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Conversation with my Father.

I call the house.
The phone rings.
My father picks up the phone.
Father: Heeeeello?
Me: Hey!
Father: That's the first stage of horseshit!
Me: Heh
Father: Your mother is giving me a dirty look, here she is.


I've only ever heard my father say that, and he has said it many many times. I've talked to Karl about this and I think I want to actual compile a list of "southernisms". I realize that northerners have strange little sayings to. But I doubt they have the same color. I don't know what I'd do with this list once I had it... but the topic interests me nonetheless.

Conversations like this with my father are my favorite. He gets to the be the clown just long enough for me to laugh and then he leaves, making it possible to keep that good feeling instead of the inevitable whatever-else that would follow it. He taught me all the lyrics to "Bottle of Wine" by Tom Paxton. He used to sing "Battle of New Orleans" around the house when I was home becuase he knew it would get stuck in my head and drive me crazy. He pronounces words strangely on purpose but for no real reason... a trait I think I've inherited. He's odd and off and he always has been and always will be and I've been learning how to deal with the parts of him that are dealable and how to ignore the parts of him that aren't. Sometimes, things that happen to you just become part of what you are. Blame gets harder and harder to assign as it becomes less important to know who's at fault. I don't care about all that. Becuase I don't need to anymore.

Fuck. I have that song stuck in my head.


Well, in eighteen and fourteen we took a little trip
along with Colonel Jackson down the mighty Mississip.
We took a little bacon and we took a little beans,
And we caught the bloody British near the town of New Orleans.

We fired our guns and the British kept a'comin.
There wasn't nigh as many as there was a while ago.
We fired once more and they began to runnin'
down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico.

Well, I see'd Mars Jackson walkin down the street
talkin’ to a pirate by the name of Jean Lafayette [pronounced La-feet]
He gave Jean a drink that he brung from Tennessee
and the pirate said he’d help us drive the British in the sea.

The French said Andrew, you’d better run,
for Packingham’s a comin’ with a bullet in his gun.
Old Hickory said he didn’t give a dang,
he’s gonna whip the britches off of Colonel Packingham.

We fired our guns and the British kept a'comin.
There wasn't nigh as many as there was a while ago.
We fired once more and they began to runnin'
down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico.

Well, we looked down the river and we see'd the British come,
and there must have been a hundred of 'em beatin' on the drum.
They stepped so high and they made their bugles ring
while we stood by our cotton bales and didn't say a thing.

Old Hickory said we could take 'em by surprise
if we didn't fire a musket til we looked 'em in the eyes.
We held our fire til we see'd their faces well,
then we opened up with squirrel guns and really gave a yell.

We fired our guns and the British kept a'comin.
There wasn't nigh as many as there was a while ago.
We fired once more and they began to runnin'
down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico.

Well, we fired our cannon til the barrel melted down,
so we grabbed an alligator and we fought another round.
We filled his head with cannon balls and powdered his behind,
and when they tetched the powder off, the gator lost his mind.

We’ll march back home but we’ll never be content
till we make Old Hickory the people’s President.
And every time we think about the bacon and the beans,
we’ll think about the fun we had way down in New Orleans.

We fired our guns and the British kept a'comin,
But there wasn't nigh as many as there was a while ago.
We fired once more and they began to runnin'
down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico.

Well, they ran through the briars and they ran through the brambles
And they ran through the bushes where a rabbit couldn't go.
They ran so fast the hounds couldn't catch 'em
down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico.

We fired our guns and the British kept a'comin.
But there wasn't nigh as many as there was a while ago.
We fired once more and they began to runnin'
down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico.

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