Southern Comfort

Every now and then you hear stories about couples/families hopping into an RV for an extended road trip across the country. While I can understand the allure, I'm not sure a year in the back of a trailer is in my future. That's not to say I don't appreciate a good road trip. When the kids were little, we used to pack up a steady supply of diversions (later a small TV/VCR combo - hey, it's fun to travel with your kids but a little Ninja Turtles or Full House goes a long way) and hit the road. I'd be willing to bet that my offspring remember these trips with more fondness than that beach vacation in Mexico or even the obligatory week at Disney.

Now that my husband and I are on our own, the dynamics of our beloved road trips have changed but the surprising moments of joy they provide haven't. Take last week. The two of us packed up the car for a trip to Kentucky with a dual purpose - to work on the house we still own in the western part of the state and to attend a wedding in Lexington.We spent the first four days scrapping windows, painting bedrooms, and clearing brush (well, my hubby got the better part of that job) and the last three days cleaning ourselves up sufficiently to attend the festivities of a ritzy wedding in the heart of the horse capital of the world.

When you head south from the Chicago area, it isn't long before you enter into an alternate universe. People get a whole lot more friendly, the "y'alls" start flowing, and sausage gravy and biscuits shows up on every restaurant menu.  While I can't imagine adding the latter to my diet, I love everything else that goes with a visit to the South. Whenever we had any kind of difficulty, from having enough quarters for my daily USA Today treat to picking out a gallon of paint to finding a place to eat, the residents of Kentucky couldn't do enough for us. We never encountered a rude sales clerk, a surly driver, or a pouty waitress. I'm not saying they don't exist south of the Mason/Dixon line but you sure couldn't prove it by our experiences. That's why, after a week of "yes, m'ams" and "no, sirs", I'm missing the polite, caring, go-out-of-your-way-for-your-neighbors attitude that permeates the South. I'm missing the slower, take-time-to-enjoy-your-life pace. And I'm especially missing the sound of that twang that infiltrates every syllable of a Kentuckian's speech.

Although my husband swears I bring a little of that home with me every time we go down there. I don't know what the heck he's talkin' about but y'all go out there and have a nice day, okay.