Southern Dialect.


Many people, when speaking or writing today; will agonize for hours trying to find just the right words or phrases.  This is totally uncalled for if one happens to be from, or a visitor in, the Deep South.  We simply don’t do things that way.  In fact, there are very few things that we will expend the energy to agonize over: – period.

We more or less take things as they come, and let them go at that.  In many cases, anyone that does use the correct words to define something is often considered, “quare”, “uppity”, or “biggity.”   We know exactly what is meant by; “That doo-hickey, what sits on top of th’ motor in my truck, went bad.”   (Definition):  The truck needs a new carburetor.  See how simple it is.

When one tells you that the ‘air’s a-showing’ thru th’ rite  ‘back’un;’  you know instantly, that he is referring to a hole in one of the tires on his vehicle.  Just stating facts without searching for an ideal description; is one of the things that make for the colorful language that the South is famous for.

While these descriptions may seem strange to some; they hold perfect meanings for most of us.  i.e.  “Busted my han’ wide open on th’ lug wrench, when I’sa changin’  th’ back’un;” explains why the hand is bandaged.

These descriptive narrations are not used because of lack of knowledge.  In most cases, they are as much a part of the make-up of the area as are ‘kudzu’ and ‘sand-spurs.’ 

Moreover, it is considered an honor to be invited into one’s home to; ‘Ooh & Ahh’ about  “all them doo-dads,” what th’ ‘Little Womern picked up at th’ Flea Market ta’ set on th’ mantlepiece.’

Suppose, you suffer another failure in your method of transportation.  “If that thing-a-ma-jig,” what charges yo’ batt-rey don’t work;”  You can rest assured that the Voltage Regulator will also have to be replaced.  And; you are in deep trouble if the what-cha-ma-call-it” is faulty at the same time.

But;, the surprise comes when you compare the cost of the repairs, ($264.95), as quoted by the UP-TOWN SUPER-DEALERSHIP’ Inc; with the local mechanics charges.

Upon receiving your itemized bill for the repairs at Joe and Jim’s Filling Station” and find that the cost of the Voltage Regulator was $12.95, the Alternator – $36.50 and the labor was $5.00.  You are then told;  “I hate to do it, but I’ve got to charge you “$54.45.  Things is high, these days:  Ain’t they?”

This is definitely not a result of being unaware of current prices and labor costs.  It is simply the way things are done in the South.  We are completely happy with our laid-back style of living.  Our needs are not as great as our northern brothers, therefore; We are glad to lend a helping hand when needed.

As a rule, most people who visit here will return again and again; and some even choose to make this their home.  The slow pace and relaxed way of doing things have a way of attracting others whose desires are to escape the helter-skelter of larger, more populated areas, and it is usually, not long after making the move until even they; are referring to things with descriptive language such as…

Doo-Dads, Thing-A-Ma-Jigs, and Doo-Hickeys.     


I. R. O. C.


Watching the “International Race Of Champions – (I R O C);”  the other day; it dawned on me that some non-sports enthusiasts would not recognize the sport when only the metaphorical description was used rather than the full title of the contest.

Racing identically equipped automobiles on a closed circuit racetrack by professional drivers, who have succeeded in winning at least one championship trophy; has become quite popular with followers of motor sports. Thousands of fans jam the bleachers to cheer their favorite driver to victory in this once a year performance.

However, there are those who will respond differently when asked the following question….

“What do you think of IROC?”

Matthew P. Jenson III: on Wall Street: “If we had eliminated Saddam Twenty Years ago; we would not have fought them.”

Jethro: interrupted while milking: “I would shore like to mate my Poland-China sow with one of them.”

The President: “I have never been alone in the oval office with Ms. Iroc.”

Saddam: “You can look anywhere except where I’ve got them hidden.”

Greta Van Sustern: “Somebody say something so I can interrupt.”

Jesse Helms: “Retain all sanctions except N.C. Tobacco.”

Newt Gingrich: “We’ll shut down the government if our side does not win.”

Jim Hunt: “I’ll call D.O.T. and have a bridge built for them.”

Strom Thurmond: “I Don’t know.  Ask my aides.”

Monica: “I had sex with all the drivers AND Saddam.”

Kenneth Starr: “Let’s subpoena them all to testify before the Grand Jury.”

The Vice President: “Go get’em, Ken.”

Oprah: “Feed them all hamburgers; and tell them about my Book Club.”

Bubba, changing the oil in his truck: “Well, I thank Earnhardt’ll whup that young-whippersnapper – Gordon’s, tail;  That is;  if Mark an’ Rusty don’t wreck him first.”

The Governor: “It’s bad for the environment and will cause excessive growth.  A lawyer will be in touch; with a Petition to raise taxes, and a Court date.”

Bobby Jule Snodgrass:   “DUGH??”


NOTE!  No one will accept responsibility for this.  Do you blame them???    Dj.

“C. R. S.”

                     THE MALADY OF THE VERY OLD

No one is sure exactly why this happens, but happen it does. Once one reaches the age of fifty years or so, the brain begins to shut down. Gone are the days when you can recite from memory the first, middle, and last names of all your acquaintances. You are lucky to remember your own.

I vaguely recall the time when it was not necessary to jot down everything that anyone said in order to remind myself that I did, in fact, hear it. Not only is this embarrassing, it can sometimes be downright humiliating.

For instance, when you are introduced to a person and five minutes later you are unable to remember their name. What usually happens is that you mutter some unintelligible words to disguise the fact that you don’t know who in the hell they are.  And then, you wonder why they look at you so strangely.

To make matters worse, people who suffer from “CRS” will refuse to admit that it is ‘they’ who are devoid of all sense of recollection. “If they would only speak up, then we would have no problem;”  they are quick to say.

When this illness is combined with an acute loss of hearing, the result is, at best, catastrophic. Anyone who is unable to hear well and to remember even less, is perhaps one of the most likely candidates for the dumb-ass’ of the year award; certainly not a contender for a listing in the best personality file.

I am not aware of any cure for this handicap. I suppose that the best we can hope for is for the younger generation to carry pictures of themselves with their names printed on the back and dispense them to all sufferers of this dreaded disorder. Then, all that would be necessary to remember the names would be to match the picture with the face. The only problem that I can see with this would be that we could not remember in which pocket we had placed the pictures.

I have a request for all of you youngsters. “Please extend a little sympathy for those of us who are afflicted. After all;  ‘your time is coming!”

This is a time when parents will teach RELIGION” in the home: i.e. “You had better PRAY that the stain comes out of that carpet!”


Be not dismayed, America.  With this definition of “CRS” in circulation, you will be amazed at the number of friends that won’t;  “Have nothing to do with you;”  once you show signs of  ‘Senility.’    Dj.

Been There: Done That.


I sit in my recliner and dream of places to go and things to do.  With a road map at the ready and countless brochures scattered around, I plan mini-vacations to exotic locales only to be reminded by my child bride of, (better than 60 years); that we have visited these sites in the past.

Discussions; (sometimes heated), arise over the when and where of these trips, and I am informed that I suffer from an acute case of C.R.S.  Since my wife possesses a mind like a steel trap, she does her best to convince me that the place in question was where she discovered those rare earrings and that favorite blouse.

“Besides,” she states:  “Who wants to wander around and look at rusted farm equipment?  If you are determined to go somewhere, we could browse in the stores at that new mall.”

Rejection of my elaborate plans to attend a Bluegrass Festival, is accompanied by; “You’ve seen one. Isn’t that enough?” Or “I can’t stand that whiny singing.  Why don’t we invite Jean and Dave to go with us to the shoe outlet?  I am sure that they have many new styles to choose from since we were there.”

Despondent, I return to the maps and brochures, hoping against hope, that “Pedro’s Alligator Farm ” will spark enough interest for at least a “Maybe.”  My conniving brain begins to work overtime and I arrive at the conclusion that the only solution to this major dilemma would be to find a unique attraction which also includes a series of outlet shops on or near the premises.

Ahh: At last.  The perfect place.  “Junior’s Used Auto Parts and Hardware Emporium.”  Admission:  Adults  –  $1.00.  Children  –  $.50.  Senior Citizens  –  65 & over,  FREE.  Conveniently located next door to “Faye’s Tee Shirt and Jewelry Bazaar.”  Here is reason enough for anticipation to replace the ultimate dismissal of an idea as so much folly.

This is serious business.  Having never shopped at Faye’s, she even becomes excited.  “I’ll call Jean to find out which day would be convenient with her,” she says.  “You may even want to ask Dave to go with us, if you need someone to talk to, while Jean and I are busy.”

Not even the usual, “You’ve been there, done that, and forgot it,” sallied forth as she began to make lists of the things which she absolutely could not live without.  Perhaps the nearest she would come to admitting that the idea had merit was her remark that;

[“Perhaps, you can find a starter for your truck, and we will not have to push to start it.  Now, drive over and get Jean while I figure out which credit card is not maxed out.”]


Things like this sort of makes one wonder; “just where I achieved my ‘world-renowned’ outlook on the captivating ‘tourist-traps’ within our budget range.”    “There are literally times when I astonish myself with my remarkable endurance; when surrounded with lessor beings.     Dj.

You won’t believe this!

I once heard the story of an elephant that had escaped from a Zoo and had wandered into a backyard garden and was eating cabbages. The lady of the house had never seen a real live elephant, and when she spied this enormous animal in the process of raiding her garden, she immediately called the police.

“There’s a big, grey animal in my garden and it’s pulling up my cabbages, ‘with his tail;” she excitedly told the officer.  She was asked, “What is it doing with them?” Thinking for a moment, the lady replied, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

A little far-fetched I know; but at some point in our lives, we all have been witness to occurrences for which we had no logical explanation. Many times we feel that we must relate these incidents to others, and standard procedure ordains that we preface our remarks with the words; “You will not believe this but…”

Are we in fact planting a seed of doubt in their minds beforehand in order to alleviate skepticism that we ourselves feel toward the incident?  If the event is indeed true, then we owe no obligation as to the creditability of our statement regarding the phenomenon.

To further complicate the matter, sometimes we add, “I didn’t believe it myself but…!”  If the event is so unbelievable, why are we bothering to describe it in the first place?  Are we concerned that perhaps our anxiety is such that we seek solace in an accomplice that could share our distress?

There are usually logical explanations to most of these happenings, if only we would examine them in detail. Then, we would not feel required to begin our rendition of

           “You won’t believe this, but this flying saucer landed in my cow pasture; and several little green men got out and asked me to take them to my leader.  I mean, real ugly men in spacesuits.  Why, I was scared to death.  They started to take me into their flying saucer and…”

“I was real lucky:” “I woke up.”


“WHAT??  You don’t believe me?”


Some have it: Some don’t.

In the era when I got my ‘walking-legs;’ children of age’s 2-14, did not venture into the realm of ‘The Big City; unless accompanied by an adult.  At least; this was what I was taught, and therefore considered it law.’

Can you imagine my surprise when “Bob,” approached me at recess; to ask if I wanted to go with him to Town on Saturday, afternoon?  I asked him who would carry us.  He responded with a smirk; “We Thumb, Dummy!”  

I had heard boys in High School use the word; but I did not apply it to asking strangers for a ride.  I agreed to go with him, if I could come up with an excuse to get away from the farm, that day.

We met at the Hardware Store, that was the last building located street-side of Highway 104; and was the main thoroughfare to the big town of ‘Plank City.’       We stood on the side of the road for what seemed to me, was hour’s; but was probably, only 5 minutes or so.

Bob had cautioned me to stay behind that R.C. Cola sign, and he would catch the ride for us, because he knew how to Thumb.’  I asked him just what it took; and he grinned and replied;  “Good looks, like mine; sure does help.”

He stood facing the road with a big grin on his face; his left arm outstretched, and the thumb elevated.  Most of the traffic passed without noticing the two young travelers.  The only vehicle that slowed was a Model “A” Ford Coupe.

The driver pointed to me, and said;  “Young Fellow; You  get in here with me, and your partner can ride in the “Rumble-Seat.”  I could tell, right off the bat; that Bob did not like the remark; but after all; it was a ride.

However; he did climb into the Rumble Seat among the clutter of empty oil-cans; chicken crates, various feed sacks, old tires, and inner-tubes,  The driver dropped us at the Theater, and puttered on his way.

Bob was fit-to-be-tied.’  “Damn Rumble Seat,” He muttered;  “Just look at my hair. Them Waitresses at the Diner won’t give me a second glance.”  “Why did he ask you to ride with him?”  “I was Just lucky, I guess.”  I replied.

“I’m hungry.”  Bob said.  “Let’s go to Buck’s Restaurant,’ and get something to eat.  “You got  any money?”  “Yeah.” I replied. “I’ve got the $2.00, that I sold that ‘scattered-cotton’ to the Gin for.”

We went the door at Bucks;” and  Bob headed for the Bar, instead of sitting at a table.  Buck yelled across the room;  “Hey; Spaghetti – head?”  “You ain’t old enough to drink!”  “You gonna eat, or what?”  Bob just swiveled up, right there; but he did move to a table.

Something that few folks knew about Bob is that;  “He takes pride in the fact that he has never eaten the ‘first piece of meat’ in his entire life.”  Mabel; the waitress, came over to our table and said;  “What in the Hell happened to your head, Bob?”  “Looks like you’ve been in a ‘Whirlwind!”  “Whata-ya want to eat?” 

“The usual;” Bob replied; “A Hot-Dog; All The Way:”  “I know the rest.” said Mabel.”  “But Leave out The Weenie!”  She added. 

We ate and then; sat in “Th’ Show,” ’til sundown.  When we come out; ‘Lo an’ b’hold’, Buster Forbes, was coming out of th’ Drug Store. When he saw me: he turned around and asked me if I would ‘ride home with him.’

He told Bob that I could ride with him but; there, ‘Wasn’t enough room for him, in that tiny, “German” car of his’un.”  It was one of the first “Bed-Bugs,” or “Beetles” that ‘Maurice Jenkins’ had sold him from his ‘Used Car Lot.’

That set Bob off again.  I sure was glad that Buster let me ride home with him, ’cause I didn’t think much of “Thumbing.”   “Sorta like the Title:  “Some Have It; and Some ain’t got it.”   

After that episode; Bob never asked me to go anywhere with him.  And because of this; I never learned how to “THUMB.”


After I had gotten my drivers license: I used to see Bob on the side of the Highway with his “Thumb”  stuck out.  You know?  It’s a funny thing:  “Bob would never ride anywhere with me, since that day we; “Thumbed to Town; and Bob rode in the rumble-seat.”       Dj.




Headlines (on a slow News Day).

Something Went Wrong in Jet Crash,  Expert Says.
[No!  Really?]

Police Begin Campaign to Run Down Jaywalkers.
[Now that’s taking things a bit far!]

Is There a Ring of Debris around Uranus?
[Not if I wipe thoroughly!]

Panda Mating Fails; Veterinarian Takes Over.
[What a guy!]

Miners Refuse to Work after Death.
[Those good-for-nothing, lazy, so-and-so’s!]

Juvenile Court to Try Shooting Defendant.
[That just might work better than a fair trial!  Ya-think?]

War Dims Hope for Peace.
[I can see where it might have that effect!]

If Strike Isn’t Settled Quickly, It May Last Awhile.
[Now;  That is Profundity.]

Cold Wave Linked to Temperatures.
[Who would have thought!]

Enfield [London] Couple Slain; Police Suspect Homicide.
[They may be on to something!]

Red Tape Holds Up New Bridges.
[You mean there’s something stronger than Duct Tape?]

Man Struck By Lightning: Faces Battery Charge.
[He probably IS the battery charge!]

New Study of Obese Folks; Looks for Larger Test Group.
[They may have to fatten their own!]

Astronaut Takes Blame for Gas in Spacecraft.
[That’s what he gets for leaving the ‘Beano’ home!]

Kids Make Nutritious Snacks.
[I am told, “It Tastes like chicken?”]

Local High School Dropouts Cut in Half.
[Chainsaw Massacre all over again!]

Hospitals are Sued by 7 Foot Doctors.
[Only seven!  Are the rest rather short?  Or What?]


And the winner is….

Typhoon Rips Through Cemetery; Hundreds Dead!
[Okay, already;  It was a rather large Cemetery!]       Dj.

Changing Times

I go back quite a way, to when the world was simpler.  If there were any cute little expressions then, they meant something rather than just silly banter.  For instance, if you “reached out and touched someone,” chances were, you got your ‘nose re-shaped,’ if her husband was near-by.

We didn’t have to “loovvee this place” in order to enjoy the food in a particular restaurant.  And, not only, did we NOT wear our hats backwards, we removed them upon entering the establishment.

If on occasion a product did have a jingle, we took it seriously. In fact; I wondered for days on end, just where the yellow went when I brushed my teeth with Pepsodent.” 

I could almost smell the guy with the fog-horn voice when he said that Life Buoy stops “Beee Ooooh.”  We had seen the dutch girl, “chasing dirt” every time we used the cleanser.

We depended on advertisers to tell us what their products would do for us. We did not need or want someone jumping and dancing around with a soft drink in his hand to tell us that the drink was good.  Just ask us to try it.  We try it and we like it;  Therefore, we purchase it again.  Simple, huh?  “Why pay celebrates big money to praise their product?”  If it is as good as they say; ‘I would do it for nothing.”

Some of the ads today are so asinine, that I’m sure the ad councils consider everyone to be a bunch of imbeciles.  Why do they think that I will buy a product because some dumb-ass ‘jumped into a well in the desert, opened a beer and it began snowing?

It really has reached a new low when they resort to ‘bungee jumping’ and the only thing left is a pair of shoes.  That is not cute or even innovative.  It is sickening.  I wonder just how many people have thought of trying this stunt.

These ads have gotten so bad that they have to caution people, “not to try it at home”.  Why then, is it necessary for us to be subjected to this idiotic display on television?

The maximum speed limit is 65 mph, nationwide; yet an automobile is depicted traveling at top speed on curving mountain roads and they are telling me that they have more power than the competitor:   BUT, “we are not to use this power at home”. Why should we buy it if we cannot use it?

Thank God for the invention of the remote control.  With this device, I do not have to watch or listen to some moron doing the impossible, simply because he uses this or that product.

Even the Hospitals have gotten in on the act.  The Nurse comes into my room and asks, “Is our back better?”  or,  “Does our head still hurt?”  or  “Have we had our breakfast yet?”  “Are we ready for our bath?”

I’m sure you have experienced this, if you have ever been a ‘victim’ of ‘cute-banter’, from ‘Medical-School Rejects.’  If not: I would advice, a word of “Caution:  This does not work both ways.

For instance;  While she was beside my bed; and  “We” were having our ‘pill-time;’   I accidentally touched “our thigh,”  and she slapped  “our face!”


“Just tell it like it is, brother.  We are tired of spending our hard-earned money to support some Idiots, who thinks they’re funny.”     Dj.



Tolt by Jay Henry

Hit mought be that y’all ain’t never hyeard uv boogers, y’all bein’ citified an all but theys around all rite. Why jus las Tuesday nite, me an Susie Mae wuz cummin back frum th store, and all uv a sudden Susie Mae says to me, “Jay Henry, honey, what if a booger jumped out at us frum mongst them bullace vines?”

I knowed rite off jus what she wuz gettin at. She wanted me to say I’d whup th daylites outten him an preteck her, but I jus tolt her that I recconed she could hold her own.

Now Susie Mae has allways been kind uv skittish ’round boogers so she didn’t say nothin rite off, an I knowed she wuz fixin to fling a fit. She ain’t been jus rite since that haint got atter her las fall. I finaly says to her, “You knows that I ain’t gonna let no booger nor no haint, jus tote you off.”  I seed her eyes commence to glaze over, and I knowed she wuz gittin alrite, so I jus let hit go.

We’s jus gittin to the path up to the shack when a ‘limb fell off that old pine tree; thare, rite nex to the road, an I bet a quarter that Susie Mae jumped ’bout two foot of’n th’ ground.’ I done what I could to cyalm her down, an when we gits on up to the house I tolt her I wuz gonna look ’round some an see iffen everythin were alrite.

She says ta’ me; She sez,  “I spec you’d better unlock th’ door fust;  ’cause I’s got to change my teddys.”

We’uns went down there in Florider back in th’ winter, an Susie Mae commence to tell Rocky Phil ’bout them haints an boogers.  He says ta her, “Ma; they ain’t no sech thang. You ort’n ta’ know that!”

I figger’d, rite off; that I better step in an learn that young’un some sense, so I said, “Boy, you sass your mammie like that agin an’ youy’ll, “tote a whuppin.”  Susie Mae grinned rale big an then she looked at him an’ said, “See; Mr. smarty pants.”

We’d hyeard ’bout them fellers down at th store bein bothered by boogers and haints, an hit seems like hit always wuz of a Tuesday when they seen em. Don’t recon nobody knows why they pick that nite to prowl ’round but they does.

Now, when I sez to Susie Mae, “Lets us go down to th store an set a spell with Sylas an Miss Mazzie,” she axes me which day hit is.  Iffen I tell’s her hits Tuesday, she jus rolls her eyes an sez, “I’s got to arn my Sundy frock, an’ roll my hair.  “I ain’t got no time fer settin round an’ gabbin.”

Hit shore ain’t that she’s sykert or nothin’.  She’s jus’ jubus uv’ goin’ anyplace on Tuesday nites.

Jay Henry

Writ by Demijon.


Yes, I remember when the days seemed much longer. When Christmas was at least two years away, and it was an eternity until the weather became warm enough to remove shoes and feel newly sprouted grass between one’s toes. To spend time dreaming of all the things that heretofore had eluded us because we were still a child.

These are dreams of being grown up; having a job, and most importantly, being allowed to do just as we pleased. Today our wish could be, to become a pilot and fly to foreign lands. Tomorrow we may want the exciting life of a Cowboy and see justice done to the cattle rustlers.

Rescuing the fair maiden from the clutches of the evil landlord became an obsession with us. Flying through the air with our cape fluttering behind us.  Searching for wrongdoers was simply second nature to those of us who possessed super powers.

Suddenly we were at the crossroads. We were grown up. The job that we looked forward to for so long was swiftly becoming a burden.  Our super powers had faded and instead of searching for good deeds to do, our concentration is focused on providing a somewhat decent livelihood for the fair maiden who had succeeded in capturing our hearts.

We listen to the complaints from our own children about the length of time until Christmas. Our careers of Jet-Pilots, Cowboys, and Heroes, have long since been replaced by the drudgery of a much less exciting lifestyle. Yet we endure it with thoughts that one day; yea, one day, we will leave it all behind and retire.

Along with this dream of retirement comes unexpected strife. Inability to survive on what once was considered an acceptable pension, prompts one to seek an additional source of income, hence, a part-time job.

This was definitely not part of the original plan. We had never given any thoughts to the fact that, along with supplementing our livelihood with part-time work, would also, create the added hardship of deteriorating health. This means that “medication” would become as much a part of our daily intake, as our food.

Although our responsibilities are somewhat less after retirement, they have been replaced with anxiety; increased expenditures like taxes, higher prices for commodities to maintain our standard of living,

Even the decrease in the reliability of necessary appliances, places a severe strain on what we had once thought of as a small fortune.  Just ‘getting-by’ has taken precedence over the ‘dreamed-of”  task of rescuing fair maidens, and bringing wrongdoers to justice.

At this point in our lives, all that we can wish for is perhaps the most important; and possibly, the most sought-after component, of our complicated existence. The one thing which was probably the ‘last thing we would have wished for as a child’…



After a couple hours, relaxing in a soft recliner, with soft music, and a warm blanket, the dreams of having super powers is only a memory that we will cherish.    Dj.