“Oh my God, you’re ruining my life!” –That was my reaction when my parents told me we were going to move from Sunny Southern California to Middle Tennessee (more like Middle of Nowhere Hicksville, I thought). Up until that point, I’d lived in California my whole life. I was comfortable-and now my world was turned upside down. Where was I going to shop? In California, there are malls the size of small towns—in Tennessee there’s the Bass Pro Shops. Where was I going to eat? In California, there are places that have 2 dozen different types of sushi—in Tennessee, pickled pig’s feet are a delicacy.
In California, everything I wanted was a short drive away. In the summer there were the pristine beaches, with the sun-kissed surfers with their perfectly chiseled bodies. And in the winter, there were the majestic mountains, with the rugged snowboarders and their perfectly chiseled bodies…*BIG SIGH*
I’m sorry; I was just getting a little nostalgic. But what are you supposed to do when you’re a California girl stuck in hillbilly hell?
Once I realized that this wasn’t just a cruel joke on the part of my father, I figured I better find out a little about this place called Tennessee. I asked all my friends what they knew, and I was shocked. I found out that Tennessee is actually still part of the United States, that I’d have to wear overalls and ride a tractor to school, and that if my cousin didn’t move too, I wouldn’t have a date to the Senior prom…EWWWWW.
I went home that night and told my parents in no uncertain terms that we were NOT moving, and they were just going to have to deal with it…After they stopped laughing at me they suggested that I look on the internet for more accurate information. I read about this great philosopher, and his teachings really helped me come to terms with my pending move. I’m telling you, Jeff Foxworthy is one smart guy!
First he taught me about the difference between y’all, all y’all, and you’uns. Apparently y’all is singular, all y’all is plural, and you’uns is all y’all plus three. It took me awhile to adjust to using y’all. It annoyed me to no end when my dad bought a shirt that says “what part of y’all don’t you understand?” Well, the “y” and the “’all.”
In his stand up routine, Foxworthy points out that there are a lot of misconceptions about the South and that many people automatically assume that all southerners are rednecks. He has a good point. There are A LOT of misconceptions about the South. I had some misconceptions about Tennessee when I found out that I was moving. Granted, most of them turned out to be wrong, and I actually learned a lot from moving to the South.
Californians don’t know much about the Civil War, or as it’s called here “the war of northernly aggression” or “the war of the lost cause.” A Californians’ idea of a civil war was when their state was liberated from Mexico, or more recently, the Bloods versus the Crips. Which leads me to hunting … in Tennessee people actually hunt animals. In California, they hunt each other and call them drive-bys.
But most importantly I learned that shopping in Tennessee is more than Bass Pro Shops and the Tractor Supply Company. The malls may not be the size of a small town, but they are malls all the same – with huge stores, stocked high with all the essentials that a teenage girl needs for her survival – shoes, purses, clothes, more shoes, make up, cute guy behind the counter and did I mention shoes?
And then I learned that I can date even without my cousins living in the same state. Unfortunately my father has also learned that he can legally buy a shotgun, and use it to scare the dickens out of any potential dates. We need to work on this.
I quickly learned that I wasn’t going to starve either. Pickled pigs’ feet aside, Tennessee has a lot of food and restaurants to choose from. There are plenty of steakhouses, and enough BBQ to choke a pig, but Waffle House is still kind of creepy…and I don’t get the whole thing with grits. In California, they give “grits” a fancy name a la polenta, so that they can charge a fancy price, while y’all call them grits and charge a lot less. Personally it doesn’t matter if you call it polenta, grits, or ground up corn, I don’t like ‘em. On the subject of food, let’s talk about road kill. (Stay with me here…) Amazingly enough Tennessee has a law assuring your right to take home anything you hit with your car for your “personal use and consumption.” Maybe this law makes sense, especially if you drive around in a monster truck.
I may not have ended up in Hicksville, which really does exist in Tennessee, but I found someplace scarier. One night on my way to a friend’s house, I missed a turn. I drove for what seemed like forever. I hadn’t seen another car for at least ten minutes when in the distance I saw a small farmhouse and a barn so rickety that a simple sneeze could have blown it over. That’s when my headlights hit the small sign that read “Welcome to Vernon Hollow, population 6.” As I quickly turned around I could have sworn that I heard banjo music playing.
Did you know that Tennessee actually has four seasons? They’re referred to as Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter. I guess technically California has four seasons as well, they are just referred to by different names: earthquakes, fires, floods, and riots.
The one thing that everyone asked me after I moved was whether or not I had ever met anyone famous while living in California. Just because I lived somewhere with a population of 37 million people doesn’t mean I lived next to Tom Cruise or ran into Paris Hilton while shopping in one of those small town sized malls. In the year that I have lived in Tennessee where the state population is 6 million people, I have seen 4 celebrities in person, and live within a mile of 3 that I know of (I’m sure there are others hiding from me out there). I have even bagged groceries for … for … oh shoot … what’s his name … you know, that one country singer … the one that wears a cowboy hat.
I learned about southern hospitality too, when I moved here. On my first day of school, I didn’t know anybody, but people were still nice to me, showed me around, and quickly befriended me. I learned that I can’t always jump to conclusions about people or places like Tennessee. Now whenever I have to do something for school, like a forensics tournament, my parents remind me that I thought they were ruining my life when we moved. And my friends in California say that I am slowing starting to pick up on a Southern drawl. I have no idea what they are talking about. *southern drawl* Oh no…I’m turning into one of them!!!!
In California, everything I wanted was a short drive away. In the summer there were the pristine beaches, with the sun-kissed surfers with their perfectly chiseled bodies. And in the winter, there were the majestic mountains, with the rugged snowboarders and their perfectly chiseled bodies…*BIG SIGH*
I’m sorry; I was just getting a little nostalgic. But what are you supposed to do when you’re a California girl stuck in hillbilly hell?
Once I realized that this wasn’t just a cruel joke on the part of my father, I figured I better find out a little about this place called Tennessee. I asked all my friends what they knew, and I was shocked. I found out that Tennessee is actually still part of the United States, that I’d have to wear overalls and ride a tractor to school, and that if my cousin didn’t move too, I wouldn’t have a date to the Senior prom…EWWWWW.
I went home that night and told my parents in no uncertain terms that we were NOT moving, and they were just going to have to deal with it…After they stopped laughing at me they suggested that I look on the internet for more accurate information. I read about this great philosopher, and his teachings really helped me come to terms with my pending move. I’m telling you, Jeff Foxworthy is one smart guy!
First he taught me about the difference between y’all, all y’all, and you’uns. Apparently y’all is singular, all y’all is plural, and you’uns is all y’all plus three. It took me awhile to adjust to using y’all. It annoyed me to no end when my dad bought a shirt that says “what part of y’all don’t you understand?” Well, the “y” and the “’all.”
In his stand up routine, Foxworthy points out that there are a lot of misconceptions about the South and that many people automatically assume that all southerners are rednecks. He has a good point. There are A LOT of misconceptions about the South. I had some misconceptions about Tennessee when I found out that I was moving. Granted, most of them turned out to be wrong, and I actually learned a lot from moving to the South.
Californians don’t know much about the Civil War, or as it’s called here “the war of northernly aggression” or “the war of the lost cause.” A Californians’ idea of a civil war was when their state was liberated from Mexico, or more recently, the Bloods versus the Crips. Which leads me to hunting … in Tennessee people actually hunt animals. In California, they hunt each other and call them drive-bys.
But most importantly I learned that shopping in Tennessee is more than Bass Pro Shops and the Tractor Supply Company. The malls may not be the size of a small town, but they are malls all the same – with huge stores, stocked high with all the essentials that a teenage girl needs for her survival – shoes, purses, clothes, more shoes, make up, cute guy behind the counter and did I mention shoes?
And then I learned that I can date even without my cousins living in the same state. Unfortunately my father has also learned that he can legally buy a shotgun, and use it to scare the dickens out of any potential dates. We need to work on this.
I quickly learned that I wasn’t going to starve either. Pickled pigs’ feet aside, Tennessee has a lot of food and restaurants to choose from. There are plenty of steakhouses, and enough BBQ to choke a pig, but Waffle House is still kind of creepy…and I don’t get the whole thing with grits. In California, they give “grits” a fancy name a la polenta, so that they can charge a fancy price, while y’all call them grits and charge a lot less. Personally it doesn’t matter if you call it polenta, grits, or ground up corn, I don’t like ‘em. On the subject of food, let’s talk about road kill. (Stay with me here…) Amazingly enough Tennessee has a law assuring your right to take home anything you hit with your car for your “personal use and consumption.” Maybe this law makes sense, especially if you drive around in a monster truck.
I may not have ended up in Hicksville, which really does exist in Tennessee, but I found someplace scarier. One night on my way to a friend’s house, I missed a turn. I drove for what seemed like forever. I hadn’t seen another car for at least ten minutes when in the distance I saw a small farmhouse and a barn so rickety that a simple sneeze could have blown it over. That’s when my headlights hit the small sign that read “Welcome to Vernon Hollow, population 6.” As I quickly turned around I could have sworn that I heard banjo music playing.
Did you know that Tennessee actually has four seasons? They’re referred to as Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter. I guess technically California has four seasons as well, they are just referred to by different names: earthquakes, fires, floods, and riots.
The one thing that everyone asked me after I moved was whether or not I had ever met anyone famous while living in California. Just because I lived somewhere with a population of 37 million people doesn’t mean I lived next to Tom Cruise or ran into Paris Hilton while shopping in one of those small town sized malls. In the year that I have lived in Tennessee where the state population is 6 million people, I have seen 4 celebrities in person, and live within a mile of 3 that I know of (I’m sure there are others hiding from me out there). I have even bagged groceries for … for … oh shoot … what’s his name … you know, that one country singer … the one that wears a cowboy hat.
I learned about southern hospitality too, when I moved here. On my first day of school, I didn’t know anybody, but people were still nice to me, showed me around, and quickly befriended me. I learned that I can’t always jump to conclusions about people or places like Tennessee. Now whenever I have to do something for school, like a forensics tournament, my parents remind me that I thought they were ruining my life when we moved. And my friends in California say that I am slowing starting to pick up on a Southern drawl. I have no idea what they are talking about. *southern drawl* Oh no…I’m turning into one of them!!!!
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