- You’ve navigated using statues of Civil War heroes (meaning Lee and Jackson, of course)
- The mascot of your school is the “Confederates”
- When people talk about “The War” they mean the one that ended in 1865
- The Civil War is commonly referred to as “The War of Northern Aggression”
- Your teachers devote more time to the Civil War than any other event in history
- “States Rights” are still a valid concern
- Your state is still subject to the Voting Rights Act
- You mean it’s not normal to always have biscuit dough in the fridge?
- Gravy is a condiment.
- Anything can (and should be) fried, from a pig to a stick of butter
- Camo is considered a fashion statement
- Your family might have been living there for 4 generations, but if they arrived after 1865, you’re still a Damn Yankee Carpetbagger
My mother and I just had a long discussion (read: she talked and I sat there, awkwardly, trying to look innocent) about how adolescents are attracted to basically everyone due to raging hormones and whatnot. This means- according to my mother- that no one can really know if they’re anything other than perfectly straight until they’re done going through puberty. She says that it’s pointless to come out before then because it’ll probably change. The problem is that adolescents look at the people around them and can’t figure out if they want to be that person or date them. And by having things like Gay-Straight Alliances in middle and high schools, we’re telling these poor confused kids that they have to choose a sexual identity when they’re only 12 or 13. Then, they’ll have to deal with coming out straight when they realized the error of their ways once those dastardly hormones are gone.
Now, I love my mother and I think that she’s a wonderful, caring, intelligent woman. But, seriously? Kids are gay because they’re confused, and then we support them. That’s what she’s going with? (I also love how her basis for this is some research done in the 1950s and some misinterpretation of Margaret Mead’s work) Sadly, it’s times like this when I begin to understand how she voted for Sarah Palin.
I’ll be the first to admit that sexuality is more fluid than people tend to think. I don’t think anyone has the same level of attraction to any gender throughout their entire life. But that doesn’t mean that a person isn’t able to recognize their sexual identity when they’re a teenager just because they’re prey to raging hormones. By my mother’s logic, no one should be allowed to date until they’ve firmly escaped puberty, lest they be overwhelmed by their hormones and social pressures. But I don’t see anyone saying that straight kids are confused about their sexuality because they’re adolescents. It’s a truly unfair double standard and I’m very disappointed that my mother buys into it.
Then came my favorite part of the conversation. My mother reached the end of her diatribe, stopped, looked at me, and said “How did we even get on this topic?”
“I have no idea,” I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Now can we please have dinner?”
While reading my hometown newspaper yesterday, I found a letter to the editor that was at once amusing and disturbing. It’s one of those things I wish was made up but sadly can entirely believe.
Recent events need comment
Two recent events in neighboring areas are troubling and need comment. Once again, the will of the people have been trashed by the politically correct crowd led by radical liberal activists.
The appointment of Tracy Thorne-Begland to be a judge on the General District Court bench by the Richmond Circuit Court after the General Assembly turned him down is totally irresponsible and immoral. Why did local media and other liberals openly campaign to ignore the will of the people expressed through the duly elected delegates of the General Assembly?
Growing up on a half-mile long dirt road in the South, I always knew more than I wanted to about my neighbors. There were the Baptists, who disappeared every Wednesday and Sunday to the church at the end of the road. The family with the loud dogs who always called the fire department for our summer bonfires. At one end of the road, the drug dealing son of an old southern family. And at the other end, a pair of women and their son.