Oh My Darlin' :Ode to the Dirty South

I'll tell ya, the thing I'll miss the most from the south is the very thing I despised when I moved here. When people call me Darlin'. Not so much those you know, but always strangers...people who cannot have an accurate perception yet of my darlingness. Like my grocer, my hairstylest, notably, my mechanic.

Once I got over the awkwardness of it (Minnesotans just don't have that word in their vocabulary...it doesn't fit their nasaly accent) it started to become a word of comfort. You can be all a twitter or frustrated, confused, lost, plain pissed off and old joe-smo calls you "darlin'" and all worries subside, the sun shines again, suddenly your mechanic isn't ripping you off, and life is just plain good, especially as you naw on your hot bag of boiled peanuts. good times.