SOUTHERN DRAWL
As some of you may remember, I moved back home to NS in 2003 after living near and working in Atlanta, Ga. for 35 years. I've tried very hard to get rid of the slight southern accent I inevitably picked up and believe it's 95% gone. I hope so!
But while reading aloud recently, it was brought to my attention and horror that I still have some southern words in my vocabulary. It started me thinking and remembering how people really do speak there, especially the older folk who travel little and refuse to change with the times.
My next door neighbor was an older, white lady who chewed tobacco. I hated to watch her spit into her can but was fasinated at the dark colour of the juice.
"Wassa matter; you ain't seen a woman chewin' tabacca for? Ya wanna try some? Good fer ya'! Keeps the lungs cleared out." And she'd laugh and spit and laugh and spit.
Another neignbor was a black family who hated my dog or any dog, period.
"Your dog done peed on my petunias! And that dog livin' 'crost the street did his bizness in our tomata patch. If I wanted to live around dogs I'd a moved to the country...."
I once had a neighbor who was a police officer and the stories he told, in his thick southern drawl, were just like an old time Sherrif from Mayberry RFD.
"Ah hadda stop a fight last night near the ha school and I'm tellin' ya, it wadn't purdy. This girl about tore the har off another girl who she said had slept with her bofriend. Ain't seen nuthin' like it, the cussin' & carryin' on they did. Ah reckon they're just hillbillies or rednecks!"
When I'd go to buy a few groceries at the local PIGGLY WIGGLY store, there would be men sitting around outside playing checkers and smoking and talking.
"Yo turn, Jeb. The sun's gonna set afore you make up yer old mind."
"Hush; ah'm fixin' ta play...."
When I'd come out a half hour later, I'd hear:
"Jeb, whatcha waitin' fer, Santie Claus??"
I used to enjoy driving out into the N Ga Mountains where I'd stop at the roadside stands to buy some peanuts salted in the shell or some homemade honey or mustard greens, okra, black eyes peas, watermelon, etc.
"Is that all? Doncha want some pickled pigs feet? How's bout some grits or some snake oil? Ya don't eat chitlins? Don't know what's good for ya', honey child."
"Here, darlin'. Take a few bites of ma peanut-brittle; it'll cure what ails ya', sho 'nuff!"
Sometimes I'd go downtown Atlanta to eat at The Varsity, a great place to eat inside or in your car. Nipsey Russel, the black comedian, got his start while working there; was discovered, so to speak.
"Whatcha havin', darlin'?" I would hesitate too long and they'd quickly move on to the next person in the long line of hungry people. The terms were strange to me at first but after a few visits, I got the hang of it. Kind of like my first Tim Horten's trip where I asked for things in my coffee like 3 Tlbs cream, please and 1 tsp of sugar......
"I'll have a yella dog, a chili steak with rings and a PC please, Sir."
"Comin right up, Mam?" And I'd love every bite of my hotdog with mustard, my hamburger with chili sauce, huge, greasy, hot onion rings and chocolate milk over crushed ice. I never did figure out why they called it a PC.
Church was always fasinating. The congregations were huge and the faces both black and white.
"Nice to see you out this marning, mam. That hat sho is purdy! This your young-un? Looks just like her mama! Sho 'nuff! sho 'nuff!"
I'd sometimes need a translater at work as I just did not understand a word some southerners spoke when I was a new employee. I was an Insurance Adjuster who dealt with the public, primarily via telephone.
"You say you've had an automobile accident, My Anderson? Can you tell me what happened, Sir?"
"Well, me and the missus, we's goin' to the State Fair in 'Lanna? when this big ol' truck done slammed inta us & spuns us round & round til my head hit the roof and bout knocked me into her? and so's I tole that PO-lice man that he musta been dranking cuz we's not doin over 35 & he jes came outa the sky and now my back hurts so bad I cain't even bend over to pick cotton......."
"I'm sorry to hear that but I'll need to review the police report. Is your wife able to speak with me, Sir?"
"Yessum! Martha, git over here! This woman's with the insurance company so jest tell her how your head hurts so bad you cain't go over yonder to Picadilly today. My missus works in the kitchen at the Picadilly; you ever et there? She's feelin' poorly today....."
Southern folks are genuine, good people; as they say here in NS, finest kind, son! Finest kind!
So if you're thinking I still have a southern accent, think again. 'Cuz I'm leaving here to go straight to Tim Horten's to order my coffee......double double!
