The South = Nascar and Moonshine

I moved to Los Angeles exactly one week ago. I have never truly been able to empathize with those subjected to stereotypes more fully than in this past week of encounters with the "Left Coasters." I am not saying that I have never had brushes with stereotypes in the past. Come to think of it, I have actually been the victim of numerous stereotypes on previous occasions because of the following reasons:

1. I am blonde. The stereotype that is attached to this reality is: people assume that I am stupid. Does it make a difference if the fair-haired person is a natural or bottled blonde? It seems like we suicide blondes (dyed by our own hands) get more heat. Let's clear something up, folks. Just because Marilyn Monroe and Anna Nicole Smith spoke in breathy erotic tones, had ginormous blouse bunnies, and had the I.Q. of eggplants, does not mean that all blondes, naturally or chemically enhanced, are stupid.

2. I am free spirited. I wake up and do whatever I want whenever I want. I do not usually feel obligated to do something just because it pertains to cultural norms or social expectations. Stereotype? People think that I am an alcoholic pothead hoe-bag. I often make off-color comments at inappropriate times and am not embarrassed to sing karaoke sober. I am also outgoing. Somehow, this combination leads people to believe that I walk around with a Jack Daniel's I.V. drip in my veins with a doobie in one hand and KY in the other. I have never smoked pot or done any kind of drug. I also don't drink that much because I can't afford it and I'm terrified of gaining weight. To me, calorie consumption is like having a checking account. There's only so much in that account that you can spend. I'd rather invest my calories in coconut cake than alcohol. And the wild relations issue? I'm quite conservative in that department. STD's and babies? No thanks. I'm too self centered.

3. I am a woman. This means, to the great majority, that I cannot drive, I automatically want to get married and have children, and that I like to cook. Let's talk about the driving issue. I humbly admit that I am not the best parker because I have no depth perception; however, I've never received a speeding ticket and I've never even been pulled over. In addition to the driving stereotype, there is this "end all, be all" idea that women need a kinsman redeemer husband in order to attain happiness and meaning. Let's get this straight, kids. I need exceedingly abundant amounts of personal space and I like to exercise the right to change my mind. The thought of sharing the same bed with a person for the rest of my life and having a permanent roommate is absolutely abhorring to me. This could be because I have not met the right person for me or because I am just not at the point in my life to be excited about the possibility of marriage, but just because I am a woman does not mean that I am on the prowl for a husband (though I often make jokes about finding a wealthy future ex-husband who can pay off my student loans). And the kids thing. Just because I have a uterus does not mean that I want an 8.5 pound human being exiting my nether regions. In the words of someone whom I cannot remember, "Having a baby is like pushing a wet St. Bernard through a cat door!" As fun as that sounds, I think I'll give it a "no thanks" for now. To conclude this section, I do not cook because I am a logical and economical person, and it does not make sense to me to invest time in preparing a meal just to eat it in the end. Consuming food is not a pleasurable enough experience for me to invest hours in grocery shopping, preparation, and clean up. The input simply does not equal the output.

So let's talk about these Californian stereotypes. It seems like people immediately judge me as soon as I open my mouth. I have quite the Southern drawl, I'll admit. I don't ever realize that I speak like Ellie May Clampet until someone says, "Whoa. Where are you from?" Then I remember that I do not blend in with the "Like, dude!" speakers of the West Coast. Let me tell you about my most recent encounter(s).

I was lying by my apartment pool the other day and was approached by a nice young man. He took a chair next to me and we began talking. He and his girlfriend live together in my complex. He was pleasant, well-mannered, and witty. Our personalities clicked well, so we wound up speaking for several hours as we soaked up the sun. In the course of our conversation, he asked me about Tennessee. I told him that I had always wanted to live in L.A. so I made the move at a good time in my life. It was at this point in the conversation that he asked if I knew how to square dance. I said, "No, but I do have a moonshine distillery in my apartment." The idea of square dancing was very intriguing to him, so I eventually told him that yes, I have attended two square dances, but both were in Starkville, Mississippi, and that people in Memphis are predominantly African American. I think that Three Six Mafia and Justin Timberlake should be representative enough of people who come from the M-town. Could you really picture Juicy J and Lord Infamous doing the do-si-do? I don't think so.

Another young man asked my sister and me if our dad likes Nascar. My dad is the most metro baby boomer I have ever met. He is more interested in keeping his 3 week hair appointment than watching Dale Ernheart, Jr. In fact, I don't think that my dad even knows what Nascar is. I have also been asked, about a thousand times, if I like country music. Though I know a lot of vintage country tunes because of my dad's affinity for Hank Williams Jr., there is no genre that I despise more than country.

Also, it seems that people in L.A. lump all of the Southern states together. My landlord has given me the nickname "Alabama," and a group of friends welcomed me to L.A. from Texas the other night. I am pretty sure that there is no Memphis, Texas. It's funny to me to recognize how people view the South out here. People in the South have very well defined views of each specific Southern state and do not confuse Tennesseans with Texans. People in L.A. picture everyone in the South in their whitey-tighties, sitting on the stoops of their log cabins, smoking corn cob pipes and playing banjos.

I am not actually offended at the generalizations that people have made of me because of my Southern heritage. I find them amusing. I could imagine in a few months that the stereotypes could get old, but for now, they are just funny. Ignorance blows my mind. I have had a few "caring" friends share a word of advice about how I should try to "lose" my accent and not say things like, "I'm fixin' to go to the store." Clearly they do not know Ray Hay. If people already assume that I am a dumb party girl, they might as well think that I also smoke a corn cob pipe. I'm sure as heck not changing.