Allison's snickering at my redneck comment reminded me of something I'd intended to post last week and forgot about with all the food-related festivities.
Last Wednesday was pretty dead at work and I ended up having an unusual conversation with one of the doctors. He had asked about our holiday plans and I gave him the rundown of our travels. He then inquired further about where my family was and where I grew up. He was visibly shocked that I'd lived in Mississippi my entire life. He said that I didn't talk like I was from here, and he thought I'd grown up somewhere else.
I had to laugh at that. I really don't have much of an accent, unless I slip into auto-hick while on the phone or visiting with family. I don't remember when I lost my accent, or even if I ever had one (surely that's impossible), but I suspect it was somewhere between high school and college.
At the end of the conversation with this doctor he congratulated me on not having a Southern accent. After he walked off I contemplated whether or not I was a little insulted by that. I know he didn't mean anything offensive by it, but I don't find being from the South to be a bad thing. I don't consider being a redneck a bad thing. Some of the best people I know are rednecks.
Having said that, I thought I'd share some of my favorite "rednecks at weddings" stories featuring one of my redneck all-stars.
Many discussions were had before my wedding about who would be asked to do what during the service. My brother asked who was going to be assigned as security to search the guests for weapons, and which type of guns would be considered acceptable. This is the same brother who, the morning of the wedding, offered Greg his credit card and truck keys as one last chance to run.
Right before my wedding, as the minister and male members of the wedding party were waiting to walk into the sanctuary, my brother comments to Ross that he needs to make this short, then makes some comment about the church full of rednecks with guns. Ross, who you may recall is from South Africa, commented that where comes from they kill elephants, their guns were bigger.
This morning I emailed Sharonda to let her know that my brother would be coming to the wedding on Saturday AND wearing a suit (GASP!). She responded that he just wanted to wear something with pockets to hold the beer.
I wouldn't trade my brother, or my heritage, for anything.
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7 comments:
I spent from age 2 until age 11 in western Oklahoma so I'm a Redneck Cowgirl sort of woman I guess. I didn't have much of an accent either but it has gotten thicker over the years. I've always loved the way we speak. It's very much a part of who we are. I hate a southern accent to be butchered in a movie or on television. It does annoy me a little bit however to listen to Haley Barbour speak. I always thought public officials should be a bit eloquent, but he just sounds like Uncle Bubba.
What else would pockets at a wedding be for? Your brother may be the smartest member of your family. Now when do we go hunting for fish?
Make sure he sees the commercial where the guy smuggles beer into an opera.
Benji - as soon as you can find a hole with enough water to hold a fish, I'm sure he'd be willing to go. Dad's pond is more like a mud puddle these days.
And Bill wouldn't be caught dead driving past an opera, much less in one. He's safe there.
Read a survey a few years ago that asked what the sexiest accents were. Guess which one ranked No. 1?
Brits?
No, Aussies! =)
Just kidding. I've always loved a genuine Southern accent. Doesn't matter what you say, it comes out sounding warm and welcoming. Kinda like how we use, "Bless their heart" as an insult, but it comes out sounding so compassionate!
Exactly. :)
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