May 21, 2008

“The People Sure Are Nice.”

Filed under: Uncategorized — Erica @ 7:06 am

You know what I really love about The South, and I will venture to guess that our vacationing pal Jimbo feels much the same way: The peeps who live there. Plain and simple.

Southerners — at least all the ones I have met — are some of the gentlest, and most hospitable peeps around, some even going out of their way to concoct for you a refreshing, chilled, homemade glass of iced coffee (a Brooklyn staple), because it’s a thing that might not have been so readily available the Sonic or the rest of rural Tennessee. That meant a lot. In fact, best iced coffee I think I’ve ever had.

What particularly makes a weekend in The South so enjoyable is that time seems to move at a completely different pace. While the length of a New York Minute is about 1/20 the time of an actual minute, peeps in The South just seem to taaaaaaaake it niiiiiiiiiice and eaaaaaaaaassy. What’s the big rush anyways, right? Relaaaaaaaaax.

The short order meal, I’m almost certain, was conceived of in the Northeast, if not New York itself, to accommodate the bustling workforce in our vigorous metropolis, where peeps need to eat their egg and cheese on a Bialy “On-the-Go,” while dealing with the stuff like rush hour and alternate side of the street parking, which comprise the grind of daily life in The Big Apple.

And New Jerseyites? Well, they just stick a slab of greasy Taylor Ham (or whatever the farook that dreck, I mean Breakfast of Champions is called) on a roll and guzzle it down with some kawwwwfee in anticipation of sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic for three hours, whereas Southerners? They let their grits simmer on a low boil sometimes for as long as 45 minutes! Mmmmm-mmm. Just like Aunt Bea used to make. They ain’t in no rush.

And while the average Southern gentleman is only more than happy to sit down, crack open a Bud, and take all the time that is needed to enjoy a nice conversation (unless I am merely, and incorrectly, summoning a stereotype), your average New Jersey wiseguy, well…not so much. I’m guessing that’s where curt expressions such as “Ay,” “Yo!”, “Fuggheddaboudit,” and “Haya doin’?” — all showing little regard for lengthy answers — originated.

Almost makes you wonder what would happen should a nice farm boy — say Jerry Wiley, who divides his time between shoveling shit outta barns in Indiana, and doing God knows what Texas, for instance — were to walk into a bar in Jersey. It almost has the makings of an excellent joke: “A farm boy walks into a bar in Jersey…” In fact, why dontchouse just watch the video, instead:

Side-splitting, that.

5 Comments »

  1. You sure can store a lot of corn in those Meadowlands!

    Comment by Cappy — May 21, 2008 @ 7:37 pm

  2. It being Jersey, and all, I’ve got to wonder what they’ve got stored under the Meadowlands…

    Comment by DMerriman — May 21, 2008 @ 9:03 pm

  3. The southern gentleman is on the wrong side of the bar. He’s the one passin’ out the beers and not askin’ too many questions. He’s got time to listen.

    Comment by RedNeck — May 21, 2008 @ 10:40 pm

  4. “Thanks for asking. I’m doing fine.”

    I’ll have you know this farm boy has walked into bars in New Jersey and New York. You just come on out to Indiana. I’ll take you to the grain elevator. We’ll see who blends in.

    🙂

    Comment by Jerry — May 22, 2008 @ 1:03 am

  5. … you need more visits to Tennessee!…..

    Comment by Eric — May 27, 2008 @ 9:14 pm

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