Just a Po' Dumb Ol' Country Boy

I had lunch today with a very nice Yankee.  Smart, too, since she had the sense to marry a man from North Carolina.  Though the Bible is against the marriage of Southerners and Yankees (see Second Corinthians, Chapter 6, Verse 14), I think it is the only chance the South has of ever understanding these people.

Liz (I’ll call her that, since that’s her name) thinks her husband talks too slow.  According to her, every time she asks him a question, she can count to ten before he answers.  While she thinks that southerners are slow of wit, I think the poor guy is just mentally checking his answer for loopholes and incriminating content.  Yankee or not, Liz is still a wife.

There is a whole building full of fast-talking Yankees where I work at Enema U.  I think we Southerners are outnumbered about as bad as at the Battle of Pittsburg Landing (occasionally called “Shiloh”).  Each and every one of those Yankees seems to think being born in the South is synonymous with mental retardation.  As far as I’m concerned, this is a good thing.   It is simply amazing the things you can get away with by just saying, “Aw shucks.  I’m just a po’ dumb ol’ country boy.”  It doesn’t even matter how many times you use the line, those “po’ dumb ol’ carpetbaggers” are predisposed to believe it.

Funny thing is that, even as the carpetbaggers are poor-mouthing the country folk, little by little, they are picking up our ways.  Take Liz, for example.  A couple of years ago when she came here, she thought black pepper was a spice instead of a garnish, but not that long ago, I saw her eat a stuffed jalapeno—hell, she had even made it.  Even today, she invoked the ‘great southern curse’ while describing her neighbor.  For those of you who don’t know--the great Southern curse is where you can, with a clear conscience, call someone a lowdown chicken thief who cheats at cards and steals from the collection plate--as long you end the sentence with the phrase: “bless his heart.”

Evidently, we Southerners can get away with this foolish country disguise forever, since our new neighbors and friends never seem to learn that we can turn the “country” on and off like a spigot.  Hell, some of my new friends will even read this and still marvel every time I manage to show up with shoes on.

All this kind of reminds me of the city slicker who went for a drive out in the country in his new Mercedes.  As he went around a long curve, he met a deer standing in the middle of the road. The man frantically swerved the car, missing the deer by only a few inches. Unfortunately, in the process, the car ended up in a ditch, stuck deeply in the mud.

Nearby, the man saw a light from a farmhouse. He walked up the driveway and knocked on the door, which was soon answered by a kindly-looking farmer. The man explained his situation to the farmer, who said, “Don’t worry--I think I can help you.”

The farmer led the man to his barn where he got into his pride and joy--a John Deere 9630 4wd tractor with a deluxe cab, an active seat, and 800/70r38 duals.  After driving to the Mercedes stuck in the ditch, he slowly backed the tractor up to the car, put the emergency brake on the tractor and jumped down with a large heavy chain.  After attaching one end to the pintle hook on the back of the tractor, he began walking towards the luxury car stuck in the mud.

“Wait!” yelled the Yankee.  “You’re not going to tow my $90,000 Mercedes with that tractor, are you?”

The farmer looked at the man for a long ten count, then turned and began walking slowly back to his tractor.  “No,” he said.  “I’m not going to tow your $90,000 car with my $250,000 tractor.”

That ignorant Yankee thought everything in the country was low-class, backwards, and simple.  In so doing, he revealed that it was he that was classless, backwards, and simple-minded--bless his heart!