Just a Pinch of South

For those of us who grew up in the South but have moved elsewhere, we love our roots and all they have provided. There's a lot that I've come to appreciate about the South. But let's be honest, most of us don't want to go back to "full Southern." We're happy with just a pinch here and there to add flavor to the life we live now. If you are not a Southerner, perhaps you'll come to better appreciate the little gifts the American South has given and continues to give our culture. This blog is written by Elizabeth Bloodworth. Photos are not mine unless specified. Email me at justapinchofsouth @ gmail dot com. I tweet at @apinchofsouth and my other tumblr is called "everythingthatdoesntfitelsewhere" which is just what it sounds like.


Continuing with my occasional series of interviews with people who embody the concept of “just a pinch of South” I had the opportunity to interview Micah Whitson from The Old Try a few weeks ago. He and his wife Marianna are Southern expats living in Boston, Massachusetts. Micah was raised in Alabama, but has also made his home in Mississippi, Georgia, and North Carolina before moving to Boston in 2007. That’s what I call Southern ecumenical. 
Micah and Marianna have day jobs, but you may know them from their unique Southern inflected letterpress posters. I first fell in love with their work when I saw (and immediately purchased) their manners print. It turns out that one is Micah’s favorite, too. 
Micah and I talked books, faith, and barbecue (As Micah says, “Alabama barbecue is my jam.”), but there’s just too much to include it all. Here are some highlights. 
JaPoS: What do you miss about living in the South?
MW: I certainly miss the food of the South, but I think the main thing I miss is that even if it’s really, really busy back home, there’s always this feeling of the possibility of fellowshipping around the corner.  You know you could just roll into someone’s house, or call up a friend, and could actually do things with them. Boston is such a scheduled and regimented place. Our best friends here we see three times a year, maybe.  If we don’t work with people then it’s really hard to get time to see them. There’s just that feeling of harried-ness here. When we go back home I can call up friends in Alabama and I can say,  “Hey, do you want to get a beer tonight?” and they are like, “Sure I’m not doing anything.”  Here I feel like it is tough to do those things and be neighborly because you try to do it, and nobody’s got the time for it.
JaPoS: How do you think living in New England has shaped or changed you?
MW: I think the biggest thing comes from living with people who have different kinds of backgrounds. I can be a pretty judgmental person and think, “This is right and that thing is wrong,” and there isn’t any grey area.  But living in New England has really allowed us to realize both as Christians and as human beings on the earth that there is a place to speak truth, and there is a call to do that with love, but at the same time, it isn’t really my place to judge. I can try to live an example, but I don’t think it is really my job to force that example onto everyone else.  Living here has made us a lot more accepting. Not necessarily that we have just thrown the baby out with the bathwater, but a lot of our lives are lived in that grey area. It’s a helpful thing to have to grow and think about that and wrestle with those ideas while not being surrounded with the “group think” that says, “This is just what we do, and if you don’t do it you can just move to a different state.” Instead, by living [in Boston] we’ve really had to confront those things and live with people who believe different things.  Because we are all just people, it’s our job to love one another.
I think too another thing that has changed, in part the main genesis for Old Try, is living somewhere else and then realizing that there can be a lot of shame in being a Southerner. I grew up just regular old guy in Alabama, and I feel like because of the stories that we are told and the things we read we think, “Oh man I guess we as Southerners are not as cultured as other people.” Then by moving elsewhere I’ve seen that there are just as many rednecks in Connecticut and Massachusetts as there are in Tennessee and Alabama.  You get somewhere else and you realize that there are all the same kind social problems and issues that happen in the South. I’ve realized that I don’t need to be ashamed of my Southerness.  I think now I can go toe to toe with a person who thinks something negative as to what being a Southerner is.  I can talk about it with some amount of realism because I’m living elsewhere.
What was the inspiration for The Old Try?
MW: Several things came together. Marianna made me a letter sweater which I wore to an Ole Miss game, and everybody was kind of fired up about it. They said, “I have to know where to get one.”  So Marianna and I said, “Well, let’s make some stuff that really connects people to what they are really about and where they are from.” For instance, I went to Ole Miss. But that won’t work for everyone. Let’s say your grandad went to Davidson. If you were to wear a Davidson shirt, that actually has a connection to you beyond just an arbitrary brand. But [because of the difficulty of collegiate licensing] and not knowing what the heck we were doing with fashion, we tabled it. Our name came from “the old college try” because of our original idea.  So [The Old Try] sat around and languished. Then the Tuscaloosa tornadoes came through 2 years ago. Being here, away from home, seeing helicopter footage of Athens and Limestone county, and seeing buildings that had been there for years disappear, it made me miss home. After that I saw a lot of Southern designers who were living outside the South doing different designs to show their solidarity and that they were thinking of home. I was on the bus thinking of that one day, and I realized while we didn’t know anything about clothing, I knew a heck of a lot about print design and how to do that. I walked home and ran the idea by Marianna. So the iteration of Old Try as it is took place in about five minutes on the bus.
Since then, The Old Try has made numerous letterpress posters (and now t-shirts) referencing a wide range of Southern places. To create them, Micah researches history and takes little details to create something unique. No “Hey Y’all” prints from these folks. Most recently, Old Try has partnered with Union Press to produce a print with proceeds going to victims of the Boston Marathon bombing. To get one of these limited edition prints click here.
 Photo Credit: David Salafia

Continuing with my occasional series of interviews with people who embody the concept of “just a pinch of South” I had the opportunity to interview Micah Whitson from The Old Try a few weeks ago. He and his wife Marianna are Southern expats living in Boston, Massachusetts. Micah was raised in Alabama, but has also made his home in Mississippi, Georgia, and North Carolina before moving to Boston in 2007. That’s what I call Southern ecumenical.

Micah and Marianna have day jobs, but you may know them from their unique Southern inflected letterpress posters. I first fell in love with their work when I saw (and immediately purchased) their manners print. It turns out that one is Micah’s favorite, too.

Micah and I talked books, faith, and barbecue (As Micah says, “Alabama barbecue is my jam.”), but there’s just too much to include it all. Here are some highlights.

JaPoS: What do you miss about living in the South?

MW: I certainly miss the food of the South, but I think the main thing I miss is that even if it’s really, really busy back home, there’s always this feeling of the possibility of fellowshipping around the corner.  You know you could just roll into someone’s house, or call up a friend, and could actually do things with them. Boston is such a scheduled and regimented place. Our best friends here we see three times a year, maybe.  If we don’t work with people then it’s really hard to get time to see them. There’s just that feeling of harried-ness here. When we go back home I can call up friends in Alabama and I can say,  “Hey, do you want to get a beer tonight?” and they are like, “Sure I’m not doing anything.”  Here I feel like it is tough to do those things and be neighborly because you try to do it, and nobody’s got the time for it.

JaPoS: How do you think living in New England has shaped or changed you?

MW: I think the biggest thing comes from living with people who have different kinds of backgrounds. I can be a pretty judgmental person and think, “This is right and that thing is wrong,” and there isn’t any grey area.  But living in New England has really allowed us to realize both as Christians and as human beings on the earth that there is a place to speak truth, and there is a call to do that with love, but at the same time, it isn’t really my place to judge. I can try to live an example, but I don’t think it is really my job to force that example onto everyone else.  Living here has made us a lot more accepting. Not necessarily that we have just thrown the baby out with the bathwater, but a lot of our lives are lived in that grey area. It’s a helpful thing to have to grow and think about that and wrestle with those ideas while not being surrounded with the “group think” that says, “This is just what we do, and if you don’t do it you can just move to a different state.” Instead, by living [in Boston] we’ve really had to confront those things and live with people who believe different things.  Because we are all just people, it’s our job to love one another.

I think too another thing that has changed, in part the main genesis for Old Try, is living somewhere else and then realizing that there can be a lot of shame in being a Southerner. I grew up just regular old guy in Alabama, and I feel like because of the stories that we are told and the things we read we think, “Oh man I guess we as Southerners are not as cultured as other people.” Then by moving elsewhere I’ve seen that there are just as many rednecks in Connecticut and Massachusetts as there are in Tennessee and Alabama.  You get somewhere else and you realize that there are all the same kind social problems and issues that happen in the South. I’ve realized that I don’t need to be ashamed of my Southerness.  I think now I can go toe to toe with a person who thinks something negative as to what being a Southerner is.  I can talk about it with some amount of realism because I’m living elsewhere.

What was the inspiration for The Old Try?

MW: Several things came together. Marianna made me a letter sweater which I wore to an Ole Miss game, and everybody was kind of fired up about it. They said, “I have to know where to get one.”  So Marianna and I said, “Well, let’s make some stuff that really connects people to what they are really about and where they are from.” For instance, I went to Ole Miss. But that won’t work for everyone. Let’s say your grandad went to Davidson. If you were to wear a Davidson shirt, that actually has a connection to you beyond just an arbitrary brand. But [because of the difficulty of collegiate licensing] and not knowing what the heck we were doing with fashion, we tabled it. Our name came from “the old college try” because of our original idea.  So [The Old Try] sat around and languished. Then the Tuscaloosa tornadoes came through 2 years ago. Being here, away from home, seeing helicopter footage of Athens and Limestone county, and seeing buildings that had been there for years disappear, it made me miss home. After that I saw a lot of Southern designers who were living outside the South doing different designs to show their solidarity and that they were thinking of home. I was on the bus thinking of that one day, and I realized while we didn’t know anything about clothing, I knew a heck of a lot about print design and how to do that. I walked home and ran the idea by Marianna. So the iteration of Old Try as it is took place in about five minutes on the bus.

Since then, The Old Try has made numerous letterpress posters (and now t-shirts) referencing a wide range of Southern places. To create them, Micah researches history and takes little details to create something unique. No “Hey Y’all” prints from these folks. Most recently, Old Try has partnered with Union Press to produce a print with proceeds going to victims of the Boston Marathon bombing. To get one of these limited edition prints click here.

 Photo Credit: David Salafia

Today is sort of a “boot day” in NYC. A little dreary and chilly.
But I’d just as soon be wherever these people are. I could use the smell of a bonfire right now. I don’t care if it’s spring. It’s still cold up in these parts.

Today is sort of a “boot day” in NYC. A little dreary and chilly.

But I’d just as soon be wherever these people are. I could use the smell of a bonfire right now. I don’t care if it’s spring. It’s still cold up in these parts.

(Source: sorakeem, via prepfection)

Dear Reese, when your husband gets pulled over in a Ford Fusion on Peachtree Road across from the Publix, please don’t be surprised that the arresting officer does not know you, or your body of work. Southern cop dudes are not in your demographic, honey. I don’t think too many have seen “Legally Blonde,” you know? Atlanta may consider itself to be the “Hollywood of the South,” but Los Angeles it ain’t. You’re from Tennessee, so you should know this. xoxo

image

(Source: whatshouldglotzbachcallme)

This morning I planted three varieties of heirloom tomato plants in pots on my dad’s back deck.It’s not something I would ever feel like I could do in New York. Pollution, lack of perfect sunlight, the chance of being nibbled on by rats keeps my green thumb instincts in check. In New York.But being in Georgia just a few days this time of year makes me want to dig in the dirt. Maybe it is all the pollen, the dogwoods, the warmth.Or the generations of women in my family before me who loved to garden,

This morning I planted three varieties of heirloom tomato plants in pots on my dad’s back deck.

It’s not something I would ever feel like I could do in New York. Pollution, lack of perfect sunlight, the chance of being nibbled on by rats keeps my green thumb instincts in check. In New York.

But being in Georgia just a few days this time of year makes me want to dig in the dirt. Maybe it is all the pollen, the dogwoods, the warmth.

Or the generations of women in my family before me who loved to garden,

(via lifeofhunt)

I’m  not sure it’s possible to have grown up in Georgia in my era and not been a huge fan of R.E.M. They were the darlings of what was called “college radio” in the mid/late 1980’s. That meant they were popular, but not mainstream - the sweet spot between obscure and “sell-out.” In particular, their early years at IRS records were their very best.
R.E.M was hands down my favorite band in 8th grade. I can’t even imagine how many times I listened to their album (or, in my case cassette) Life’s Rich Pageant trying to figure out what Michael Stipe was talking about. The lyrical obfuscation was a large part of their appeal. I will always associate those songs with the longing, confusion and anticipation of early adolescence.
I love this poster I picked up on Fab.com. I wish I’d been at this actual concert. My first R.E.M. concert wasn’t until 1987.

I’m  not sure it’s possible to have grown up in Georgia in my era and not been a huge fan of R.E.M. They were the darlings of what was called “college radio” in the mid/late 1980’s. That meant they were popular, but not mainstream - the sweet spot between obscure and “sell-out.” In particular, their early years at IRS records were their very best.

R.E.M was hands down my favorite band in 8th grade. I can’t even imagine how many times I listened to their album (or, in my case cassette) Life’s Rich Pageant trying to figure out what Michael Stipe was talking about. The lyrical obfuscation was a large part of their appeal. I will always associate those songs with the longing, confusion and anticipation of early adolescence.

I love this poster I picked up on Fab.com. I wish I’d been at this actual concert. My first R.E.M. concert wasn’t until 1987.

I’m digging this monogrammed note paper. I also like how they’ve only chosen one non-Southernish state to represent with the State/Monogram combo. They must know their audience.
But are there, like, a lot of monogrammers in Cali? Who knew?

Personalized notepad. SincerelyYoursPaper on Etsy.

I’m digging this monogrammed note paper. I also like how they’ve only chosen one non-Southernish state to represent with the State/Monogram combo. They must know their audience.

But are there, like, a lot of monogrammers in Cali? Who knew?

Personalized notepad. SincerelyYoursPaper on Etsy.

(via truelifeofasouthernbelle)

scuffalong:

Sunny South AL, Mar 31.
© LY Henderson
[Easter morning. I see only one church — Sunny South Baptist — but there surely are more, for Sunny South is busy with passing cars. I turn my phone this way and that; behind me, a rhythmic thwack.  A grizzled man in a tan leisure suit is beating his floormats.  His black dog pays me no mind.]

Just a straight up reblog of my friend scuffalong. Her pics of the dying old South are terrific. Follow her tumblr.

scuffalong:

Sunny South AL, Mar 31.

© LY Henderson

[Easter morning. I see only one church — Sunny South Baptist — but there surely are more, for Sunny South is busy with passing cars. I turn my phone this way and that; behind me, a rhythmic thwack.  A grizzled man in a tan leisure suit is beating his floormats.  His black dog pays me no mind.]

Just a straight up reblog of my friend scuffalong. Her pics of the dying old South are terrific. Follow her tumblr.

We all know Florida isn’t really the South. Well, vast stretches of it anyway.
I’m in Orlando right now and let me double/triple confirm this. Jacksonville and the Panhandle may be very Southern, but this is not. Not by accent or attitude or cuisine or anything else I can think of. 
I’m currently in the outer ‘burbs at a conference. We are near Sea World. There are only chain restaurants and bland housing developments with some nondescript office parks thrown in. Aside from the palm trees, I could be practically anywhere. 
The one little ray of … Hope (?) or even a sense of history was this Tastee Treat. It seems a little out of place, frankly, in this area. But I love it. I will also love leaving tomorrow.

We all know Florida isn’t really the South. Well, vast stretches of it anyway.
I’m in Orlando right now and let me double/triple confirm this. Jacksonville and the Panhandle may be very Southern, but this is not. Not by accent or attitude or cuisine or anything else I can think of.
I’m currently in the outer ‘burbs at a conference. We are near Sea World. There are only chain restaurants and bland housing developments with some nondescript office parks thrown in. Aside from the palm trees, I could be practically anywhere.
The one little ray of … Hope (?) or even a sense of history was this Tastee Treat. It seems a little out of place, frankly, in this area. But I love it. I will also love leaving tomorrow.

I like old things. Much of my childhood was spent tagging along with my mother to antique shops and estate sales. She counted actual “pickers” amongst her friends. She collected Southern primitive antique furniture. Tables from general stores, hand made chairs, and the like. 

My taste has always been more 20th century, more “vintage,” than actual antiques. I have collected old signs since I was about 14. 

I love old cars, too. Which I realize isn’t very girly of me. My first car was a hand-me-down 1966 Plymouth. I wish I owned a vintage truck. I’m in Los Angeles this week and the neighborhood I’m in, Venice, is overrun with these amazing old rusted trucks. 

If you’d like to see more trucks and more things I find interesting check out my Instagram. 

Http//:Instagram.com/justapinchofsouth

I like old things. Much of my childhood was spent tagging along with my mother to antique shops and estate sales. She counted actual “pickers” amongst her friends. She collected Southern primitive antique furniture. Tables from general stores, hand made chairs, and the like.

My taste has always been more 20th century, more “vintage,” than actual antiques. I have collected old signs since I was about 14.

I love old cars, too. Which I realize isn’t very girly of me. My first car was a hand-me-down 1966 Plymouth. I wish I owned a vintage truck. I’m in Los Angeles this week and the neighborhood I’m in, Venice, is overrun with these amazing old rusted trucks.

If you’d like to see more trucks and more things I find interesting check out my Instagram.

Http//:Instagram.com/justapinchofsouth