After going through Cub Scouts all the way from Bobcat to Webelos with my oldest son, Barron, I’m now re-entering the cycle with Harris, my middle son. Only this time, I’ve put myself on the sacrificial altar of den leadership. Planning and executing meetings and outings with my co-leader, Kathy, isn’t the hard part. The … Continue reading What’s your name?
Tag: Southern
An Afternoon with Clyde
“You’re dressed up,” Carla said from her chair in the playroom. She’s mocking me, but I don’t care. “If I get to meet the man, I don’t want to look like a hobo.” At a time when good, churchgoing people are sleeping off Sunday lunch, I head to the Decatur Book Festival to hear and … Continue reading An Afternoon with Clyde
Peeled or fuzzy?
There are some activities in my home that would appear odd to an outsider. Take my 2-year-old, for instance. It is not uncommon for him to walk past, pushing a chair or other piece of furniture. This indicates he is on a mission to scale some book case or reach the top shelf in order … Continue reading Peeled or fuzzy?
Are we there yet?
Summer road trips have been a part of the Southern landscape since rednecks first discovered their Riviera on the shores of the Gulf of Mexico. For nearly as long, parents have been looking for ways to entertain their children in the car on the way to the beach. We’re just past Independence Day, and my … Continue reading Are we there yet?
Patriotism … with lasers!
We moved to the Atlanta suburbs in March of 2003. When July 4th rolled around that first year, we naively thought we would just take the short, 10-minute drive to Stone Mountain to catch the fireworks. As it turned out, 20,000 other Atlantans had the same idea. The place was packed. We didn’t even get … Continue reading Patriotism … with lasers!
Stop, listen, what’s that sound?
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?
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
Y’all be sure and drive slow
Not all trends in the New South are welcomed by traditional Southerners with an appreciation for history. In fact, their voices tend to be among the loudest decrying the increasing recreationalization of Memorial Day. It’s hard to disagree with their case. I doubt very seriously that when Gen. John Logan proclaimed May 5, 1868, the … Continue reading Y’all be sure and drive slow
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
New South Essays 