Soon after I left Sikeston this morning, I was in New Madrid the site of the Midwest's biggest and most disastrous earthquake. I stopped to check out the museum, but there wasn't any shaking going on. Soon after I crossed the Missouri into Tennessee.
Though I like the South in many ways, it is foreign to me in others.
It comes through first on the radio. I don't have a CD or tape player in my old car, so I depend on the radio. The farther south I go, the more religious stations dominate and fewer the public radio programs. It seems to be a ten to one ratio. Once I finally locate a public radio it is only good for half an hour then I must go back to seek-and-scan, trying to find something worth listening to
When I am stuck on a religious station, I hear what Jesus thinks on any subject from homosexuality to the Internet. In the south Jesus is pronounced JAY-zus, with the first syllable almost yelled in emphasis. JAY-zus disapproves of almost anybody or anything, it seems.
There are churches everywhere and seem to not get along all that well. One Baptist church is on the opposite side of the road to another. What could they disagree about? Though I expect the difference between the Macedonia Baptist Church and the First Baptist Church is a matter of complexion. There are many of those churches.
But there are also "adult toy" businesses just outside many of the towns with peep shows and nude dancers, more than I've ever seen anywhere else.
When I buy groceries, I listen to the conversations around me. By the time I crossed the Missouri River into Tennessee, one syllable words, suddenly added another. "Red" became "ray-ed".
The southern drawl becomes more pronounced as I go deeper into the South and it is catching. When I bought gas in Covington, Tennessee, the clerk told me she had moved from Chicago six months before. She already had the drawl. By the time I get back to Wisconsin I'll have caught the accent, too.
One thing of interest: Tennessee and Mississippi have the most stylish and beautiful welcome centers I've ever seen, much nicer than those in Wisconsin and Illinois.
Tonight I am in Grenada, Mississippi. With temperatures in the 70s in this unusual January, the conditions are right and I sit in the motel room watching the forecasters interrupt television programs to talk about the tornado watch. Nothing disastrous here, but the high winds are knocking out the Internet connection.
Tomorrow: Hattiesburg and on to the Gulf.
Though I like the South in many ways, it is foreign to me in others.
It comes through first on the radio. I don't have a CD or tape player in my old car, so I depend on the radio. The farther south I go, the more religious stations dominate and fewer the public radio programs. It seems to be a ten to one ratio. Once I finally locate a public radio it is only good for half an hour then I must go back to seek-and-scan, trying to find something worth listening to
When I am stuck on a religious station, I hear what Jesus thinks on any subject from homosexuality to the Internet. In the south Jesus is pronounced JAY-zus, with the first syllable almost yelled in emphasis. JAY-zus disapproves of almost anybody or anything, it seems.
There are churches everywhere and seem to not get along all that well. One Baptist church is on the opposite side of the road to another. What could they disagree about? Though I expect the difference between the Macedonia Baptist Church and the First Baptist Church is a matter of complexion. There are many of those churches.
But there are also "adult toy" businesses just outside many of the towns with peep shows and nude dancers, more than I've ever seen anywhere else.
When I buy groceries, I listen to the conversations around me. By the time I crossed the Missouri River into Tennessee, one syllable words, suddenly added another. "Red" became "ray-ed".
The southern drawl becomes more pronounced as I go deeper into the South and it is catching. When I bought gas in Covington, Tennessee, the clerk told me she had moved from Chicago six months before. She already had the drawl. By the time I get back to Wisconsin I'll have caught the accent, too.
One thing of interest: Tennessee and Mississippi have the most stylish and beautiful welcome centers I've ever seen, much nicer than those in Wisconsin and Illinois.
Tonight I am in Grenada, Mississippi. With temperatures in the 70s in this unusual January, the conditions are right and I sit in the motel room watching the forecasters interrupt television programs to talk about the tornado watch. Nothing disastrous here, but the high winds are knocking out the Internet connection.
Tomorrow: Hattiesburg and on to the Gulf.
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