Where I'm from......

[Gemme]

Originally Posted by theoddz

LOL.....Gemme, where I come from, we call sweet corn bread (like that icky Jiffy mix) "Yankee Corn Bread". That stuff is more like cake!!!

Corn bread is cooked in a cast iron skillet, has a crunchy bottom and is really really tasty when "cracklin'" (little bits of crispy bacon) is added. Some people like to add jalepenos, but I'm not too fond of spicy things, myself....except women.

Cheers to you, Southern Lady!!!

~Theo~ .....proud to be Southern.

That's the stuff! Cornmeal has to be shipped up here to make the stuff properly. I prefer my cornbread with some crunch all the way round the sides too and a cast iron skillet makes it just perfectly. I like cornbread with stuff in it, but nothing beats it with a smear of soft butter on it and nothing else. Throw in some atomic sweet tea and I'm good to go!

I miss home.

[weatherboi]

Where I am from you can smell the coffee being roasted at the maxwell house plant every morning driving through downtown.

[theoddz]

Originally Posted by weatherboi

Where I am from you can smell the coffee being roasted at the maxwell house plant every morning driving through downtown.

Heh....lemme guess...

Jacksonville, FL??

I lived there for 8 years.

The Maxwell House facility was right off the Mathews Bridge, downtown.

I remember how good that place made the downtown smell.

Theo...on the phone connection.

[ZoeyJayne]

"LOL.....Gemme, where I come from, we call sweet corn bread (like that icky Jiffy mix) "Yankee Corn Bread". That stuff is more like cake!!! "

Ok first off before I state anything, whats wrong with Jiffy Corn Bread that stuff is the best and doesnt choke you when you try to eat it like the stuff that comes out of a cast iron pan lol


Anywho I wanna join in this one.

Where I come from there is a ton of old mills that used to be shoe factories but now they are luxurious loft apartments.
We have a famous sandwich named after the mills called a Bootmill... You have not lived unless you have eaten one of these.
Also we have 5 bridges that you need to cross in order to get to the other side of the city.

We dont say yall or yansta, we say wicked instead.
And everyone is an asshole aka " Masshole"

[NotAnAverageGuy]

The Oklahoma City Stockyards have sold over one hundred million cattle since opening

In World War I the great demand for farm products brought an agricultural boom to the state, but in the 1920s the state fell upon hard times. Recurrent drought burned the wheat in the fields, and overplanting, overgrazing, and unscientific cropping aided the weather in making Oklahoma part of the Dust Bowl of the 1930s. Farm tenancy increased in the 1920s, and in both the east and west the farms tended more and more to be held by large interests and to be consolidated in large blocks.

A great number of tenant farmers were compelled to leave their dust-stricken farms and went west as migrant laborers; the tragic plight of these “Okies” is the theme of John Steinbeck's novel The Grapes of Wrath. With the return of rains, however, and with increasing care in selecting crops and in conserving and utilizing water and soil resources, much of the Dust Bowl again became productive farm land. The demand for food in World War II and federal price supports for agricultural products after the war further aided farm prosperity

[Andrew, Jr.]

*We eat seafood year round
*We have very few gay bars in the city
*We are known as being a little America (mountains, oceans, bays, etc.)
*We are multi-cultural

[Gemme]

Sports Illustrated came to my hometown for their swimsuit issue once. One of the models even straddled a cannon for a pic, if I remember right.

Just sayin'...

[jenny]

Where I'm from, a trip to the beach is called "going down the shore." Jughandles are the only way to turn left on most highways, and you know that the turn for said jughandle could come before OR after the intersection where you want to go left.

People think our state is industrial, overcrowded, and ugly, but nearly everyone I know who has visited here has been shocked by how beautiful it is. Where I'm from, you can find beaches, mountains and farmland, all within a drive of an hour or two. You can also get into two major cities within a couple of hours at most.

There are 24 hour diners everywhere, and they all look pretty much the same, and you can get the most fabulous bagels here as well. Where I'm from, you know what a "benny" is, and people will make fun of the way you say "water."

I love it here. Just sayin'.

[NJFemmie]

Originally Posted by jenny

Where I'm from, a trip to the beach is called "going down the shore." Jughandles are the only way to turn left on most highways, and you know that the turn for said jughandle could come before OR after the intersection where you want to go left.

People think our state is industrial, overcrowded, and ugly, but nearly everyone I know who has visited here has been shocked by how beautiful it is. Where I'm from, you can find beaches, mountains and farmland, all within a drive of an hour or two. You can also get into two major cities within a couple of hours at most.

There are 24 hour diners everywhere, and they all look pretty much the same, and you can get the most fabulous bagels here as well. Where I'm from, you know what a "benny" is, and people will make fun of the way you say "water."

I love it here. Just sayin'.

All you had to say was "jughandle" and "down the shore" I knew you were from Jersey. Takes one to know one.

[MysticOceansFL]

Plenty of SunShine here you take a guess? And the city is the Capital.

[Kätzchen]

The skies at night are so dark that you can see stars for miles and miles. During the summer, it's very hot and late at night you can hear all the crickets and grasshoppers buzzing in the fields. The mountains are very high, and Ponderosa is fragrant. Mint fields and fields of corn and wheat, go on and on for miles. The nearest tiny town I grew up near, has only one gas station, one post office, a couple of mom and pop stores, and a teeny tiny cemetery. And about four different churches..... three schools .....and one pool hall.

The best part of where I grew up was that we had very few neighbor's, but our neighbor's were all good people. Really good folks.

[christie]

Or rather, where Jess is from… funerals are the social event lil ole ladies have been preparing for since birth. Based on my limited experience with funerals in this area of the world, I have decided that its like a pageant and a point system is involved.

Last fall, when Jess’s stepdad died, we were here. At 2:30 AM, the director of the local funeral home is standing in the den and for some reason, singles me out. Here I am, in my jimmies, trying to fade into the background as all Howard’s siblings are coming in droves. The nice fella in a suit (who the hell wears a suit at 2 in the morning), says to me, “So we have some folding chairs and a coffee urn we can bring by and I need to know what time we can come with the wreath and the signs.” In my head, I am thinking, “Signs?!?!? What is he talking about?” Not wanting to appear stupid, my reply was something about we would figure that out and let him know when we came by the funeral home later.”

He was no sooner out the door than I had Jess cornered asking about the signs. I thought it rather soon for an estate sale. LOL Jess had no more a clue than I did.

I called my mother – she is from a small town. She said, “Signs?!?!? Are they having a yard sale?” LOL

I called my office and took a poll. Not one person had a clue about the signs.

Turns out that lil sammich board signs with the words, “Slow. Funeral in progress” are placed in front of your house, about 100 ft before and after, as well as a white ribboned wreath is placed on the house so as to notify all the locals that the point system has begun.

Not one moment past 5:30 am and the lil ole bluehairs are lined up outside the front door, cream of somethin’ casseroles in hand, plowing one another down in the race to get to the kitchen first to sign the register and lament about the character of Jess’s stepdad. Anyone who knows me knows that I am not human until after a pot of coffee has been consumed and its at least 10am. My neck is hurting from all the nodding and my face feels numb from all the smiling.

As the parade of lil ole ladies and their casseroles appear, the rivers of coffee flow as my mother in law, who has spent the last month caring for my fatherinlaw 24 hours a day and looks like she is next in line for funeral services, sat in a chair and was doted over, her care and commitment to her husband is validated and the whole scene is very reminiscent to a queen sitting on her throne, receiving adoration from the minions.

Thank god Momma was planted in the chair because I am not sure she could have even stood up – and the ironic part to me is that the procession, in all of their goodness and efforts, just didn’t take the hint that she needed to rest… she didn’t need another piece of cake, another cup of coffee.

Everyone tells us just what a saint Momma is and just how very tired she looks. I bite my lips nearly off in the attempts to not ask them why the fuck they don’t go home so she can just rest.

For three days, the pageant continued, the droves of people far and wide ensuring that their names have been recorded as well as their food contributions so that the correct number of points are allocated. Momma continued to reign, refusing to sleep, reveling in the attention and validation that her sacrifices have surely assured her a place in martyrdom.

When the signs and wreath are taken down, and the people stop the procession, its rather anticlimactic and she seemed a little let down. I kept waiting and waiting for an announcement in the local paper as to the rankings of the locals and the points to date.

I still wonder where the points are recorded.

While I do make a joke out of the entire event, I was rather impressed and humbled with the whole affair – that when we leave this world, our existence will be celebrated, our efforts acknowledged and that its not all been for naught – at least where we come from.

[Duchess]

Where I'm from......

You can buy your flip flops at your local gas station
Nobody's in a hurry to get anywhere.
Wearing your swimsuit under your work clothes is a must for the after work dip in the ocean.
The Historical Society rules the town.
Many of the residents save money by living in houseboats.


Duchess