Cha'ston gentility

Yesterday was the moment the class had been waiting for all semester: our professor delivered her Piggly Wiggly project, which included the use of narrative voices for the reading of quotes. Prior to her 1.75 hour monologue, I overheard a group of women in my class discussing a commonly held notion which for years southern historians have been trying to dispell. And there those ladies were, sitting in a history class in the south. If you like Margaret Mitchell, please know that I may offend you, but hopefully this will be a good challenge.

At the plantation of my recent employment, the screen over the foyer window placed the public [waiting on the porch for a house tour] on display much like a two-way mirror, and many of us would gather there before opening the door, to gage the audience. You would see every kind of person standing out there. Each guide was required to wear a hoopskirt [from a bridal catalog] under a costume, which was a source of delight to many on the other side of that door. I chose to wear hiking boots and an unadorned outfit, just to mess with the tourists. To the German guests who murmurred "Scarlet" as they passed into the parlor, I replied, "She was English." The Old South is still represented by one film, captured there like a hiccup that never lets down. Everyone owns a sprawling piece of land, with an avenue of oaks leading up to a ridiculous mansion, and at least 100 slaves. In short, though so few of the estates are on public display today, this is translated into the houses on the Charleston peninsula. Surely these blue-blooded folk of old money are all gentile, get dressed for every occasion, refined people. The ladies [in my class] discussing the southern region president of Piggly Wiggly, Buzzie N., were shocked to learn that his Cha'ston home is festooned with pig statues and his luncheons are catered by the grocery store deli. Sweet tea, grab n' go chicken, green beans with pearl onions, and biscuits? Where are the caviar, the oysters, the bubbling champagne, and the decadent desserts?

Imagine, a wealthy southerner enjoying common amenities! I've seen this man at a restaurant: he's a regular guy. You needn't get all worked up. Having money, being rich, doesn't make the man.