By now, many of you have already discovered the unique pleasures of the emergence of Brood XIX. For about the last month, the 13-year cicada has been coming up out of the soil to sing its song, do its thing, die off and come back in another 13 years. By around July 4, it’ll be … Continue reading Stop, listen, what’s that sound?
Tag: South
Baiting your own hook
For a moment I thought he was actually going to do it. With the early summer sun beating down on us, my two older sons, ages 10 and 6, and I prepped our fishing poles on the banks of Lake Hamburg. We had completed the sweaty job of putting up our tents and setting up … Continue reading Baiting your own hook
I’m just sayin’ bless his heart
The not-so-secret code of Southern passive aggressive speech is most fully realized in the simple phrase “bless his heart.” This quintessential put-down has become so cliché that every Southern sit-com from “The Andy Griffith Show” to “Designing Women” to “Evening Shade” has referenced it. What’s interesting is that “bless her heart” is being replaced. In … Continue reading I’m just sayin’ bless his heart
Call your Mommer ‘n ’em
As long as I can remember, my mother has been “Mom.” I’m sure when I was just a babbling little baby she started out as “Mama.” There was probably even a “Mommy” phase that ended at about the age of 8. It wasn’t until I got to college in Troy, Ala., that I routinely heard … Continue reading Call your Mommer ‘n ’em
My Easter bonnet
Some traditions die hard, and others, well, let’s just say they have a built-in expiration date. It has long been a tradition for people, particularly religious people, to purchase new clothes at Easter. It was Irving Berlin who immortalized the wearing of Easter bonnets in song after observing the annual Easter parade in New … Continue reading My Easter bonnet
It doesn’t smell the same
My Granny relished feeding her grandsons. I’m sure she would rather have been doing other things, but cooking took on a new pleasure when my brothers and I showed up each summer. The smell of your grandmother’s house is unique, and everyone with a Granny can smell it in their mind’s nose at the suggestion. … Continue reading It doesn’t smell the same
Bottle fed
A few weeks ago, Carla and I took the boys to see her parents in Sandersville. A welcomed retreat from the suburbs to small town Southern life, these trips are especially meaningful to the boys. In Sandersville, they get to enjoy life in a different way. On this particular visit, Nanny and Poppy had a … Continue reading Bottle fed
Pretty in pink
My general fashion rule for a sports coat is this: Navy only unless you’ve just won a golf tournament. As the 2011 Cherry Blossom Festival comes to a close this weekend in my former city of residence, Macon, Ga., I have been reminded of the proud tradition carried on by so many Macon patriarchs and … Continue reading Pretty in pink
A different sort of madness
I live in a sports-obsessed suburb of Atlanta. A nearby public park where I run boasts a number of youth sports activities, and on any given night or weekend, you will find a parking lot full of minivans and SUVs adorned with stickers and magnets representing more sports than you’ll find in the Olympic games. … Continue reading A different sort of madness
What to look for
Life in the New South demands a written record. That’s my premise. Growing up in Dallas-Fort Worth and central Florida did not instill in me a natural appreciation for all things Southern. That fascination, which sometimes borders on morbid curiosity, surfaced during my time as a features writer for The Macon Telegraph. During my first … Continue reading What to look for
New South Essays 