I live in the South. The rural South. I grew up on a dirt road. My parents did, too. One granddaddy was a mechanic and the other was a farmer. Neither of my parents or my aunts or uncles went to a traditional 4-year college. Hell, some of my uncles didn't even finish high school. Everything thing we had growing up, my parents worked for us to have it. What I'm trying to tell you is that I'm not one of those "silver spoon" Southern Belles. I don't have a pedigree a mile long and the only "debut" I ever made was in the first grade for my dance recital. You will not find expensive heirlooms, antique jewelry or my great-grandmothers wedding china in my house. Nope. Doesn't exist.
But I'm proud to be a Southerner and all that it encompasses. I choose to live here and am glad to raise my family here. But sometimes things happen to me, around me or I hear about things and I think, "Wow. That is RED. NECK."
It's kinda like one of my favorite jokes:
What's the difference between a Northern fairy tale and a Southern fairy tale? A Northern fairy tale starts out, "Once upon a time..." A Southern fairy tale starts out, "Y'all ain't gonna believe this sh*t..."
Some of it is just too funny to keep to myself so I'm going to share some of those moments with you under the title "YAGBTS"
(see punchline above). And boy, do I have a good first "YAGBTS" for you...
1 comment:
I debuted at a piano concert when I was in 2nd grade. Does that count? he he Can't wait to hear some YAGBTS stories.
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