|
|
Hi. I'm Ed, and I'm
from Georgia. Well...
at least that's where I
grew up. The north-
ern suburbs of Atlana
are different. First off,
there's no second T
in Atlana. They don't
|
|
pronounce the sec-
ond T in Atlana.
That's about the only
bit of a southern
accent I still have,
the only bit I ever
had perhaps. But see
the northern suburbs
|
|
were mystifying, dif-
ferent, like I said. We
were all transplants,
and affluent ones at
that. Chicago here.
San Fran there. NYC
in my own backyard.
And we all gathered
|
|
in the "nice" 'burbs.
Sure it wasn't Buck-
head, but Dunwoody
served just fine to
shelter mommy and
daddy's precious dar-
lings from the harsh
drawl of the Real
|
|
South. My first south-
ern friend--southern
accented friend I'll
put it--I met in the
seventh grade, the
year I got out of that
place. He too was
mystifying, Drew I
|
|
want to say his name
was. A rarity like no
other. We would joke
him and poke him
and laugh at the way
he talked, but it
wasn't all that dif-
ferent from the way
|
|
we talked, you know?
He just never was shy
about it. He just
never watched his
ain'ts or his y'alls or
his hardy southern
laugh. God, that lit-
tle fat southern boy
|
|
really knew how to
laugh. Knew how to
split a shin open
pretty good too. At
least I learned one of
his secrets before
I left...
|
|
|
|
|