We have teeth. We are educated. For the most part, our family tree actually branches.
Sure, we might whip out a banjo but we just as easily could play our iPod. We might dine on fusion cuisine or we might crave some butter beans cooked with a little fatback. We like to go deer hunting and bass fishing but we compost our kitchen waste and sort our recyclables.
We’ll update our facebook page from where we sit drinking corn liquor from a jar beside a camp fire. We read Garden & Gun magazine and we whoop and holler at the Friday night high school football games. We might sip wine at an art gallery opening tonight and troll through yard sales looking for bargains tomorrow morning.
We wear our Carhartts on the ski slopes, and we always try to leave at least one Christmas decoration up year ’round to stay in line with our neighbors. We can toggle between Oprah and NASCAR without batting an eye.
We are the new. The old. The rural South.