From a terrific student column in today’s UVa Cavalier Daily:
MY PARENTS, my siblings and I were all born and raised below the Mason-Dix[on line]. We have a tendency to say “y’all,” never celebrate a holiday without fried chicken and according to my California roommate, cannot pronounce “nuclear.” Obviously, we are a southern family. So accordingly, we are a bunch of slack-jawed yokels, who sit on the porch of our house all day spitting tobacco juice and watermelon seeds while shining our guns, sipping moonshine, listening to the banjoes and planning the next KKK meeting. And of course my sister and I don’t date. She’s got a shotgun wedding next week with Cousin LeRoy, and me and my brother are fixin’ to get hitched once I graduate.
Sound a little extreme? It probably wouldn’t if you were a Democratic presidential nominee….
….
It may come as a surprise to both Sharpton and Dean to know that nobody in my family owns a pick up truck, my dad is not a member of the NRA and I do in fact have all my teeth, sans any noticeable gaps. Until the Democratic party begins to recognize these few truths, they will never have a hold in the American South. But with their current ideological viewpoints, frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn
Pardon Me While I Indulge In A Bit Of Southerness
AMEN!
That was an entertaining column, but I found her tone a hair too conciliatory. In fact, lots of working-class Southern whites _do_ drive pickup trucks (if you have a job that requires you to haul stuff around, they’re the best type of vehicle). And lots of them _do_ belong to the NRA, which has something like four million members.
There’s no reason in the world to apologize for that.