[...] Now, don't get me wrong. Some of my dearest friends are from the North, bless their hearts. I welcome their perspective, their friendships and their recipes for authentic Northern Italian food. I've even gotten past their endless complaints that you can't find good bread down here. And the heathens, bless their hearts, don't like cornbread!

The ones that really gore my ox are the native Southerners who have begun to act almost embarrassed about their speech. We've already lost too much. I was raised to swanee, not swear, but you hardly ever hear anyone say that anymore, I swanee you don't.

And I've caught myself thinking twice before saying something is "right much," "right close" or "right good" because non-natives think this is right funny indeed. Bless their hearts! I have a friend from Bawston who thinks it's hilarious when I say I've got to "carry" my daughter to the doctor or "cut off" the light. She also gets a giggle every time I am "fixing" to do something. And, bless their hearts, they don't know where "over yonder" is, or what "I reckon" means.

My personal favorite was my aunt saying, "Bless her heart, she can't help being ugly, but she could've stayed home." [...]