SL - Lesson #2

During my last trip down South, I was given what one gentleman called “Rule number one for northern transplants” – Never honk your horn, and never, ever use an obscene gesture because some Good Ole Boy, or Gal, will follow you home and whoop your ass right in your driveway. First thought – I had already honked twice that morning already and two, my family is going to have a very hard time visiting.

It’s a schizophrenic world where everyone is eager to be your best friend with smiling faces when you enter any store. People in Hootersville first ask about your health and about your family as that’s your identifier. People in DC ask “what do you do?” as a first question. I’m betting that if you ask the same of a citizen of the deep South, they might look at you a little odd and say “…fine…”. Other than that, I only ran into one person during the last trip that wasn’t as sweet as pie and then some.

Something tells me, however, that the same person might not feel the as welcoming should my bike and their pickup travel on the same road. Just saying.