Ten Things I Hate about the South:
1. Nearly 85% of the population pronounces the word “crayons” as “crowns.” Southerners really, really dislike syllables and try to say as few as possible. (See also, “prolly” for “probably” and “su’m” for “something.”)
2. Witnessing some old fart in a liquor store cursing out two innocent, non-English-speaking Latino gentleman for “fucking up his goddamn country and stealing his taxes”? Not all that unusual.
3. Nothing but Super Wal-Marts and strip malls. Makes me want to cry.
4. Little to nothing in the way of public transportation. Everybody drives. And like shit.
5. The public school system blows so hard. It’s incredibly sad.
6. Reading the NY Times in public elicits questions from folks such as, “So, what’s happening in New York?” and “Our news ain’t fit enough for ya?”
7. Country fucking music.
8. It’s so frustratingly hot in the summer–feels like being swathed in a velvet blanket fresh from the dishwasher for three solid months–that you stay indoors constantly to take advantage of air conditioning and to avoid punching strangers in the throat.
9. Everybody is a Christian, no matter what, amen. Say otherwise at your own risk.
10. People around here smile all the time. It’s fucking creepy. You cannot walk down a sidewalk (where there are some) and not avoid eye contact and a totally fake smile from every person you pass. You either fake one back or struggle to avoid their gaze, but either way, what the fuck are these people smiling about? This place sucks.
Ten Things I Love about the South:
1. Sweetened tea.
2. Church signs.
3. Fall. No one, and I mean no one, does it better. I live in a whole state full of deciduous trees that change and drop and turn the entire countryside into a breathtaking tableau. Trucks full of pumpkins and fresh squash line side streets. The crisp air of southern autumns is unmatched in its ability to comfort and remind.
4. Libraries are usually pretty empty.
5. Biscuits. Chicken and dumplings. Peach cobbler.
6. I tried and tried but I can only come up with six. Five, really. This place sucks.