Kirk Neely: 'You don't say!' Speaking Southern is more than accent or dialect

Recently, I was sitting in a doctor’s waiting room. When the receptionist called my name, a woman asked if I was the same Dr. Neely who wrote a weekly column for the Spartanburg Herald-Journal. She expressed her appreciation for my regular Sunday article. “It really helps my husband and I learn more about the Upstate and Spartanburg in particular.”

I thanked them for reading the newspaper. “My husband’s work has required moving frequently. We always subscribed to the local paper to help us become established. We’re Catholics so we also try to find a church right away.”

Her husband added, “We also try to find a good clean bowling alley and a reasonable facility to exercise. So, we joined the YMCA.”

They moved to our area from the other side of the Mason-Dixon Line. They asked about a local hockey team. I told them about the Swamp Rabbits in Greenville. In the course of our conversation, the husband expressed a concern.

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“My wife and I have lived here for nearly a year now. We really like the South. We have found it to be much friendlier than the North. We are trying to be real Southerners, but people here speak a different language.”

“Just be yourself,” I said. “You’ll probably get some good-natured teasing. Most Southerners would rather know you the way that you are than to have to deal with phoniness. Most folks can spot a fake as quickly as they can spot a three-dollar bill.”

“See, that’s what I mean. The Treasury doesn’t print three-dollar bills.”

“That’s right. They’re phony, counterfeit. Most people can spot a fake at twenty paces?”

“Twenty paces? How far is that?”

“About a 20-gauge shotgun range!”

He laughed.

Later I thought about his dilemma. What is it about our speech that identifies us as Southerners?

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Speaking Southern is more than accent or dialect, more than drawl or pace. It is the turning of a phrase. Our conversations take a little longer because we add extra syllables and words to our speech. Instead of saying another, we might say a whole ‘nuther.

Southern language uses frequent comparisons. If the weather is unusually warm, we say it is hotter than half of Georgia, hotter than a forty-dollar mule, hotter than goats in a pepper patch, or hotter than a five-dollar pistol.

In Southern vernacular, character traits are described in word pictures. If a person is frantic, we say they’re running around like a chicken with their head cut off. A stubborn person would argue with a fence post. A person who has been treated badly or abused looks like they’ve been rode hard and put up wet. An unfortunate fellow got the short end of the stick. An impetuous person goes off half-cocked. An inebriated guest has three sheets in the wind. An upset lady had her feathers ruffled. A person who is snobbish is acting above their raising. If a person is not so smart, we might say they’re two bricks short of a load or that their elevator won’t go all the way up.

We don't even bat an eye when these expressions are used. They are second nature to us. Many of our Southernisms are self-explanatory. Most anybody can figure out that a person who is counting his chickens before they hatch is being overly optimistic. If a husband and wife are like two peas in a pod, they seem well-suited for each other.

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There are times when we use expressions without even knowing where they came from or exactly what they mean.

I personally have never butchered hogs, but I know that when a fellow hits his thumb with a hammer, he is likely to holler like a stuck pig.

I haven’t done extensive research on the life cycle of raccoons, but I know that when something hasn’t happened in a coon’s age, it has been quite a while since the last occurrence. I do know enough about raccoon hunting to know that when a person is barking up the wrong tree, they are misdirected.

In the South, we even have expressions for those times when we don’t know what to say or we want to avoid saying something rude. Our responses to gossip add nothing to the conversation except to encourage more gossip.

“Aunt Bertha went to the doctor. She’s put on another twelve pounds.”

“Bless her heart!”

“I heard that Cora Lee ran off with a state trooper.”

“You don’t say!”

“Jim Bob lost another job. He’s drinking hard again.”

“Well, I’ll declare.”

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We also have expressions that might or might not signal an end to a conversation. “Hush your mouth!” and “Shut my mouth!” are two examples. We are probably saying goodbye when we say, “Y’all come,” or “What’s your rush?”

When Clare and I lived in Kentucky we had neighbors who hailed from the northern side of the Ohio River. These people had trouble saying goodbye. One night after they had thoroughly worn out their welcome, I said to Clare, “Sugar, we need to go to bed so these folks can go home.”

Clare’s father, Mr. Jack, used to say to guests who needed to leave, “Don’t let the screen door hit you in the backside on your way out.”

My in-laws were Mr. Jack and Miz Lib. I would never have called them by their first names. Aunts and uncles are always addressed as such. Even older cousins are referred to as Cud’n Emory or Cud’n Myrtis.

My grandfather served in the Navy for four years. As a matter of respect, he addressed most men as Cap’n. He usually addressed women as Lady. Southerners often give veterans the honorary rank of Colonel. Sometimes we call a person Judge just because they seem to have some authority. A grumpy old codger is referred to as, for example, Old Man Snodgrass.

Mama taught me to say Ma’am and Sir to any person older than I was. If I failed to afford that level of respect to my elders, mama would wash my mouth out with yellow Octagon soap. My dad taught me to say a blessing before meals, even in a restaurant or in a fishing boat.

Our Southern way of speaking takes a little longer. We don’t need to expect others to adopt our ways. We all just need to be ourselves.

Mama said, “Be what you is, and not what you ain’t, ‘cause if you is what you ain’t, you ain’t what you is.”

Kirk H. Neely is a freelance writer, storyteller, teacher, pastoral counselor, and retired pastor. He can be reached at kirkhneely44@gmail.com. Over these past months, I have asked that we contribute to our local charitable agencies. Thank you for all you have done. Please continue with your kindness and generosity. This week, please consider welcoming new folks to your neighborhood. Take them some homemade cookies, introduce them to the public library, invite them to your place of worship, show them the way to the YMCA, or giving them a subscription to the local newspaper. In doing so you will make new friends and improve our community. Thank you.

This article originally appeared on Herald-Journal: Kirk Neely: Speaking Southern is more than accent or dialect, drawl or pace