Tuesday, May 22, 2012
In my mind I'm going to Carolina
It's spring , so you know it is time for the annual Roots Tour of The Fabulous Ma'am. Since the weather is still cool, the flowers are in bloom and the Yankees have not yet descended like locust on the Atlantic Seaboard . Perfect for my trek with Tom Berenger to visit The Cousins. You may remember my cousins live on the family plantation, everybody having their own house ( not like The Ewings in Dallas. I never understood with all that oil money, why they couldn't get out from under Jock and Miss Ellie) and no neighbors except siblings. My Great Uncle JD passed away and there was a time we feared The Yankees would take Tara, so to speak. But all is well, and as has been the habit for decades, three generations are all together and ready for family far and wide to come stay.
Like all Southern folks, The Cousins want to see about you. This means they cook and you just visit.You are allowed to bring liquor and the type or brand is not important. You are occassionally allowed to take them to lunch, but only after they ok the place(. Remember about the issue of whether or not the grease has been changed). Tinny and I like to run the roads, go to the cemetaries and dig for flowerbulbs. Tom Berenger runs with Tinny's husband, Ben Casey, and the naturalist Harold Barnum. They hit the Intercoastal before the sun is up and return in time to eat. Peg, Tinny's sister and partner in crime, stays home and fixes dinner while we are gallivanting all over the county. Peg says she is just throwing something together. The something is Clams Casino for 50 as an appetizer. Did I mention Peg dug the clams? Oh yes. Then we have Shrimp Fried Rice and Shrimp Egg Rolls. As you remember, The Cousins only eat seafood caught by other family members and they put Forrest Gump to shame on ways to prepare it. They are branching out from the tried and fried standards.
Peg has a husband who cracks me up. He informed me he was quite the catch as far as husband material went. He possesses both a drivers license AND a full set of teeth, making him the equivalent to a contestant on The Bachelor in Brunswick County. Buddy is the quintessential Good Ole Boy. For those not from our area, there is a huge difference between A Good Ole Boy and A Redneck. Rednecks are fun to party with (think Lynard Skynard audience) while a Good Ole Boy is the one you marry. George W. is a Good Ole Boy. So is Tom Berenger. I didn't make this rule up. I saw it on National Geographic. Remember National Geo is the first place most people saw naked people outside of your blood kin. So they are pretty scientific and know what they are talking about.
Tom B. loves the cousins because they are all "quite outdoorsy" just like he is. He would live there in a second but since there are no oil fields, not much need for his expertise. That's when he comes up with the idea that he is going to fish professionally. Didn't that little Jacques Cousteau do that?Poor little Jack did not look good from all that sun. Like a little French raisin, he was always so peppy, oblivious to the melanoma that was fixin to eat him up. Somebody should have gotten him a big fly fishing hat with a string so it didn't blow off the Calypso. You would think a stylist would have been consulted before poor little Jack took off in that little knitted skull cap. And another thing, that Calypso didn't look too swanky to me. Calypso makes me think Planters Punch and steel band. Not skin cancer and a ski cap. I just don't get the concept of using a boat with such potential for such a blue collar operation. I digress.
One of my favorite visits on this trip was with my cousin that used to be in the war with me. . RJ came down from Winston to the beach. It seemed like he would never get to the house and I was out in the road looking because we all know that makes the car come faster. Finally, the car drove up and The Fabulous Ma'am ran ( a shock to all to behold) off the porch and just jumped on RJ. We hugged and laughed and just looked at each other. We had not been together since I was in preschool. He was almost grown at the time, 2nd grader I believe.
We loved war.We learned tactics from watching Rat Patrol and Combat. Our other cousin, GW, had all the weapons an army could ask for and occasionally I got to be his recruit. That was only during minor battles, and when we lost, I went before the firing squad for treason. I think this is when being an Axis power became appealing. I got more satisfaction out of being THE ENEMY, since I was totally involved throughout the campaign. No matter where the battle, be it European , Pacific Theater, or in the African Desert, I was always the star .I was a Nazi. Sometimes I was a Japanese.(red hair and freckles didn't fool this soldiers). RJ and Brother were always Marines. That being said, this was the first time we ever just sat and visited without me being tied to a tree.
Brother was always the commanding officer with RJ as second in command. Think of Brother as Patton ( no sympathy) and RJ was more General Bradley. Since I was the only girl cousin (Tinny and Co. were at the beach and we were in the country) I was a natural for the role of combatant or a POW and an integral part to the war effort. I imagine these days, such a daily occurrence would put me in child protective custody and Generals Patton & Bradley would face court martial. Those were gentler times.
Our most memorable mission, other than when I got shot, was when we dug the fox holes in the peanut field. Without the distraction of an XBOX, we were able to devote all our time to digging. Tunnelling had been a failure, so Brother came up with the idea of camouflaging the fox hole with a sheet of zinc from Old Daddy's barn. After the zinc was in place, we covered it with soil. Then brushed out any traces of footprints with a pine branch. It was perfect. So very perfect. Until we trapped Old Daddy.
That was super bad. It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. The boys got a spanking and I was spared, I think, because I had that protection via Geneva Convention.Or because I got behind Big Mama and cried like a girl. Old Daddy wouldn't spank a baby girl. Even a Nazi baby girl.
So on one fine day in April, two soldiers sat and reminisced. And like most reunions, we only thought about what was good, how the days back then went on forever, and how it had been way too long since our last time together. And how the 7 hours in that porch swing seemed like 15 minutes.
God bless my family. And our troops. Wherever they may be.
I remain,
The Fabulous Ma'am
.
Like all Southern folks, The Cousins want to see about you. This means they cook and you just visit.You are allowed to bring liquor and the type or brand is not important. You are occassionally allowed to take them to lunch, but only after they ok the place(. Remember about the issue of whether or not the grease has been changed). Tinny and I like to run the roads, go to the cemetaries and dig for flowerbulbs. Tom Berenger runs with Tinny's husband, Ben Casey, and the naturalist Harold Barnum. They hit the Intercoastal before the sun is up and return in time to eat. Peg, Tinny's sister and partner in crime, stays home and fixes dinner while we are gallivanting all over the county. Peg says she is just throwing something together. The something is Clams Casino for 50 as an appetizer. Did I mention Peg dug the clams? Oh yes. Then we have Shrimp Fried Rice and Shrimp Egg Rolls. As you remember, The Cousins only eat seafood caught by other family members and they put Forrest Gump to shame on ways to prepare it. They are branching out from the tried and fried standards.
Peg has a husband who cracks me up. He informed me he was quite the catch as far as husband material went. He possesses both a drivers license AND a full set of teeth, making him the equivalent to a contestant on The Bachelor in Brunswick County. Buddy is the quintessential Good Ole Boy. For those not from our area, there is a huge difference between A Good Ole Boy and A Redneck. Rednecks are fun to party with (think Lynard Skynard audience) while a Good Ole Boy is the one you marry. George W. is a Good Ole Boy. So is Tom Berenger. I didn't make this rule up. I saw it on National Geographic. Remember National Geo is the first place most people saw naked people outside of your blood kin. So they are pretty scientific and know what they are talking about.
Tom B. loves the cousins because they are all "quite outdoorsy" just like he is. He would live there in a second but since there are no oil fields, not much need for his expertise. That's when he comes up with the idea that he is going to fish professionally. Didn't that little Jacques Cousteau do that?Poor little Jack did not look good from all that sun. Like a little French raisin, he was always so peppy, oblivious to the melanoma that was fixin to eat him up. Somebody should have gotten him a big fly fishing hat with a string so it didn't blow off the Calypso. You would think a stylist would have been consulted before poor little Jack took off in that little knitted skull cap. And another thing, that Calypso didn't look too swanky to me. Calypso makes me think Planters Punch and steel band. Not skin cancer and a ski cap. I just don't get the concept of using a boat with such potential for such a blue collar operation. I digress.
One of my favorite visits on this trip was with my cousin that used to be in the war with me. . RJ came down from Winston to the beach. It seemed like he would never get to the house and I was out in the road looking because we all know that makes the car come faster. Finally, the car drove up and The Fabulous Ma'am ran ( a shock to all to behold) off the porch and just jumped on RJ. We hugged and laughed and just looked at each other. We had not been together since I was in preschool. He was almost grown at the time, 2nd grader I believe.
We loved war.We learned tactics from watching Rat Patrol and Combat. Our other cousin, GW, had all the weapons an army could ask for and occasionally I got to be his recruit. That was only during minor battles, and when we lost, I went before the firing squad for treason. I think this is when being an Axis power became appealing. I got more satisfaction out of being THE ENEMY, since I was totally involved throughout the campaign. No matter where the battle, be it European , Pacific Theater, or in the African Desert, I was always the star .I was a Nazi. Sometimes I was a Japanese.(red hair and freckles didn't fool this soldiers). RJ and Brother were always Marines. That being said, this was the first time we ever just sat and visited without me being tied to a tree.
Brother was always the commanding officer with RJ as second in command. Think of Brother as Patton ( no sympathy) and RJ was more General Bradley. Since I was the only girl cousin (Tinny and Co. were at the beach and we were in the country) I was a natural for the role of combatant or a POW and an integral part to the war effort. I imagine these days, such a daily occurrence would put me in child protective custody and Generals Patton & Bradley would face court martial. Those were gentler times.
Our most memorable mission, other than when I got shot, was when we dug the fox holes in the peanut field. Without the distraction of an XBOX, we were able to devote all our time to digging. Tunnelling had been a failure, so Brother came up with the idea of camouflaging the fox hole with a sheet of zinc from Old Daddy's barn. After the zinc was in place, we covered it with soil. Then brushed out any traces of footprints with a pine branch. It was perfect. So very perfect. Until we trapped Old Daddy.
That was super bad. It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. The boys got a spanking and I was spared, I think, because I had that protection via Geneva Convention.Or because I got behind Big Mama and cried like a girl. Old Daddy wouldn't spank a baby girl. Even a Nazi baby girl.
So on one fine day in April, two soldiers sat and reminisced. And like most reunions, we only thought about what was good, how the days back then went on forever, and how it had been way too long since our last time together. And how the 7 hours in that porch swing seemed like 15 minutes.
God bless my family. And our troops. Wherever they may be.
I remain,
The Fabulous Ma'am
.
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