the word “fierce” is so often used in describing the pride that southern people have in where they come from. i do love the south in a way i can’t explain. it still blows my mind that people here ask what king cake is, or if i’ve ever been to “the mardi gras.” and the idea of not getting together with your neighbors and eating crawfish by the pound, spread out on newspaper on someone’s fold up card table…that’s just weird to me. people up here don’t eat crawfish? what on earth is wrong with them? no second lining at your cousin’s wedding? what is a wedding without it? no all-nite drive-thru daiquiri stop on the way to your moman’em’s? what else am i supposed to drink then? no one has a gun rack in the back of their truck? what do they go huntin' with?

it took a while to adjust to moving north. you can argue that i'm technically still south of the mason dixon line, but that doesn't mean that i am off for the entire week of mardi gras, or that people up here think eating a mudbug is anything other than completely disgusting. it's just not the south. and i am glad for that. it makes me that much more thankful to be there, when i do get the chance to visit. in the words of the tattoo of the good ol boy i once dated, american by birth, southern by the grace of god. and really, there is no better way to put it than that.