Southern Living

I would be remiss if I didn't write about this subject. Southern living differs greatly from living anywhere else in the country, hell in the world. And it's not just the accent (or as they like to say, we don't have the accent you'uns do). There are cultural differences as well. There seems to be a church on every other corner, and the majority of those are Baptist churches.

So to get to the point...about a month ago, I was attending a festival in a small town called Saltville, which I learned on the way up there seeing a sign that it was the Salt capital of the confederacy. Ok I have to divert off topic for just a minute. You know I am a huge Oregon State Beaver fan. I am a Beaver Believer if you will. If the Beavers ever win the national championship, you better believe that I will first of all be there, but second of all watch the replays, by the DVD, etc. However, what I don't get, is why southerners would want to re-enact any battle of the Civil War. Do you not realize and recognize that you got your ass handed to you? Yeah...you lost. I wouldn't want to see a repeat of the Beavers choking in the national title game...so what gives?

Ok .... so back on topic...so I was at this festival...just walking around, looking at the different vendor tents. I can honestly say I have never seen such a hodge podge (yes I used that word, it was a category on Jeopardy! last night) of different vendors. You could get some deep fried Oreos, or hell...even some deep fried butter. Nothing sounds like arteries closing up like some deep fried butter..."Hey Billy Bob...I know you's saving the butter for the baked taters but ya know what might sound right tasty? Let's go ahead and deep fry that bad boy." So as I was walking around, checking out the scenery of the many variations of the mullet (business up front, partaaaay in the back) I saw something that made me do a double take. About 10 feet away from me, I saw this little girl that couldn't have been more than 8 or 9 years old, puffing away on cigar.

Now at first, my fatherly instincts wanted to kick him and rip that thing outta her mouth. However, I decided a lynching of some yankee was not my idea of how to end my life so I calmed myself down. It was then I came to realize that in the state of Virginia, where I was, tobacco is a huge money maker. So this child wasn't just smoking, she was supporting the economy one puff at a time. But hey...at least she didn't have a big chaw of redman in her cheek right? Or..did she???