Ten things every southerner should know: Following is an excerpt from this week’s column, which now originates on It’s a Southern Thing. The link at the bottom takes you to the full column. I do that because Southern Thing owns the rights to this column and I can’t blog it in its entirety. Be sure to follow IAST on Facebook, Twitter, etc. The videos are hilarious.
In my job, I wander around the south writing about any weirdness I might stumble across along the roadside. As you can imagine, the south is the gift that keeps on giving. In a good way. We southerners hate hiding our otherness. We like to put it right out on the front porch where anyone can enjoy it, even if it’s an old toilet with petunias planted in it.
So I wrote a book about how I parlayed my penchant for turning down dirt roads in search of World’s Largest Things and Stonehenge replicas into a job as a Weird News Reporter. “Not Quite Right: Mostly True Tales of a Weird News Reporter,” (Solomon & George Publishers, $15; to order a signed copy email email@example.com) includes tales about growing up in the south and life as a menopausal newlywed, interspersed with some of the oddities I’ve come across in my job.
Here are 10 tidbits of southern wisdom you can find in “Not Quite Right:”
Those of us who were raised in the south don’t like to gossip about people … to their faces. And not without a “bless her heart” or “God love him” to soften the blow. In the same vein, we think it’s crass to publicly discuss sensitive subjects such as (whisper) private parts and bodily functions. Unless, of course, we whisper them, which puts them in proper context as (whisper) unmentionables.
For the love of grandma’s peach preserves, women’s clothing needs new sizing standards, especially that horribly redundant “extra large.” That’s like saying Ida Mae’s not just big. She’s big big.” Let’s try something more reasonable, maybe even introduce southern sizing, like tee-tiny, middlin’, over-filled corn muffin, biscuit-fluffy, dumplin’ and sack o’ taters.
If humans were meant to eat raw veggies, God wouldn’t have invented Crisco.