The Daily Nusz

Did ya notice the title?  The role of religion in our public schools?  Errr, there is not supposed to BE a role of religion in our public schools.

Check out this picture.  It was taken of the front of our local elementary school.  Yes, the school that Savannah and Declan are slated to attend . . .

Nice, huh?  Geesh.

The other day, while listening to National Public Radio, I heard a news story regarding the great influx of northerners who are coming to live in the south.  One speaker, an older woman who was born in the north and moved to Charlotte over 20 years ago, feels that she is still regarded as an outsider. 

My friend Stephanie moved to Charlotte from New Jersey when she was in the eighth grade.  She told me a story recently about an experience she had when she was enrolled in the public middle school, shortly after her move to Charlotte.  Hopefully I’ll get the gist of it right, but if not, please correct me, Stephanie.

A teacher, in the middle of a lesson, asked Stephanie if she knew the difference between a Yankee and a Damnyankee (I googled the term “damnyankee”, apparently it’s one word, not two).  When Stephanie said no, she replied, “A Yankee is a Northerner, and a Damnyankee is a northerner who comes to the south to stay”.  Stephanie replied, “Well, I guess I’m a Damnyankee then”.  The teacher responded by sending Stephanie to the principal’s office for saying the word “damn” in class. 

Maybe I’m ignorant to the derogatory nuances of the word Yankee, but I find the term humorous.   

I found the following on the internet:

You might be a Yankee if . . . 

1)  You think barbecue is a verb meaning “to cook outside”.

2)  You don’t have any problem pronouncing, “Worcestershire sauce” correctly.

3)  You don’t see anything wrong with putting a sweater on a poodle.

4)  You would rather vacation at Martha’s Vineyard than Six Flags.

5)  You would rather have your son become a lawyer than grow up to get his own TV fishing show.

6)  Instead of referring to two or more people as “y’all”, you call them “you guys”, even if both of them are women.

7)  You don’t think Howard Stern has an accent.

8)  None of your fur coats are homemade.

9)  You have never planned your summer vacation around a gun-and-knife show.

10)  You think more money should go to important scientific research at your university than to pay the salary of the head football coach.

11)  You eat fried chicken with a knife and fork.

12)  You don’t have any hats in your closet that advertise feed stores.

13)  You call binoculars opera glasses.

14)  You can’t spit out the car window without pulling over the side of the road and stopping.

15)  You would never wear an applique sweatshirt.

16)  You don’t know what applique is.

17)  You have no idea what a polecat is.

18)  You don’t know anyone with two first names (i.e. Joe Bob, Billy Bob, Kay Bob, Bob Bob)

19)  You’ve never had grain alcohol.

20)  You get freaked out when people on the subway talk to you.

21)  You’ve never, ever, eaten Okra.

Yep, I’m a Yankee.

Kevin is out of town this week.  And he was out of town last week.  In order to prepare Savannah for Daddy being gone so long, we told her how he was going on an airplane.  Well, everytime she sees an airplane, she waves and says, “Hi Daddy!”.  I wonder if she thinks his meetings are being held in the airplane, and they just fly ’round and ’round above our house?

Since Kevin is away, my neighbors have stepped up and greatly reduced the difficulty of being the only parent present.  On Wednesday night, my friends Ellen and Mike (and their three cute kids) invited us over for pizza.  Last night, Savannah was playing in the mud with her friends Nate, Adeline, and Ellie.  As the witching hour approached (bedtime, ugh), and I realized that Savannah was covered head to toe with mud and would need a bath at the same time as Dec, my neighbors Stephanie and Lou sent me ahead to get Dec to bed before bringing a very dirty Savannah home.  Then I had the luxury of spending time alone with Savannah while she ate dinner and had a bath.  Natasha, our neighbor across the street, works as a realtor in the neighborhood, and we are forever crashing into her office (accompanied with the stroller, toys, and snacks) to chat with her while she holds Dec and Savannah colors with all of her office markers.  Tonight, we had pizza with Stephanie’s family, Lou’s family, and Vicky and Erc.   The kids played, Dec gummed the pizza crust, and once again, I left Savannah to continue playing while I put Dec to bed.  Hmmmm, I don’t really need Kevin . . .

 We feel very blessed to have such good neighbors.  They are truly helping to make South Carolina feel like home.

There’s a saying in the south, “Bless Your Heart”.  Realize, when it’s said, the word “heart” turns into a two syllable word, like “haaarrr-ert”.  Often it’s uttered with one hand splayed across the heart, in order to emphasize the true emotion expressed by the speaker.  The meaning of the phrase can only be determined by the context in which it was spoken. 

It can be positive:  “You got a new job?  Bless your heart.”

It can be negative:  “You got arrested for shoplifting?  Bless your heart.”

It can be sympathetic:  “Your baby is nearly 8 months old and has only slept through the night one night?  Bless his heart.”

It can be tender:  “Look at that baby’s chubby cheeks.  Bless her heart.”

It can be gossipy:  ”Did you hear that his wife just ran off with an old college boyfriend?  Bless his heart.”

I have yet to utter these words.  But they are coming.  I can feel it.  It the perfect way to imply understanding/compassion/approval/agreement/etc. without saying much of anything at all.  It’s a way to be tactful, as the person who is the recipient of this phrase can interpret it anyway he/she wants.   It’s perfect.  Next time I receive a gift I might want to return, I’m going to say, “You picked this out yourself?  Bless your heart.”   Next time my friend whose children are behaviorally challenged says to me, “My daughter just won’t listen.  She hit me yesterday!”  I’m going to say, “Bless your heart.”  That’s probably much better than saying, “This is the worst gift I’ve ever received.  I’m going to regift it to a person I despise immediately.” or, “Your children should be floated out to sea during the next big storm, as they are so poorly behaved that even prison inmates would be frightened of them.” 

 Bless your haaarrr-ert.