Redneck Nation (28 page)

Apparently so. Part of the impetus for writing this book was the unceasing barrage of arrogance and attitude directed southward
by northern Americans. Another motive was to find some way to differentiate the parts of southern culture that should be buried
(but sadly, have been bought into by the rest of America) and the parts that should be embraced and preserved.

The Northerners who have adapted the worst of Southernism have, in turn, dumped their worst upon us. Take bagels—please.

Take them back up North or out West or wherever you brought them from. The one thing we do not need in the South is another
white, flavorless breakfast starch. If I wanted to spend my mornings choking down lumps of tough, indigestible dough, I would
ask my wife to start making biscuits again.

Bagels are an example of distinctly northern dining, like a bowl of clam chowder in New England or a twenty-seven-dollar plate
of Chef Boyardee at a Manhattan hostaria. Bagels are about as southern as a subway token. But travel around the South and
in every strip mall, in every grocery store—even in the hallowed aisles of the Winn-Dixie—there they are: bagels. And not
just any bagels, either. Spreading like kudzu across the South are shops like New York Bagel and their competitors Big Apple
Bagel—which is likely to be around the corner from Manhattan Bagel.

I know that the Carolinas are a popular retirement destination for disillusioned Yankees fleeing the wrecked, northern cities
they helped destroy, but my God, people—didn’t you leave anything behind? The New York state of mind is seizing control of
the entire southern economy, and I’m not just talking delis. Down South we’ve got New York City Pizza, New York Life Insurance
(don’t they need a lot more of this than we do?), and, of course, New York Carpet World.

Without leaving our borders, I can buy a suit at New Yorker Men’s Fashions, pick up a hot new frock for my favorite gal at
the New York Boutique, get my hair done at New York Stylists, and while away the evening at Manhattan’s Nite Life. And if
that’s not enough, people in Charleston, South Carolina, can go to something called
New York Moods, where, I assume from the name, cheerful Southerners can get an up-North attitudinal adjustment. I have even
written them a new motto: “Turn Your Jethro into a Jerk!”

I became more sensitive than most to this new War of Northern Aggression after living in New York for a while. I can tell
you firsthand that there is still plenty of northern aggression to go around. Ask a waitress in a New York restaurant if they
have grits, and you might as well take out your teeth, strap on your banjo, and start squealing like a pig.

“Grits?” one particularly parochial hash slinger barked at me. “Wazzamattawitchoo? Weahdoyootinkyoare, anyway? Weahyoofum?
Hey, Joey! Dis guy wants to know if we got grits!” Well, I showed her. I hitched up my overalls, stuck my John Deere hat on
my head, and stomped my bare feet outta there.

Having lived on both sides of the Mason-Dixon line, I have noticed a strange double standard. When we Southerners travel to
the North and ask the locals to accommodate our cultural tastes—grits, barbecue, inbreeding—they react with indignation. “Wazzamattawitchoo?
You people are weird!” Conversely, when Northerners traveling in the South find their ethnic needs occasionally unmet, their
response is “Wazzamattawitchoo? You people are weird.” No matter which direction you go, the blame winds up here in the South.
And I believe we Southerners, beneath the weight of our regional inferiority complex, tacitly agree.

Southerners, particularly college-educated ones, are Upper West Side wanna-bes, closet carpetbaggers who believe in our hearts
that we should emulate our big-city betters,
with no expectation that they will return the compliment. The entire time I lived in New York, I never saw a sign for “Carolina
Carpet World” or “Dixie Hairstyles.” No “Alabama Boutiques” or “South Carolina Moods” either. And what’s more, I didn’t expect
them. It seemed perfectly natural to me that New York tastes would be accommodated down South but that southern tastes would
disappear in northern climates.

Southern scholars like C. Vann Woodward and John Shelton Reed place the blame on our native obsequiousness, one result of
losing the war. Having lost our nation’s only military “intramural scrimmage,” our tendency is to defer to our northern neighbors.
That is one theory.

Another, less esoteric view was best expressed by my uncle Willie: “Damn, there’s a lot of Yankees! And those Catholic ones
breed like rabbits.” To put it another way, states like New York have big populations, and as their citizens travel, it is
only natural for their superior numbers to give them more influence in the marketplace.

Whatever the cause, I believe it is time for defenders of southern heritage to respond. If America is going to be a Redneck
Nation, we rednecks ought to take advantage of it while we can.

Perhaps we could get Southerners identified as an ethnic minority with special rights. The government would be forced to implement
a quota system so that a certain percentage of road construction money would be set aside to build restaurants selling pecan
logs along New York expressways. The National Endowment for the Arts funds could be used to foist Charlie Daniels music on
unsuspecting New Yorkers. We could even ask the World Trade
Organization to impose a swap: For every bagel we eat, a Yankee has to eat a chitlin.

That’ll show ’em.

My wife and I were discussing this trend with great concern not long ago, wondering what we could do to stem the tide of encroaching
New Yorkism. We were down in Myrtle Beach sitting in a local watering hole at a place called Broadway on the Beach. She was
drinking a Manhattan, and I was having a Long Island Iced Tea. From the jukebox came the sounds of Ol’ Blue Eyes singing “New
York, New York.”

Suddenly it hit me. “Bartender!” I cried. “Two mint juleps—before it’s too late!”

by Tucker Carlson

Millions of Americans tune in to see Tucker Carlson on CNN’s
Crossfire
as he rouses conservatives and charms liberals with his singular brand of acerbic wit and razor-sharp insight. Now he loosens
his signature bow tie and cracks keen and wise like never before, as he exposes—and defends—Washington’s power elite. In riveting,
often hilarious detail, this most unabashed of Beltway insiders demonstrates how television distorts and distracts even as
it informs… or, in his indelible words, “it brings out the crazy in people.”

by Bernard Goldberg

In his #1
New York Times
bestseller
Bias
, Emmy Award-winning journalist Bernard Goldberg created a national firestorm when he laid bare the mainstream media’s liberal
bias. Now, in his new blockbuster exposé, he goes one dramatic step beyond to reveal the source of that bias. Building his
case with lively arguments and interviews, Goldberg also offers a twelve-step program to cure even the most thin-skinned,
close-minded, and arrogant in the business. Insightful and riveting,
Arrogance
is a must for all readers of every political persuasion.

Forget the calzone and cannoli; the only real difference between Brooklyn, New York, and Birmingham, Alabama, is that you
can’t get a gun rack into a Trans Am
.

Trailer parks, pickup trucks,
Hee Haw
, grits …just the mention of any one of these can elicit a smirk north of the Mason-Dixon Line. But according to Michael Graham,
the South is getting the last laugh because redneckery has spread like kudzu from Bangor to Baja. Don’t believe it? How else
do you explain the incredible popularity of NASCAR and pro wrestling?

Now Michael Graham—writer comedian, radio talk show host, and former GOP flack—fearlessly takes on big government, the public
school system, Enron, free speech illiteracy, multiculturalism, and racism. He proves that the ideas Northern liberals once
marched south to protest make up the agenda they promote today. Provocative, honest, and hilarious, Graham takes no prisoners—reminding
us that for every slack-jawed yokel swearing he just saw Elvis, there’s a left-wing Yankee trying to re-segregate America’s
schools or watching the chitlin’ eating contest on his favorite reality TV show.

“Michael Graham’s REDNECK NATION dispels the Southern stereotype. Perfect for reading in bed with your sister.”
—Bill Maher

“A literary shotgun wedding between George Will and Jerry Seinfeld.”
—CNN.com

“I can’t remember the last time I read a political book as witty and incisive as REDNECK NATION. It was like potato chips:
I couldn’t stop. And I felt better after.”
—Tucker Carlson

^*
Although Woodrow Wilson was born in Virginia and lived in (among other places) Columbia, South Carolina, no true Southerner
can count the former president of Princeton and governor of New Jersey as a “Southern” president.