Conspiracy of Librals

Yes. It all became clear when I read a thought-filled, idea-provoked, brain-sated letter to the editor of the Tuscaloosa News, Monday, January 31, from copious writer Freddie Barrett.

He observed that librals (the Southern pronunciation of “liberals”) have conspired to spread speed bumps all over town on otherwise smooth roads in our city. His prescience illuminated the whole idea of conspiracy theories.

Yes. As he noted, “I cannot help but think that there must be some do-good liberal [sic] behind these monstrosities to safe driving. Only one of them [speed bumps] can bring stupidity to a perfectly smooth road.”

Suddenly I realized a sorrow-mired possibility: It’s those same librals – conspiratators -- who have snuck in during a dark and stormy night to trash the back seat of my car.

It looks like it’s been rummaged by a band of possums or raccoons or ruffians. There’s melted Star Bursts, M&Ms, and lollipops, thousand of Nerds of all colors, Joanna Leigh’s school projects (including a paper doll George Washington, the Founder of our Country), Clorox wipes, extra clothes and panties, wrappers for all kinds of sugar-laden candy; it’s simply a grotesque heap back there. Plus, those same librals must’ve poured syrup or juice or something all over Joanna Leigh’s car seat.

 

As Barnett asks, “When is enough enough?”

 

“Let my backseat alone, librals!” I shout to the Heavens.

Wait.

Oh, no. As I typed that last sentence, it hit me. Barnett could very well be talking about Libras, those scales-of-justice-holding, trashy conspiratators born between September 23 and October 22. Not my dispatriotic compatriot librals.

Boy, is that a relief.

 

Technorati Tags: Liberals,letter to the editor,Tuscaloosa News,Libras,Southern pronunciation

The Birdiest

It’s a word! It’s a word actually being used, and I’m not kidding. Words being used are best, even if they aren’t in a dictionary. Birdiest is SO being used that being named one of the birdiest places is governed by rules.

Undaunted by even the BP oil disaster, millions and millions of birds are making their annual migration over the Gulf of Mexico, and lots and lots of them are flying over the Alabama Gulf Coast. Right now, the birds are flying south for the winter. And right now is one of the best times to go birding in Mobile and Fairhope, Alabama. To add lots of value to your birding experience, sign up for the 7^th Annual John L. Borom Alabama Coastal BirdFest, Oct. 14 – 17.

Photos: Lisa Comer. Above: Black-bellied Whistling Ducks, taken at the BirdFest
Below: Great White, Snowy, and Cattle Egrets, taken at the BirdFest

 

Places in this area, specifically the Dauphin Island Bird Sanctuaries and Sea Lab, have been named one of the birdiest in America. You’ll see all kinds of shapes, colors, and species; you’ll hear warbles, songs, and experts talking about the sights and sounds. And you can walk, walk, walk.

According to John Borom, currently director of Faulkner State Community College and president of the Mobile Bay Audubon Society, birding is not only a special pleasure, it is “big business in Alabama.”

“It is eco-tourism, and the emphasis is on conservation of habitat,” he said. “Proceeds from the BirdFest go toward support of the Dauphin Island Bird Sanctuaries. Over the years we have been able to donate $65,000.”

 

The opening night reception will feature BirdFest and other photos by Lisa Comer. Above, American Avocet.

Faulkner State will host a free event that promises to delight the whole family: the Bird and Conservation Expo is scheduled for Oct. 16, 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. at Faulkner State and the Fairhope public library.

Becky Collier and raptor friend will be at the Expo again this year.

 

Borom also suggests the 240-mile long Alabama Coastal Trail. “It is a hot birding area,” says Borom.

 

Birders on the trail

 

 

 

He also notes that the BP disaster has raised awareness about the critical importance of conserving habitat, as the marshes and breeding grounds for all kinds of bird and sea life have been adversely affected by the catastrophe. “We don’t yet know how it has affected the food chain. We’re going to be watching closely. Only time will tell,” he said.

He emphasizes that the migratory birds are unaffected, and this year’s BirdFest promises to be as good as ever.

For updated information on the oil spill and how it affects travel in the Mobile Bay area, visit these websites: http://www.mobilebaytravelupdates.com, www.eschamber.com, or www.gulfshores.com. For more information about the BirdFest, call Fran Morley at 251-928-0987.

Lisa Comer: Above: Blue Herron. Below: airborne raptors.

For one of 2010's birdiest experiences, put the Alabama Coastal BirdFest on your to-do list.

 

Technorati Tags: Alabama Coastal BirdFest,birdiest,Alabama Coastal Birding Trail,Dauphin Island Bird Sanctuaries and Sea Lab,eco-tourism,birding,migratory birds,Gulf of Mexico,Spittin' Grits,John L. Borom,Faulkner State Community College

UA Press Treasure, Part I: An Astonishing Ride on Alabama Rivers

Spittin’ Grits’ last post, October 14, promised to feature several treasures published by The University of Alabama Press. Like other Southern university presses, the UA Press is a treasure trove of books for everyone, not just scholarly and research books, but also books of general interest, gorgeous art books, nature field guides, books on the particular presses’ states and regions, great cookbooks, books on off-beat topics, books on overlooked subjects, and books the major publishing houses wouldn’t touch for fear that they wouldn’t contribute to profits.

Headwaters: A Journey on Alabama Rivers is the first of the series of treasures; it combines the features of an art book, a nature guide, and a portrait of Alabama’s natural beauty. Headwaters takes the reader on a breathtaking trip down the abundance of rivers, called metaphorically Alabama's Great River, from the northern part of the state to the fall line, through the coastal plain to the Gulf of Mexico. Truthfully, it is an astonishing ride.

Conservation photographer Beth Maynor Young teamed with John Hall, longtime UA professor, former curator of UA’s Museum of Natural History, and currently curator of the Black Belt Museum at the University of West Alabama, Livingston, to raise awareness of the rivers’ beauty, the wildlife they serve, and the need to continue conservation efforts in Alabama. The Dedication says it all:

“For all of the people: advocates, scientists, teachers, paddlers, fishermen, and agencies; who are working to secure a future for these waters, that our children and grandchildren and great grandchildren may enjoy and be inspired by the mystery of rivers.”

The Beginnings

Alabama’s “Great River” begins in the state’s northern uplands, particularly in Jackson County – as drops, trickles, seepages, creeks, falls, streams, which transform into the big rivers that all make their way to the Gulf.

“At Cheaha, walk the Chinnabee Silent Trail from Turnipseed to the top of the [Cheaha] mountain. Follow the little stream up on the flank of the mountain to where the little trickles run down and it smells like damp earth and mint and Galax.”

Or start at Lethe Brook in north central Alabama’s Winston County: “Surely the Great River of Alabama must begin in a place like this. Humidity fills the air, and groundwater oozes onto the roots of ferns and mosses. Slowly the trickles gather and begin to flow downhill, five hundred miles, home to the Gulf of Mexico.”

The Falls

Where the waters of the uplands fall from the geologically older granite rocks onto the younger, softer rocks into the coastal plain is the Fall Line. Below that, rivers become slower, lower, more meandering. In Alabama the fall line runs from the Shoals, with Florence being the fall line town, down to just below Tuscaloosa, over to Tallassee at the falls of the Tallapoosa River, into Georgia; after that the waters begin to fall into the Atlantic Ocean, through the Appalachians, and all the way to New Jersey.

The fall line physically demarcates features that can or cannot occur on either the up- or down-side of the line. For example, our Cahaba Lilies (shoals lily) can only survive on the upside of the fall line. The water’s flow must be strong enough to sweep away fine sediments that can smother the lilies’ roots.

The Exit

The waters of the Great River seep, drain, and spill into the Gulf by way of two major rivers – the Tombigbee, which gathers the western waters, and the Alabama, which gathers the eastern waters; these two rivers merge north of Mobile Bay to form the Tensaw Swamp. Finally fresh water merges with salt water in salt marshes. The journey is then completed.

Headwaters boasts more than 150 full color plates of Young’s inspiring photos, each with descriptive and informative text comprising the captions.

Once readers complete this journey, they have the knowledge and inspiration to ensure the future of Alabama’s Great River. And it’s a trip they can take over and over again.

For a slideshow of a sample of the photographs at Young’s Web site, go to: http://www.kingfishereditions.com/headwaters/phpslideshow.php?directory=.&currentPic=14

To order go to http://www.uapress.ua.edu/.

Options include ordering on line, calling the toll-free number, or faxing an order. Photos reprinted by permission of the UA Press.

By phone: 800-621-2736 or 773-702-7000

To fax: 800-621-8476 or 773-702-7212

 

Technorati Tags: The University of Alabama Press,Headwaters: A Journey on Alabama Rivers,Beth Maynor Young,John Hall,Cahaba Lily,Tombigbee River,Alabama River

No Spitting on the Premises

 

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Nice people simply do not spit. Common people spit.

“Nice People” is outdated Southernspeak for people from “nice families”; “nice families” is outdated Southernspeak for those whose background passes muster, whose genealogy goes back a long way, which is far more important than money unless your money goes back a long way.

Common people are those who have no upbringing. When they say “nice, white, rice,” the “nice” rhymes with “ass,” the “white” rhymes with “brat,” and the “rice” rhymes with . . ., well, I’m not really sure. It’s country-fied.

“Tacky” is Southernspeak for, among other criticisms, nouveau riche people who have no taste. Their “people,” who were probably Yankees, might go back one generation at the most. These ancestors probably did spit.

But smart Southern women of a certain age, even those from nice families, have likely resorted to “spittin’ grits” at some point in the past. I have.

In 1965 after college, I was driving in La Jolla, California, on some jaunt or other. Even though I had grown up as an Air Force officer’s brat and lived all over, I still had my Southern accent and I had never been to California. I was driving the wrong way on a four-lane one-way street at night. How tacky.

Not very far into this stupid maneuver, I saw the flashing lights of a police car that had made a U-turn and was behind me. I have no memory of where I pulled over. It must have been into a service station lot, one where your gas was pumped for you, your oil was check for you, and for dessert your windshield was cleaned for you.

I remember thinking, “You’d better start spittin’ grits ASAP.” The cop leaned down.

I said, “Good evenin’ suh. Ah know what Ah’ve done hea-uh (here), but Ah’ve nev-uh been to Califon-yuh.”

You add to that verbal sprawl your fluttering eyelashes and a big smile. You morph into a combination of Scarlet O’Hara and a Valley Girl. I didn’t get a ticket.

Spirit and Image of Grits

But I damned well wouldn’t resort to such trickery now. First, it’s against my principles. (Yeh, right, lady.)

Second, the idea of a 65-year-old Southern woman (who is myself) spittin’, grits is grotesque. Plus I’m a grandmother from a nice family.

Third, the Southern accent, like so much else distinctively Southern, has become watered down by all the moving around people do these days -- except for grits, which you indeed water down and which is the subject of another post.

“Spittin’ grits might not have to be such a crass, unladylike phrase after all. In my 1987 edition of The Facts on File Encyclopedia of Word and Phrase Origins says that “spittin’ image” could be a corruption of “spirit and image.” This means, of course, that “spittin’ grits” is in the spirit and image of Southern niceties. (http://www.accessmylibrary.com/coms2/summary_0286-37073764_ITM).

There. That’s solved.

Except For This Part

Fourth, my father used the phrase, not as a Southern nicety but very specifically. When I was 14 and 15, in junior high school at Bellingrath in Montgomery, Alabama, in the mid-1950s, we went to Sock Hops. I am not making this up.

My father, an Air Force officer and pilot of jets, was an imposing Southern gentleman, stationed at Maxwell A.F.B. and an Alabama native. We were not allowed to ride unchaperoned in cars with boys, not even to Sock Hops. That policy put quite a damper on “dating,” which was probably the real intention of the policy. Anyway, I had been asked to this Sock Hop by this boy I was nuts over.

Dad said to me, “Young lady, you are not going out with that boy unless his parents are driving, and that’s THAT. I am not spittin’ grits!”

I knew the dreamboat’s parents weren’t going to be driving. He and his friends were 16 and already at Lanier High School. I promised dad the parents would be driving. I sneaked, snunck, or whatever the verb tense is.

We had not been at the Hop more than 30 minutes when my 6-foot 3-inch dad marched in, got me by the arm, and marched me out.

He was not one for Spittin’ Grits.

NOTE: There will be no post tomorrow. I will be at a reunion.