Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Christmas traditions with a Southern Flair


Tonight, as Mom and I were driving home from Chiefland, the Redneck version of the 12 days of Christmas came on.  Y’all know the one....  Jeff Foxworthy belts it out as only he can.  Now, while I believe that The 12 days of Christmas (the original version) might possibly be the most annoying song ever.  But the Redneck version...well, it cracks me up.

Why?  

Well, right before I left Hitchcocks to go to work at the Journal, I was up there one day right before Christmas.  We were all just hanging out in the back.  I don’t know how, but we got to talking about the 12 days of Christmas song (the original).  Dennis was trying to list them off.  He got stumped on day 8.  Without missing a beat, I blurted out “It’s eight table dancers.”--Please note here, that I feel SURE Dennis had never been privileged to hear that version of the song--Insert crazy look from Dennis, as he kindly said “Yeahhhh....I don’t think that’s it.”  I’d said it without even putting a thought to the words tumbling out of my mouth.  Needless to say, my face was crimson.

This being said, I will mention yet again, that I’m “a far cry from white trash, and a shoutin’ distance from Southern Belle.”  

You can dress your casserole up in a pretty dish; slap on a cute apron and matching hairbow.  You can gussy up in full Scarlett O’ Hara fashion and let pure sugar drip off your tongue.  You can win people over with your “y’alls” and “Sugars” and “Honeys” and “Darlins.”  You can say your prayers to Jesus, and idolize the great Mrs. Paula Deen...But if you’ve got Redneck in your roots, there’s just no shakin’ it or coverin’ it up.  It’s there...Sure as death and taxes.

Lately, what with thoughts of Christmas cookies, Christmas decorations, jingle bells, and reindeer dancing in my head, I got to thinkin’ a little about Christmas traditions.  

My Holidays are as deep-rooted in tradition as the next Southerner.  Every Christmas, inevitably the “Santa” Christmas blocks get rearranged to say “Satan.”  The “Noel” blocks wind up saying “Leon.”  Our Christmas mouse goes missing from our Advent Calendar.  Somebody cranks up the dancing Black Santa.  Someone might possibly chip a tooth on one of the baked goods.  Someone tries to find a lower fat version of a Classic Southern dish.  Somebody gets mad.  Someone always takes it upon themselves to buy the “person who has everything” a truly awful gift...such as sailor pants or a stuffed, real-looking chicken wearing googles and a #1 medallion around his neck. Someone may or may not come home with a new piercing and gets chased with a bug zapper.  And someone may or may not bring a (friend and) drag queen to add a little spice to the holiday :)

No matter how crazy your family is, love and cherish them.  I love mine dearly...fruits, nuts, and all.  Variety is the spice of life, and without a few nuts, life would sure be dull.  When you’re watching a scene befitting an episode of All My Children, or the family drama Cake Boss, or...well, Cops unfold at your Holiday gathering...Just think: “Without these stories, I’ll have nothing to talk about when I’m 80.” 

Christmas traditions with a Southern Flair


Tonight, as Mom and I were driving home from Chiefland, the Redneck version of the 12 days of Christmas came on.  Y’all know the one....  Jeff Foxworthy belts it out as only he can.  Now, while I believe that The 12 days of Christmas (the original version) might possibly be the most annoying song ever.  But the Redneck version...well, it cracks me up.

Why?  

Well, right before I left Hitchcocks to go to work at the Journal, I was up there one day right before Christmas.  We were all just hanging out in the back.  I don’t know how, but we got to talking about the 12 days of Christmas song (the original).  Dennis was trying to list them off.  He got stumped on day 8.  Without missing a beat, I blurted out “It’s eight table dancers.”--Please note here, that I feel SURE Dennis had never been privileged to hear that version of the song--Insert crazy look from Dennis, as he kindly said “Yeahhhh....I don’t think that’s it.”  I’d said it without even putting a thought to the words tumbling out of my mouth.  Needless to say, my face was crimson.

This being said, I will mention yet again, that I’m “a far cry from white trash, and a shoutin’ distance from Southern Belle.”  

You can dress your casserole up in a pretty dish; slap on a cute apron and matching hairbow.  You can gussy up in full Scarlett O’ Hara fashion and let pure sugar drip off your tongue.  You can win people over with your “y’alls” and “Sugars” and “Honeys” and “Darlins.”  You can say your prayers to Jesus, and idolize the great Mrs. Paula Deen...But if you’ve got Redneck in your roots, there’s just no shakin’ it or coverin’ it up.  It’s there...Sure as death and taxes.

Lately, what with thoughts of Christmas cookies, Christmas decorations, jingle bells, and reindeer dancing in my head, I got to thinkin’ a little about Christmas traditions.  

My Holidays are as deep-rooted in tradition as the next Southerner.  Every Christmas, inevitably the “Santa” Christmas blocks get rearranged to say “Satan.”  The “Noel” blocks wind up saying “Leon.”  Our Christmas mouse goes missing from our Advent Calendar.  Somebody cranks up the dancing Black Santa.  Someone might possibly chip a tooth on one of the baked goods.  Someone tries to find a lower fat version of a Classic Southern dish.  Somebody gets mad.  Someone always takes it upon themselves to buy the “person who has everything” a truly awful gift...such as sailor pants or a stuffed, real-looking chicken wearing googles and a #1 medallion around his neck. Someone may or may not come home with a new piercing and gets chased with a bug zapper.  And someone may or may not bring a (friend and) drag queen to add a little spice to the holiday :)

No matter how crazy your family is, love and cherish them.  I love mine dearly...fruits, nuts, and all.  Variety is the spice of life, and without a few nuts, life would sure be dull.  When you’re watching a scene befitting an episode of All My Children, or the family drama Cake Boss, or...well, Cops unfold at your Holiday gathering...Just think: “Without these stories, I’ll have nothing to talk about when I’m 80.”