Master Of The Rodeo

     When my son was about five years old we lived far out in the country. It was one of those places were a southerner might say they had to “pipe in” sunshine!  It wasn't my favorite location as I am a "city girl" (a southern city girl!), but it was just this side of heaven for a pre-schooler.  I remember waking up one morning to find a cow standing next to my car!  Oh my goodness, that was a sight to see for this southern belle!!!  I had never been that close to a cow in my life!  That's a story for another day though.  Anyway, we had acres of land, trees for climbing, woods for exploring, a huge deep ditch to ride a bike in and then there was Boomer.  Boomer was my son's golden lab. I watched the two of them day in and day out perform the strangest ritual.  My little man would hop on Boomer's back and ride him like a horse.  Boomer knew better though and was determined to let Josh know that he was NOT a horse!  Every time Josh would hop up on Boomer’s back, Boomer would walk just enough to tease him, and then would stand up on his hind legs and buck Josh off, throwing him gently to the ground. Boomer thought he was teaching Josh a lesson, but my smart baby boy was teaching him.  He was teaching a dog how to behave like a bucking horse!  Sometimes life is just that way. We hop on ready to go full steam ahead but “life” wants to show us who’s in charge and that it isn’t what we thought it was.  We get thrown to the ground time and time again.  But a determined man or woman will brush themselves off, hop right back on and keep riding!  Especially a southern hand full like myself.  I may struggle sometimes but you'll never see me quit!  Stubbornness is a family trait that I come by honestly.  When you refuse to quit, when you hop back on after being thrown off again and again, before long something changes. Life isn’t controlling you, you are controlling it!  It is doing tricks for you that it doesn’t even realize. So my advice today is this.  If you get thrown to the ground today or tomorrow - next week, month or year, hop back on.  You are master of this rodeo.  Hold on and keep riding!

Diaper Daze

      There are three things most sacred in southern society - faith, family and football... sometimes not necessarily in that order!  If you happen to have grown up in the South, you understand the importance of religion in southern culture.  The South isn't called the "Bible Belt" for nothing.  Most southerners "cut their teeth" on church pews!  Between Sunday services, church socials, mid-week Bible studies and revival meetings, most southern children spent half their childhood on old wooden church pews.  I know I did.  Our church services weren't limited to an hour or two like most modern schedules - not at all!  We "tarried until"  many a night.  For what, I wasn't always certain, but I soon learned to  fall asleep on cedar planks or pine boards  just as easily as my big old comfy poster bed at home.  Think of sleeping on a two by four - you'll get the idea.  There isn't much I haven't seen in church.  People rarely let inconveniences stop them from participating in church activities, so you never knew what might be "brought" into the church house or what you might see, hear or experience.  Sometimes, people came to church just so folks wouldn't talk about them.  News of heathen ways spread faster than an epidemic, so church attendance was a sure fire way not to be the talk of the town.  Of course that "talk" was always prefaced with "we need to pray for them - bless their hearts."  I never could understand how gossip coupled with prayer seemed to make it okay somehow.  Well nonetheless, church folks weren't just acquaintances in the community, they were family and you know how that goes. "I can talk about my family, but you'd better not even think about talking about them" as they say. 

        I came from a long line of church going family.  My grandfather was a minister, two of my uncles were ministers, a cousin... and I won't even mention my ex's!  That topic is something that a southern lady keeps to herself - well and between her close girlfriends.  As for the family ministers.  My oh my, the stories they've shared over the years.  Once, my uncle was scheduled to speak at a visiting church.  He wasn't feeling well at all, but couldn't cancel the preaching engagement.  You see, we could never use the excuse that we were sick.  After all, the Bible talked about healing and even how folks were raised from the dead, so, no sir, there weren't any excuses!  Just before the service that night, my uncle's sickness got the best of him in the worst possible way.  He felt the urge to find a bathroom and fast!  Unfortunately, his stomach was faster than his legs and he ended up in quite a "mess" literally.  He stripped down, removed his soiled underpants, disposed of them and freshened himself up the best he could.  A men's restroom in an old country church was a far cry from a gentleman's lounge at the country club.  There were no little bottles of sweet smelling soap or lotion, no warm cloths or towels.  Uncle dressed himself, regained his composure, tried to settle his nervous stomach the best he could, and found his way to the sanctuary, where he sat on the front pew waiting for his time at the podium.  Soon, the service began and the choir began to sing.  Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a lady at the other end of the front pew where he sat.  She was holding a small baby.  She began a strange ritual of "sniffing."  Only a mother knows about such a ritual.  She would sniff, pull back the baby's diaper for a quick peek and then rub the baby on the stomach.  This went on for several minutes in intervals. What this poor young mother did not realize was that the "diaper daze" she was experiencing with her baby wasn't her baby at all.  It was my smelly old uncle!  Soon enough, he was summoned to the pulpit for the evening sermon.  I imagine it was his shortest sermon ever, but to add insult to injury, he was one not to stay behind the pulpit.  He was a "walker."  He would walk along the front of the sanctuary as he preached.  Each time he passed by the lady on the front pew, she would start her "sniffing" ritual all over again.  Poor baby.  Hopefully, the little darling wasn't given caster oil when they got home!

       Now I am not sure if I would've been nearly as devoted as my uncle that night.  I am quite certain that there is much to be said about ridding oneself of smelly situations and rising to the occasion no matter what, but as for me, I've spent more than enough time on church pews to know that it's better to deal with smelly situations before they become a mess.  Airing "dirty laundry" in public is a "no no" in the southern book of etiquette!  Folks won't have a reason to "sniff" if we don't give them one! 

Editor's note:  On a serious note, I am most grateful for my heritage of faith and the devotion to God, family and community that my family has displayed and instilled in me over the years.  It is the very reason I do what I do!  Thank each of you for your shining example.

God Bless And Roll Tide!

Editor's Note:  This post was originally shared with 47,000 contestants during a Transformation Contest sponsored by the "Early To Rise" organization in 2013.  To my amazement, people all over the world began to "speak" a southern dialect!  Perhaps their accents varied just a bit from my slow "southern drawl," but the message was universal - "Roll Tide!" became our daily greeting and often our rally cry throughout the contest.  My family had grown from loved ones down South to brothers and sisters all over the globe!  Gotta love it y'all!!!

  Yesterday was a perfect spring day here in the South.  The sun cascaded through the dogwood tree in my front yard causing each bloom to glisten like snowflakes.  The wind was gently blowing through my back porch and everything seemed to be coming to life again.  But... when I woke up today, spring had disappeared!  Such is life in the South.  We can experience all four seasons in the span of twenty-four hours.  Yesterday I was sporting my "Daisy Dukes" around the house and today bundled up in my winter casual like it was football season or something.  Speaking of football, I truly wish college football was a year round sport.  Those of you who have read my previous posts will remember what a football fan I am.  I think I would be tarred and feathered if I wasn’t.  Just because I am a sassy southern belle does not mean I can’t enjoy a good game of football.  Every southern lady knows how to cheer for her team with femininity, style and class.  You have watched “The Blind Side” haven’t you?  I had a fella tell me recently that he thought there was something quite attractive about a woman in a ball cap.  (Well actually he said “sexy” but my southern decorum won’t allow me to say that out loud.)  He said it just did something for him.  Go figure.  All the time and money we spend on our long, big and beautiful hair to look fabulous only to find out that a ball cap was the way to attract a man!  Well no matter… women down South dress fit to kill, style our hair, and manicure our nails for other women anyway, not the men! No southern woman would be caught dead in the beauty salon without freshly washed and styled hair with every strand perfectly in place.  And God forbid that we get a manicure on unpolished nails!   Goodness I digressed a bit didn’t I?  About football… we do love cheering for our college teams. You see, I am from Alabama and unless you’ve been living under a rock, you know how much we Alabamians love college football!  

    No matter which team you pick in Alabama you really can’t go wrong.  When you do choose however, be ready to draw that proverbial line in the sand because our two opposing teams feud with each other like the Hatfields and the McCoys.  As for me, I come from a long line of Crimson Tide fans. There is no doubt that Bear Bryant and Nick Saban surely have a special place reserved in all eternity right along side Peter and John.  One of my friends Billie reminds me of how sacred our football allegiance is.  Should you call her and reach her answering machine this is what you will hear at the end of her message… “God bless and Roooll Tide!”  Roll Tide – do you know what that means?  Well for us southerners it is as universal as “amen” or such the like.  As a matter of fact, “Roll Tide” is learned before “Mama or Daddy” ever crosses a baby’s lips.  Yes, it is an all encompassing phrase. It can mean “hello,” “how are you?” “what’s up?” “good job,” “better luck next time,” “bye-bye,” “I’m sorry,” “you are mighty fine little lady,” “excuse me,” “thank you,” “have a great day,” and even “I love you!” 

   Last week I had a “Roll Tide” moment without a doubt. I drove my son's car to work as mine was a little low on oil and needed an oil change.  I have to be at work at 6:00 a.m. so when I leave it is still very dark!  I tend to have just a bit of Richard Petty in me in the mornings.  About two thirds of my way there, I came to a stop light.  My headlights were beaming, and what did I see?  Steam twirling in the light beams!  Steam coming from my engine!  (Well my son's engine since it was his car I drove to save my engine until the oil was changed.)  I looked at the temperature gauge and it was "redlining" with a capital H!  I managed to get to work. Some of the guys were heading into the shop.  "Hun what in the world is goin' on this morning?"  These guys are tractor drivers, mechanics and southern "alpha males" and they are asking me what is wrong with my car?  "You are the guys and I am a girl that knows nothing about cars so you tell me."  So they proceeded to say the radiator was probably hot.  It didn’t take a college degree to figure that one out with all the steam bellowing out the top!  Later, my boss came out and checked the car and sure enough it was the radiator.  He filled it up with water and showed me where there was a small leak as the steam bubbled out.  I managed to make it home without the car running hot again.  But, I had to get MY car to the shop to have the oil changed.  Now mind you, it was 4:15 p.m. and I had to be at my parent's house for dinner at 6:30 p.m. There were five cars in front of me!  I handed over the keys and called my son to have him pick me up in our other wounded car.  I sat and waited in the front lobby.  What I didn't tell you is that I was at the WalMart Superstore Tire and Oil Center. WalMart is quite the place in the South. You never know what you might see!  This day the most interesting scene was probably me.  I had committed the unpardonable sin of southern women.  I went to the store in jeans, my Roll Tide t-shirt, jacket and a ball cap!  Thank the good Lord I didn’t see a soul I knew.  You see, I had slept just a bit late that morning and was in a bit of a tizzy getting out the door for work.  It is shameful to admit, but I just didn't have time to get all "beautiful" before leaving for work.  I really had broken the first cardinal rule of the southern women’s handbook.  Well anyway, there I was, sitting on a bench in the front lobby of WalMart waiting for my son to pick me up.  My car was stuck in the mechanic's bay, my son’s car was running on a "wing and a prayer" and we had to be at dinner in two hours!  Needless to say, I was frazzled and my head was splitting.  Have you ever had one of those days? The universe must’ve felt my pain because a man walked in and as he passed by the bench he spoke two soothing familiar words to me… “ROLL TIDE!”   That moment, it meant, “cheer up little lady, it’s gonna be okay and by the way, you look FINE!” All was right with the world again.  Later I picked up my car, headed to dinner and enjoyed much needed laughter with my family.  Sometimes it only takes a moment - a smile, a few words, a hug or a handshake that can make or break a person’s day.  So if you are having one of “those days” like I had last week, smile!  It’s going to be okay… God bless and ROLL TIDE! Love y'all…