I thought this was appropriate given the conversation of the past few days. I hope no one gets upset over the length, etc. It was sent to me by a friend in New Jersey, but I don't know the origins of the original message. > BLESS YOUR HEART > > Someone once noted that a Southerner can get away with the most > awful kind of insult just as long as it's prefaced with the words > "Bless her heart" or "Bless his heart." > > As in, "Bless his heart, if they put his brain on the head of a pin, > it'd roll round like a BB on a six-lane highway." Or, "Bless her heart, > she's so bucktoothed, she could eat an apple through a picket fence." > > There are also the sneakier ones that I remember from tongue-clucking > types of my childhood: "You know, it's amazing that even though she had > that baby seven months after they got married, bless her heart, it > weighed 10 pounds!" > > As long as the heart is sufficiently blessed, the insult can't be all > that bad, at least that's what my Great-aunt Tiny (bless her heart, > she was anything but) used to say. > > I was thinking about this the other day when a friend was telling me > about her new Northern friend who was upset because her toddler is just > beginning to talk and he has a Southern accent. My friend, who is very > kind and, bless her heart, cannot do a thing about those thighs of hers, > was justifiably miffed about this. After all, this woman had CHOSEN > to move south a couple of years ago. > > "Can you believe it?", she said to my friend. "A child of mine is going > to be taaaallllkkin' a-liiiike thiiiissss." > > I can think of far worse fates than speaking Southern for this adorable > little boy, who, bless his heart, must surely be the East Coast king of > mucus. I wish I'd been there. I would have said that she shouldn't fret, > because there is nothing so sweet or pleasing on the ear as a soft, > Southern drawl. Of course, maybe we shouldn't be surprised at > her "carryings on." > > After all, when you come from a part of the world where "family silver" > refers to the large medallion around Uncle Vinnie's neck, you just have > to, as aunt Tiny would say, "consider the source." > > Now don't get me wrong. Some of my dearest friends are from the North, > bless their hearts. I welcome their perspective, their friendships and > their recipes for authentic Northern Italian food. I've even gotten past > their endless complaints that you can't find good bread down here. > > The ones who really gore my ox are the native Southerners who have > begun to act almost embarrassed about their speech. It's as if they want > to bury it in the "Hee Haw" cornfield. We've already lost too much. I was > raised to "swanee," not swear, but you hardly ever hear anyone say that > anymore, I swanee you don't. > > And I've caught myself thinking twice before saying something is > "right much," "right close" or "right good" because non-natives think > this is right funny indeed. > > I have a friend from Bawston who thinks it's hilarious when I say I've > got to "carry" my daughter to the doctor or "cut off" the light. That's > OK. It's when you have to explain things to people who were born here > that I get mad as a mule eating bumble-bees. Not long ago, I found > myself trying to explain to a native southerner what I meant by being > "in the short rows." > > I'm used to explaining that expression (it means you've worked right > smart but you're almost done) to newcomers to the land of buttermilk > and cold collard sandwiches (better than you think), but to have to > explain it to a Southerner was just plain weird. > > The most grating example is found in restaurants and stores where > nice, Magnolia-mouthed clerks now say "you guys" instead of "y'all," as > their mamas raised them up to say. I'd sooner wear white shoes in > February, drink unsweetened tea and eat Miracle Whip instead of Duke's > than utter the words "you guys." > > Not long ago, I went to lunch with four women friends, and the waiter, > a nice Southern boy, you-guys-ed all of us within an inch of our lives. > "You guys ready to order? What can I get for you guys? Would you guys > like to keep you guys' forks?" > > Lord, have mercy. It's a little comforting that, at the very same time > some natives are so eager to blend in, they've taken to making > microwave grits (an abomination), the rest of the world is catching on >that > it's cool to be Clampett. How else do you explain NASCAR tracks and > Krispy Kreme doughnut franchises springing up like yard onions all over > the country? > > To those of you who're still a little embarrassed by your > Southernness, take two tent revivals and a dose of redeye gravy > and call me in the morning. Bless your heart. "Hope is a thing with feathers that perches in the soul . . ." Emily Dickinson