Southern Confinement; or, Where's the Carburetor?

My lovely wife and I had a nice talk last night about what it means to be a Southern man. I was lamenting the fact that I am neither a handy person nor have ever killed a deer. My wife assured me that providing for my family and being a good husband and father was what defined my manhood, Southern or otherwise.

She was right, of course. I sometimes feel trapped by the expectations we Southerners have created for ourselves. I think we limit ourselves when we try to conform to a preconceived cultural standard. Nothing wrong with hunting, woodworking and having intimate knowledge of car engines, but I need not feel a lesser man for not being proficient in those activities.

I embrace certain aspects of the Southern mindset. I try to be courteous, hospitable and loyal. I think Southern food, and our version of tea, is the best in the world. I love country music.

But I also realize that we don't have a monopoly on the aforementioned friendly qualities. I appreciate good food no matter where it's from (love Italian). My musical tastes are eclectic – I can go from George Strait to The Police to P.O.D. to Mozart. If it's good music, it's good music.

One thing I know I can do is write. Being from Mississippi, I feel an obligation to be very good at what I do, even if I know I'm not in the league of Faulkner or Welty. I could easily fall into the trap of thinking I need to write about the things they wrote about, which isn't a bad idea, but I must remember to find my own voice and let that guide me.

It's what a man must do.

Today's Redneck Thought: "The government is not best which secures life and property. There is a more valuable thing – manhood." – Mark Twain