Recovering Southern Rebel

I have a confession to make. Several, to be more exact. I have not been truthful with myself or others. I have been denying my complete Southern-ness because I thought it was outdated and silly. It took a fellow Southern chile' to snatch me out of my ivory tower.

Here are a list of a few of my transgressions:

• I have been known to put a bottle of ketchup on the dinner table. Straight; no serving dish or nothin'. I do always feel very guilty and hope my mother does not walk in on this despicable scene. 
• Recently, I handed my nine year old a thank you note from a classmate and the conversation when like this: he - "What's this?" me - "A thank you note from A." he- "What's a thank you note?". To drive the knife in a little deeper, A's parents were raised in Michigan. Michigan. In my defense, my son has sent thank you notes, just written by my hand. And, both my children do have, and use, calling cards. I'm not tacky.
• I keep my silver unpolished and tucked away only for use on special occasions. My good china, the same. 
• I don't arrange flowers for the centerpiece; I call my mother and let her "help" me with that. 
• I have no oil portraits of my barefoot children. 
• I don't fry chicken. I buy it from Publix after church on Sunday with half my fellow congregants. It's really good, and on the way home. 
• I drink beer right out of the can or bottle, sometimes standing up and not under a roof. I do always have a napkin or koozie - I do have standards. 

I was listening to James Farmer give a talk a month or so ago and while I was glad to hear him, I did think "just another Southerner talking about the South and our 'isms'". He was talking about pimento cheese, blue and white anything, fried chicken, and then he said "serving on our chipped Limoges plates." I snapped to attention. I have chipped Limoges plates; they were my grandmother's. They were her wedding china. She hated them because her mother-in-law chose the pattern. I got them because no one else in the family wanted them. A light, that I could see all the way half-way across town from the museum, shown on the plates. I have chipped Limoges plates!! And I should use them!! 

Those Limoges plates!

A centerpiece sans flowers. 

Mimi is not helping.

                                                             

 So, thank you James Farmer for calling me out. I act Southern, I talk Southern, and I was raised right. But I have not been true to myself (or my mother or my aunt or my grandmother). I should embrace my Southern-ness all the time, every day. Not just a few dinner parties a year. I will serve condiments in proper serving pieces! I will polish the silver! My children will have engraved stationary and use it! I will fry chicken!