MY SOUTH II
by Robert St. John
While channel-surfing on the idiot box the other day, I came across another one of those clich�d programs about the South. These supposed Southerners were talking about eating a possum.

As long as I have lived in the South I have never eaten a possum. No one I know has ever eaten a possum. I have never been to anyone�s house who served possum. I have never seen possum offered on a restaurant menu, and I have never seen possum in the frozen meat section of a grocery store.

I have, however, seen possums running through the woods. And I have seen a few possums (who weren�t good runners) in the middle of the road.

In the South, we might eat strange foods, but possum isn�t one of them.

As far as Hollywood is concerned, the South is still one big hot and humid region full of stereotypes and clich�s (they got the humidity part right). We are either Big-Daddy-sitting-on-the-front-porch-in-a-seersucker-suit, sweating and fanning while drinking mint juleps beside a scratching dog� or� the poor-barefooted-child-in-tattered-clothes, walking down a dusty-dirt road beside a scratching dog. There is no middle ground. Most of the time, we are either stupid or racist or both.

A year ago I wrote a column titled "My South." In light of yesterday's possum experience I would like to add to the list of things that make up my South. The South of movies and TV, the Hollywood South, is not my South.

• In my South no one eats possum. We do, on occasion, accidentally run over them.
  
  
• In my South little girls wear bows in their hair.
  
  
• In my South banana pudding is its own food group.
  
  
• My South doesn�t have hoagies. In my South, we eat po boys.
  
  
• In my South the back porches are screened and the front porches have rocking chairs and swings.
  
  
• In my South the ham is as salty as the oysters.
  
  
• In my South everyone waves.
  
  
• In my South we know the difference between yams and sweet potatoes.
  
  
• In my South we eat every part of the pig, just like they do in Paris.
  
  
• In my South we use knives, forks and spoons, but we let cornbread and biscuits finish the job.
  
  
• My South has tar-paper shacks but it also has tall-glass skyscrapers.
  
  
• In my South people will put crabmeat on almost anything.
  
  
• My South has tire swings hanging under live oak trees.
  
  
• In my South grandmothers will put almost anything inside a mold filled with Jell-O.
  
  
• In my South �cobbler� is a dessert, not a shoemaker.
  
  
• In my South the only things that �squeal like a pig� are pigs.
  
  
• In my South ice cream is made on the back porch instead of in a factory.
  
  
• In my South grandmothers always have a homemade cake or pie on the counter.
  
  
• My South has bottle trees.
  
  
• In my South we give a firm handshake.
  
  
• In my South �sopping� is an acquired skill and could be an Olympic sport.
  
  
• My South is oleander and honeysuckle.
  
  
• In my South we celebrate Easter a month-and-a-half early with a two-week long party called Mardi gras.
  
  
• In my South fried chicken is a religion with its own denomination.
  
  
• My South has sugar-sand beaches, pine forests, plains, hills, swamps and mountains.
  
  
• In my South we still open doors and pull out chairs for ladies.
  
  
• In my South we eat hushpuppies instead of wearing them on our feet.
  
  
• In my South it�s OK to discuss politics and religion at the dinner table. As a matter of fact, it is required.
  
  
• In my South we don�t hold Elvis�s movies against him.
  
  
• My South has shrimp boats and multi-colored sunrises.
  
  
• In my South we move slowly because we can.
  
  
• My South has covered dish suppers and cutting-edge fine dining restaurants.
  
  
• In my South young boys still catch fireflies in washed out mayonnaise jars.
  
  
• In my South 50% of the dinner conversation deals with someone�s genealogy.
  
  
• In my South we don�t burn crosses, we worship them.
  
  
• In my South the dogs are still scratching.