So many changes we have experienced since becoming southerners about 2 years ago. The ideals, the food, the lingo. It has been rather entertaining to say the least. How different two communities can be, yet separated by an mere 755 miles. Since we decided to throw in the Western NY towel and move to Knoxville, we came with a open mind and prepared to adopt some of the culture.
The process has been easy, mainly because I think we are southerners at heart. The people I have associated with have sensed that I came here to adopt a new way of life and not bring a northern flair to a place that doesn't need it. The whole process of this social permutation has been very comfortable and easy to undertake.... well almost.
Smokeless Tobacco.
Chew, snuff, dip or whatever you want to call it. It's everywhere! We had it back in WNY, but down here everyone does it or at least has tried it, even the girls! It wouldn't be so bad for me if the dipper could just swallow their own saliva like the rest of us do, but they seem to find some value in their brown and yellow slime and collect it in some makeshift spittoon like a Wishbones Styrofoam cup. Oh and might I remind you... the cup holder on the dash of your F-150 is not intended to support a 10lb brass spittoon or anything that resembles a spittoon.
It all started when I was riding with Parkey in the Facilities Department. We had been together for about a week when he asked me if I would mind if he put a chew in (I don't know why its called that because they don't actually chew anything.) Being the good guy I said sure go ahead. Little did I know that Parkey also had an affinity for his spit and proceeded to collect it for 3 days. I hunkered in the corner of the cab of that truck pressed up against the door with visions of that cup of slime splashing all over me in the event of a collision, or even worse I would mistakenly grab Parkey's cup thinking I was about to drink my sweet tea and suck down his mixture of coffee grounds and bile. Yuk! I'm gagging just writing about it. I asked him not to do it anymore... He said OK. Just some more of that southern kindness.
Everyday I go to the Academy and we go through our daily activites of classroom sessions and practical exercises. We find ourselves taking a break every hour or so. Outside we go to commiserate about the material discussed. As the smokless tobacco users get there little tins out and slap the lid with that curious jerk of the wrist, its not seconds until the spitting commences. Within minutes the blobs of slick are surrounding me. One day I dropped a new Ticonderoga pencil from my ear and it rolled into a blob stopping it dead in its tracks. The Ticon pencil is the best in the world and I love them but... its still there, stuck now that the spit has dried.
OK so I got issues, I know that, but when a grown man wraps course cut Red Man in sour apple bubble gum in a wad the size of a golf ball and sticks it between his cheek and gum. That's just... blah!
The process has been easy, mainly because I think we are southerners at heart. The people I have associated with have sensed that I came here to adopt a new way of life and not bring a northern flair to a place that doesn't need it. The whole process of this social permutation has been very comfortable and easy to undertake.... well almost.
Smokeless Tobacco.
Chew, snuff, dip or whatever you want to call it. It's everywhere! We had it back in WNY, but down here everyone does it or at least has tried it, even the girls! It wouldn't be so bad for me if the dipper could just swallow their own saliva like the rest of us do, but they seem to find some value in their brown and yellow slime and collect it in some makeshift spittoon like a Wishbones Styrofoam cup. Oh and might I remind you... the cup holder on the dash of your F-150 is not intended to support a 10lb brass spittoon or anything that resembles a spittoon.
It all started when I was riding with Parkey in the Facilities Department. We had been together for about a week when he asked me if I would mind if he put a chew in (I don't know why its called that because they don't actually chew anything.) Being the good guy I said sure go ahead. Little did I know that Parkey also had an affinity for his spit and proceeded to collect it for 3 days. I hunkered in the corner of the cab of that truck pressed up against the door with visions of that cup of slime splashing all over me in the event of a collision, or even worse I would mistakenly grab Parkey's cup thinking I was about to drink my sweet tea and suck down his mixture of coffee grounds and bile. Yuk! I'm gagging just writing about it. I asked him not to do it anymore... He said OK. Just some more of that southern kindness.
Everyday I go to the Academy and we go through our daily activites of classroom sessions and practical exercises. We find ourselves taking a break every hour or so. Outside we go to commiserate about the material discussed. As the smokless tobacco users get there little tins out and slap the lid with that curious jerk of the wrist, its not seconds until the spitting commences. Within minutes the blobs of slick are surrounding me. One day I dropped a new Ticonderoga pencil from my ear and it rolled into a blob stopping it dead in its tracks. The Ticon pencil is the best in the world and I love them but... its still there, stuck now that the spit has dried.
OK so I got issues, I know that, but when a grown man wraps course cut Red Man in sour apple bubble gum in a wad the size of a golf ball and sticks it between his cheek and gum. That's just... blah!
