The South

With all the SEC chatter the last few months, there has been much discussion about whether Missouri fits in the South. Feelings appear to be mixed in Missouri, but when I had this conversation in Tennessee, the answer was a resounding no.

When I stepped off the plane in Nashville, a recording of Phil Vassar welcoming people to Nashville was playing over the loudspeakers. That followed by a party of my parents' friends and the wedding party, where the accents were much stronger than I remember, had already convinced me. Missouri is not the South.

As the weekend went on, I continued to be reminded that I was in the South:

The rehearsal dinner was in a barn (a nice one designed for these events but still a barn), and barbecue was served.

There was not a toast where someone didn't say y'all at least three times.

Krystals were served at the end of the wedding.

Our favorite family member on one side of the family is not actually related to us, but is invited to the family weddings and shows up. (I was very glad to see her!)

The specialty at a breakfast place is the ingredients of a veggie omelet in a bowl of grits.

The wedding planner brings Chick-fil-a for the bridesmaids to eat for lunch.

And I'm not sure if this is really a Southern thing, but it cracked me up nonetheless. They passed out pilgrim hats and Indian headbands:

I talked to my best friend as she was driving and I was sitting in an airport, and she told me that my accent has leveled out just right. I don't sound like a Midwesterner to her, but people in Missouri say I don't have a Southern accent. At the end of the day, I will always be from the South and maybe I'll return, but I'm enjoying the culture of all the other places I get to live and visit.

And completely unrelated, a picture of the cutest baby at the wedding: