Friday, September 5, 2014


Melynda at Life Happens sent me this email--thanks, Mel!!

Southerners know their summer weather report:

Southerners know their vacation spots:
The beach
The rivuh
The crick

Southerners know everybody's first name:

Southerners know the movies that speak to their hearts:
Fried Green Tomatoes
Driving Miss Daisy
Steel Magnolias
Gone With The Wind

Southerners know their religions:

Southerners know their cities dripping with Southern charm:
Foat Wuth

Southerners know their elegant gentlemen:
Men in uniform
Men in tuxedos
Rhett Butler

Southern girls know their prime real estate:
The Mall
The Country Club
The Beauty Salon

Southern girls know the 3 deadly sins:
Having bad hair and nails
Having bad manners
Cooking bad food

Only a Southerner knows the difference between
a hissie fit and a conniption fit, and that you
don't "HAVE" them,
you "PITCH" them.

Only a Southerner knows how many
fish, collard greens,
turnip greens, peas, beans, etc.,
make up "a mess."

Only a Southerner can show or point out to you the general direction of "yonder."

Only a Southerner knows exactly how long "directly" is, as in: "Going to town, be back directly."

Even Southern babies know that
"Gimme some sugar" is not a
request for the white, granular, sweet substance that sits in a pretty
little bowl
in the middle of the table.

All Southerners know exactly
when "by and by" is.
They might not use the term,
but they know
the concept well.

Only a Southerner knows instinctively that the best gesture of solace
for a neighbor who's got
is a plate of hot fried chicken
and a
big bowl of cold potato salad.
If the neighbor's
 trouble is a real crisis,
they also know to add a large banana puddin'!

Only Southerners grow up
knowing the difference between
"right near"
and "a right far piece."
They also know that" just down the road"
can be 1 mile or 20.

Only a Southerner both knows and understands the difference between
a redneck, a good ol' boy, and po' white trash.

A Southerner knows that fixin' can be used as
a noun, a verb, or an adverb.

Only Southerners make friends
while standing in lines,
... and when we're "in line,"
... we talk
 to everybody!

Put 100 Southerners in a room
and half of them will discover
they're related, even if only by marriage.

In the South, y'all is singular,
all y'all is plural.

Every Southerner knows that tomatoes with eggs, bacon, grits,
and coffee are perfectly wonderful; that red eye gravy is also a breakfast food;
that scrambled eggs just ain't right without Tabasco,
and fried green tomatoes are not a breakfast food.

When you hear someone say,
"Well, I caught myself lookin',"
you know you are in the presence
of a genuine Southerner!

Only true Southerners say
"sweet tea" and "sweet milk."
Sweet tea indicates the need for sugar
and lots of it --
we do not like our
tea unsweetened.
"Sweet milk" means you don't want buttermilk.

And a true Southerner knows you don't scream obscenities at little
old ladies
who drive 30 MPH on the freeway.
You just say,
"Bless her sweet little heart"... and go your own way.

To those of you who are still a little embarrassed by your Southernness:
Take two tent revivals and a dose of sausage gravy and call me in the morning.
Bless your little heart!

And to those of you who are still having a hard time understanding
all this Southern stuff...
bless your hearts, I hear they're fixin' to have classes
 on Southernness as a second language!

Southern girls know men may come and go,
but friends are fah-evah!

There ain't no magazine named "Northern Living" for good reason. There ain't nobody interested in livin' up north and
nobody would buy the magazine!

Now Shugah, send this to someone who was raised in the South or wish they hada been!
If you're a Northern transplant,
bless your little heart, fake it.
We know you got here as fast as you could.
This is Man Martin's post of 1/14/14:

Recently I took a fascinating on-line quiz asking me what expressions I use for common, everyday items.  The result came back showing I'm a Southerner, which is pretty useless considering I know I'm a Southerner, but still, it was strangely gratifying.  It occurred to me, however, that what's needed is not someone telling Southerners words we already know, but a Southerner to tell outsiders words they don't know.  This is less a problem, perhaps, in Atlanta than elsewhere, since this is a fairly cosmopolitan city, but in the more rural areas, there must be a good deal of avoidable confusion among Yankees who don't understand the local terminology; therefore, in the interests of the greater good, I offer this short list.

What you call "saturated fat, sodium, cholesterol, carbohydrates, and sucrose," we call "comfort food."

What you call "polenta," we call "grits."

What you call "assertive" we call "rude."

What you call "morbidly obese," we call, "big boned."

What you call "reckless endangerment" we call "driving."

You say "c--- s------ m-----f------ son of a w---- b---- m---------- a--h---," we say, "bless his heart."

What you call "redneck kooks," we call "neighbors."

What you call "crazy redneck kook nut-jobs," we call "relatives."


Some of my poems are in an anthology that was just published.  It's called "Old Broads Waxing Poetic".  This is the cover.  To order from Amazon, click here.

We were asked to write a very short essay or poem about our favorite old broad in our blogs today.  Here's mine:

My youngest son was 51 this year.  I am 36.  The best way to explain this anomaly is to tell you about something that I read in one of Kirk Douglas’ books.  A “senior” movie actress was being interviewed.  The reporter said, “Forgive me, Madame, but I have to ask.  Your son (who was also a star) admits to being 56.  You claim to be 63.  How can this be?”  Her answer (& mine): “He has his life—I have mine!”

To celebrate its release, each old broad featured in this book is blogging about her favorite old broad today, and we invite each of you to tell us a little something about your favorite old broad in the comments. Please feel free to  spread the word about our Favorite Old Broadfest on Facebook and Twitter.  Oh, and if you're still offended by the term broad, I apologize. If you'd prefer, you can tell us about your favorite older woman... how's that? Oh yeah, and one of you who comments about your fave broad will be winning a free copy of our book. Cool, huh? (It really IS a cool book... not only is it filled with some fun poetry, but all proceeds from its sale are going to CARE International.)

Now then, let me introduce you to the other broads, so you can follow their blogs, too. (Like I said, they're ALL terrific.)

NOTE: Technically, Michael isn't a broad. He's a guy. A very nice guy who used that lovely image from Francesco Romoli to create our cover for us, so you could say, as an important member of our team, he's an honorary broad. With hairy legs.

Help spread the word on Facebook and Twitter throughout the week to earn bonus points. Also, please indicate where you posted about your favorite old broad, so we're sure to find it. The winner will be announced next Friday, September 12th.

Thanks for helping make this a very broad celebration!

Y'all come back again, heah?----fishducky



  1. A book written by awe-inspiring talented broads? I have to have it. So I have just ordered it. Thank you, one and all.

    1. My copy is on order, too. I haven't seen the whole book yet!!

  2. I love this! It's so funny. Mess o'greens, pitchin' a fit!
    I laughed and laughed.
    Sadly, I'm not Southern, despite living South of the equator in a state called SOUTH Australia, my problem seems to be I don't talk to everyone! (Kinda shy)

    1. Would the comment "Oh, how nice" be out of order?

  3. Being that I am a transplant into the South from the North (Damn Yankee), I'm starting to catch on and gittin it!

    1. I'm pretty sure that once a Yankee, always a Yankee!!

  4. Loved this Southern post! Lots of smiles here.

    "He has his life--I have mine!" Hahaha! :D

  5. I need a copy of "Speaking Suthern for Dummies!"

  6. I'm originally from Maryland, which, technically, is below the Mason-Dixon line. Not that Georgians put much truck in that. But we've been in Georgia since '71, so I think that should qualify us as Southerners by now. I loved (and related to) all your Southern "truths."

    Loved your, "He has his life--- I have mine" line. Perfect! Thank you so much for being such an important part of our book. Your poetry is... top dog. (Duck?)

    1. I'm from Los Angeles, which is south of Sn Francisco, but I'm pretty sure that I wouldn't be considered a Southerner. As far as the book goes, y'all are very welcome!!

  7. YOU are my favorite old broad.


  8. Originally, I'm from the great state o' West Virginia, transplanted to Tennessee for over twenty years.

    My favorite WV-ism is pronounced "I've an nightie" (it actually is how my grandma said "I have an idea..."). Usually, she used this phrase to indict she suspected something or knew the true scoop.

    When she was visiting us in our Ohio home (I was about 20-ish), I was dating someone who was Persian. I told him, "Oh, Lordy, don't say a word in front of grandma - we're just going to grab my books and scoot."

    He went to the car and my grandma said, "I've an-nightie..."

    I froze.

    She finished: "...that you think I don't know he's one of them I-talians."

    Great post, fishducky. :-)

    1. Glad you liked it--& I LOVE your grandma!!

    2. Cherdo, Willy Dunne Wooters grew up in West Virginia, and I got my degree at Shepherd University. "We" (meaning WDW while I sit next to him) are watching WVU football right now. They are playing Towson University, which is where my son went to school.

  9. Yeah, but we got "The Shore" and great pizza!

  10. Yay! Glad we were part of this wonderful broad project.

    I'm from the South(ern) California area referred to as Los Angeles. I'd say there are more rude people there than any place else. I also love sweet tea with my banana puddin. I hope that makes me an honorary Southern Gal.

    Cheers from one ole broad to another.

  11. Great Southern story! I also loved the punchline in your favorite old broad ditty. Thanks for sharing your comedic gems in our li'l ole book!


  12. Southern girl gets on a plane and sits by two New York socialites
    Souther girl: Where y'all from?
    Socialite: We:'re from a place where we don't end sentences with prepositions.
    Southern girl clears her throat and says: Where y'all from, bitch.

  13. Hi FishDucky .. love all your Southern drawling insider thoughts and comics ... then the punchline as to how old you are/feel ... love Rick's comment above too ... congratulations on the Old Broads project ... cheers Hilary

    1. If you can't say something nice, don't say nothin' at all!!

  14. HI, Fran,

    Thanks for the laughs.... I liked the aging actress's comeback line! Well said!

    1. Thank YOU for your work on the book. I guess that makes you a honorary old broad!!

  15. doggone it, Fran… your posts are longer than mine … hard to comment as some have said to me … let's see..

    the southern part … y'all is plural! I've had to say that forever to m'yankee pals … it's a contraction for you all… NOW … if there's a bunch of y'alls… say a group? then we say … all of you all … or all of y'all … OR all you little darlin's ovah thaha…

    don't know how to spell a two syllable there…

    …and no we don't marry our cousins… you're in Atlanta? it is funny how the metropolitan areas differ from each state and other cities and town in an area.

    I tried to explain the term … broad to my son who is 29. Lauren Bacall died and I said… one of the last good ol broads.

    He knows I'm quite the feminist and said.. broad? sooo I explained … it's kinda hard to these days. HAHA I love the He has his life ~ I have mine!

    right on

    I never see you post on FB unless I tag you!

    1. Sometimes I can't stop babbling--you know how that is!! I almost never check Facebook.

  16. Dear Fishducky, my favorite "old broad" was my Aunt Dorothy. She's been dead for 20 years now but she was the inspiration for me deciding that a single life could be full and rich and meaningful. I so remember when she'd come home intoxicated and pull the large Mexican sombrero off the wall and pitch it onto the middle of the living room floor and do a wild dance around it, singing at the top of her lungs. She lived with my Grandmother and I'd be in visiting and when I heard her fumbling with the key in the front door, I'd get out of bed and sit at the top of the steps to watch the wild woman of Madison Street! Peace.

    1. That story puts you in the running for a fre book!!


Your comments make my day, which shows you how boring my life has become.