A Few of FR's Finest....Every Day Weekend, 09-14,15-02

A Few of FR's Finest.....
......Every Day

FR is a Treasure Trove of talented, compassionate, patriotic, wonderful people who gather every day to discuss the latest news and issues; salute
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of concerned citizens and patriots from all around the country and the world.

A Few of FR's Finest November 11, 2001

So many people have written me since my original Veteran's Day Tribute, asking how they, or a loved one, could be included in that tribute. Since I can no longer add the photos to the body of the thread, I've been including them in additional posts as I received enough to make another collage.

Still that doesn't seem to be enough. I think there's never been a better nor more appropriate time to keep the faces of our own Veterans and Active Military in front of FReepers--every day! That's why I wanted to do yet another Daily Thread .....ABOUT FReepers .....and FOR FReepers. But not only about our Military FReepers; for all FReepers! Wouldn't it be nice to get to know a few of the other FReepers as well? That's why, in addition to seeing FR's Finest Military Personnel every day, I thought it might be fun to feature a different FReeper (or FReepers) each day. If you would like to be pictured, or know someone who would, please FReepmail me and we'll turn the spotlight - on YOU - for the day!

And do let me know if you'd like your picture added to the groups of Veterans/Active Military below. I will keep this page updated, and continue to add them to the comment section of the original Veteran's Day thread as well.

TOP: g'nad, AgThorn's son Justin, SLB, AgThorn's son Brett

MIDDLE: fish70, razorback-bert, CheneyChick,Leroy S Mort, Mark17

BOTTOM: Terry's Take, Taxman, DinkyDau

TOP: ValerieUSA's son Grant, SK1Thurman, kd5cts, RangerVetNam,

dansangel and .45man's son-in-law Tony

BOTTOM: rangerX, Old China Hand, Trish, Howlin's dad, Mustang

TOP: ohioWfan's son, MamaBear's father-in-law, MamaBear's dad, ladtx

MIDDLE: The Mayor's niece, M.Kehoe, Beach_Babe's son-in-law

BOTTOM: deadhead's dad, HiJinx, Severa's hubby, viligantcitizen's granddad.

TOP: Q6-God, Scan59, Mama Bear and JKPhoto's son, ofMagog

MIDDLE: Big'ol_freeper, JustAmy's great uncle, Prodigal Son

BOTTOM: JustAmy's husband, JustAmy's brother-in-law, JustAmy's brother.

TOP: dakine's wife, MeeknMing's dad, Auntbee's nephew, MilitiaMan7,
AlasBabylon.
BOTTOM: Joe Brower, Temple Owl, Temple Owl's wife, dutchess' dad,
Aomagrat

And a true Southerner knows you don't scream obscenities at little old ladies who drive 30 on the freeway -- you say, "Bless her heart" and go your way.

Loved this. I'm in Texas and think we tend to be more southern than western in our outlook, when we're not being contrarily Texan. Your post reminded me of the old essay on "Bless your heart" that made the email rounds quite some time ago. I have no idea who wrote it, but it's cute:

BLESS YOUR HEART

Someone once noted that a Southerner can get away with the most awful kind of insult just as long as it's prefaced with the words "Bless her heart" or "Bless his heart."

As in, "Bless his heart, if they put his brain on the head of a pin, it'd roll around like a BB on a six-lane highway." Or, "Bless her heart, she's so bucktoothed, she could eat an apple through a picket fence."

There are also the sneakier ones that I remember from tongue-clucking types of my childhood: "You know, it's amazing that even though she had that baby seven months after they got married, bless her heart, it weighed 10 pounds!"

As long as the heart is sufficiently blessed, the insult can't be all that bad, at least that's what my Great-aunt Tiny (bless her heart, she was anything but) used to say.

I was thinking about this the other day when a friend was telling me about her new Northern friend who was upset because her toddler is just beginning to talk and he has a Southern accent. My friend, who is very kind and, bless her heart, cannot do a thing about those thighs of hers, so don't even start, was justifiably miffed about this.

After all, this woman had CHOSEN to move south a couple of years ago. "Can you believe it?" she said to my friend. "A child of mine is going to be taaaallllkkin' a-liiiike thiiiissss." I can think of far worse fates than speaking Southern for this adorable little boy, who, bless his heart, must surely be the East Coast king of mucus.

I wish I'd been there. I would have said that she shouldn't fret, because there is nothing so sweet or pleasing on the ear as a soft, Southern drawl. Of course, maybe we shouldn't be surprised at her "carryings on." After all, when you come from a part of the world where "family silver" refers to the large medallion around Uncle Vinnie's neck, you just have to, as Aunt Tiny would say, "consider the source."

Now don't get me wrong. Some of my dearest friends are from the North, bless their hearts. I welcome their perspective, their friendships and their recipes for authentic Northern Italian food. I've even gotten past their endless complaints that you can't find good bread down here.

The ones who really gore my ox are the native Southerners who have begun to act almost embarrassed about their speech. It's as if they want to bury it in the "Hee Haw" cornfield.

We've already lost too much. I was raised to swanee, not swear, but you hardly ever hear anyone say that anymore, I swanee you don't. And I've caught myself thinking twice before saying something is "right much," "right close" or "right good" because non-natives think this is right funny indeed.

I have a friend from Bawston who thinks it's hilarious when I say I've got to "carry" my daughter to the doctor or "cut off"" the light. That's OK. It's when you have to explain things to people who were born here that I get mad as a mule eating bumblebees. Not long ago, I found myself trying to explain to a native Southerner what I meant by being "in the short rows." I'm used to explaining that expression (it means you've worked a right smart but you're almost done) to newcomers to the land of buttermilk and cold collard sandwiches (better than you think), but to have to explain it to a Southerner was just plain weird.

The most grating example is found in restaurants and stores where nice, Magnolia-mouthed clerks now say "you guys" instead of "y'all," as their mamas raised them up to say. I'd sooner wear white shoes in February, drink unsweetened tea and eat Miracle Whip instead of Duke's than utter the words, "you guys." Not long ago, I went to lunch with four women friends, and the waiter, a nice Southern boy, you-guys-ed all of us within an inch of our lives. "You guys ready to order? What can I get for you guys? Would you guys like to keep you guys' forks?" Lord, have mercy.

It's a little comforting that, at the very same time some natives are so eager to blend in, they've taken to making microwave grits (an abomination), the rest of the world is catching on that it's cool to be a Clampett.

How else do you explain NASCAR tracks and Krispy Kreme doughnut franchises springing up like yard onions all over the country? To those of you who're still a little embarrassed by your Southernness, take two tent revivals and a dose of redeye gravy and call me in the morning.

Bless your heart.

"Bless his heart, that kid is so ugly they have to tie a pork chop around his neck to get the dog to lick him."

"Bless his heart, he's so ugly he has to sneak up on a glass of water to get a drink."

Translations for What Men Say:

"I'm going fishing."
Means..."I'm going to drink myself dangerously stupid and stand by a stream with a stick in my hand, while the fish swim by in complete safety."

"It's a guy thing."
Means..."There is no rational thought pattern connected with it, and you have no chance at all of making it logical."

"Can I help with dinner?"
Means..."Why isn't dinner already on the table?"

"Uh huh", "Sure honey," or "Yes dear."
Means...Absolutely nothing; it is a conditioned response.

"It would take too long to explain."
Means..."I have no idea how it works."

"We're going to be late."
Means..."Now I have a legitimate excuse to drive like a maniac."

"I was listening to you. It's just that I have things on my mind."
Means..."I was wondering if that redhead over there is wearing a bra."

"Take a break honey, you're working too hard."
Means..."I can't hear the TV over the vacuum cleaner."

"That's interesting dear."
Means..."Are you still talking?"

"It's a really good movie."
Means.."It's got guns, knives, fast cars, and beautiful women."

"That's women's work."
Means..."It's difficult, dirty, and thankless."

"You know how bad my memory is."
Means..."I remember the theme song to 'F Troop', the address of the first girl I ever kissed, and the vehicle identification numbers of every car I've ever owned, but I forgot your birthday."

"I was just thinking about you and got you these roses."
Means..."The girl selling them on the corner was a real babe."

"Hey, I've got my reasons for what I'm doing."
Means..."And I sure hope I think of some pretty soon."

"I can't find it."
Means..."It didn't fall into my outstretched hands, so I'm completely clueless."

"What did I do this time?"
Means..."What did you catch me at?"

"You know I could never love anyone else."
Means..."I am used to the way you yell at me, and realize it could be worse."

"You look terrific"
Means..."Oh God, please don't try on one more outfit. I'm starving!"

"I'm not lost. I know exactly where we are."
Means..."No one will ever see us alive again."

"We share the housework."
Means..."I make the messes, she cleans them up."

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