A few years ago I finally retired, and after careful consideration and consultation with some of my family members, made the decision to leave my home of 65 years in the Washington, D.C. area, and travel south to the unfamiliar land of Georgia to be with family. And after one year here, I jotted down a few thoughts on my impressions of my new home away from home, to send to a Washington friend.

But first, for those readers who may be from the heart of Dixie, I sincerely hope I haven’t given offense — that is not my intention. It’s all in good fun. This is really a lovely place, filled with warm, friendly, good people. It’s just that it isn’t Washington, and it’s hard to change 65 years of habit, and impossible not to miss some things as they were. So, taking that into consideration, here we go . . .

“The great Tom Lehrer — one-time Harvard math professor turned songwriter/satirist/balladeer in the 1950s and ‘60s — wrote a shamefully irreverent song about the American South. He called it ‘I Wanna Go Back to Dixie,’ and if written today, it would have gotten him hanged from the nearest live oak tree, and not undeservedly so. A small sample:

‘Old times there are not forgotten,
Whuppin’ slaves and sellin’ cotton . . .’

“He called the South ‘that y’all and shut-my-mouth land’ (rhyming it with ‘southland’), and summed it up with the immortal, ‘Be it ever so decadent, there’s no place like home.’

“Lehrer was from New England, and as far as I know, never lived in the South. I’ve been here in rural Georgia for just over a year [at the time of the original writing], and not in Atlanta or any other large city, but out in the country about 30 miles from Savannah; and I can tell you that Tom Lehrer pretty much nailed it (except, of course, for the part about the slave-whuppin’). This is a place like no other I’ve encountered in my travels throughout the U.S., or anywhere else, for that matter. And they tell me this isn’t even the deepest of the deep South! The scenery is beautiful, but the lifestyle . . . well, it just isn’t Washington. Here are some of the differences that jump out at me:

Instead of: Apartment Buildings
Georgia has: Trailer parks

Instead of: Department stores
Georgia has: Dollar General stores

Instead of: Cathedrals
Georgia has: One-room churches

Instead of: Shopping malls
Georgia has: More Dollar General stores

Instead of: Gourmet restaurants
Georgia has: Cracker Barrel

Instead of: The Ellipse
Georgia has: Cotton fields

Instead of: Cherry blossoms
Georgia has: Spanish moss

Instead of: Koi ponds
Georgia has: Alligator ponds

Instead of: Street signs
Georgia has: “Turn right at the Dollar General”

Instead of: Risotto
Georgia has: Grits

Instead of: Ratatouille
Georgia has: Fried green tomatoes

Instead of: The Kennedy Center
Georgia has: Satellite TV

Instead of: Stir-fry
Georgia has: Deep-fried everything

Instead of: Veal Piccata
Georgia has: Barbecue

Instead of: Smithsonian Museum
Georgia has: More Satellite TV

Instead of: Uber, Taxis, and Buses
Georgia has: Trucks and motorcycles

Instead of: Food delivery
Georgia has: Curbside pickup

Instead of: Four distinct seasons
Georgia has: Two seasons: Summer, and Hell’s Front Porch

Instead of: The King’s English
Georgia has: ‘Y’all,’ ‘sho’ nuf,’ and words with no “g” on the end

*. *. *

“Again, I’m talking about the rural South, not cities like Atlanta and Savannah. And lest you form a completely negative impression of this exceptional bit of country real estate, let me assure you that there are many very positive aspects as well, such as:

– Peace and quiet.

– Light traffic (except when some clown in a pick-up tries to beat the train through the crossing).

– Low stress level . . . really low.

– Low crime rate. (Everyone owns and carries at least one gun, which is supposed to serve as a deterrent to the occasional would-be criminal. It seems to work — around here, at least.)

– Deer in the back yard.

– Deer poop in the back yard (maybe not so great).

– Low Country Boil

– Those fried green tomatoes — scrumptious!

– The sweetest, juiciest peaches in the world.

– Tybee and the other Islands

– People who call you ‘ma’am’ or ‘sir’ and hold the door open for you.

– Did I mention peace and quiet?

– And guns?”

*. *. *

So what do I do with all of this peace and quiet? Well, for the most part — in case you haven’t already figured it out — I write. There’s this blog, and poems to an old friend, and a book (which may even be published one day, if I’m very, very lucky). All of which I never seemed to find the time to do when I was living in D.C. and gainfully employed. Now, if I could only find a way to get paid for it . . .

But no one ever told me life was perfect.

I kid about the differences between country living and city life — and they are very, very different. But that doesn’t make one better than the other . . . just different. And those differences — just as with the differences among people — are what give life its zest. And what give me something to write about. As they say in France: Vive la difference! So, au revoir until next week.

Brendochka
7/13/23