Talking Southern

Bob, my brother of 70 years, and Betty, my almost-sister for almost as long, have incredibly detailed memories of our shared childhood in Cochran, Georgia.  Conversations with both of them take me on "little trips down memory lane"--hilarious only to those who were there. 

Only in the South do you hear people saying that they "love to death" some person or thing.  In reading South To America, I read that phrase with the delight of recognition of an old friend--the first time I've ever seen it in print.  Southerners she wrote,  "loved James Brown to death for two generations."

It's fun to encounter expressions that were casually spoken in childhood by people of the same generation.  Septuagenarian friends and family in Georgia all get it: we loved our musicians and movie stars "to death." We loved our boyfriends and girlfriends "to death"--if only until we broke up with them.  And often the expression is followed by "but."  "I love her to death but she drives me crazy." 

Southern accents are the most mimicked  of all.  As the author of South to America points out, Southern dialects vary from region to region within the South in ways that only Southerners can recognize. But many expressions cross over:

"Have you done your homework?" might be responded to with "I'm fixing to do it."

Fixing is an active verb, suggesting actually doing something to prepare for doing something else.  But in our lingo, it means, "I haven't done it yet, but now that you remind me, I will in a minute."

When Nellie and I were traveling in Italy together, we sat near enough another table to hear the women talking.  We both guessed what region of Georgia they came from.  (I remember I said Fort Valley--a tiny little town in Middle Georgia, not far from Perry where my mother grew up.) At the end of the meal, we asked them. Both Nellie's guess and mine were close.

The Southern accent imitated by people from outside the South is embarrassing to hear.  They ramp up the hokey to its highest pitch so that it's unrecognizable to native speakers.  They exaggerate the kind of Southern that we do ourselves when imitating, say, Dolly Parton.  Those of us who grew up with an ear (and Mother tongue) for talking Southern can mimic ourselves, but outsiders never get it right.  

Same with actors playing a Southern role.  A real Southerner has to turn it off--as non-Southern actors mangle it. 

Another uniquely Southern phrase is "Mama N'Em."  If you're going on a trip to see your mother, father, three aunts, two uncles, and seven  kids, you might say we're going to see "Mama N'Em."  Mama gets top billing.  "Mama and Them" includes everyone who might be over at Mama's house for dinner.

When Carlene and I are traveling, we can go into Mama N'Em lingo for miles and miles.  Wonder what Mama N'Em is cooking, wonder if Mama N'Em ever got the carport fixed after the storm, It's been so long since we seen Mama N'Em.  

Southerners rarely attempt to imitate the lingo, accent, or grammar of other regions.  Maybe because we've been the butt of linguistic jokes ourselves, maybe because it's just too hard to shape our mouths right to "do" other places.  But we can exaggerate our own drawls all day long and mangle the grammar accordingly.  It's like an insider's joke on ourselves.