When my wife had the idea to write a newspaper column about local tourism in the Iuka/Pickwick area, I told her I, her amazing husband, should take over one week to write the true outsider’s perspective. Born and raised in New York City, I don’t think you can get a more outsider’s opinion than mine. So, now, can I cram all my thoughts on the Pickwick area into a single 500-word column?
I remember the first time visiting Iuka when Mary and I were dating. We were coming down for an Ole Miss football game. No need to worry I thought, I’ve been to many NFL football games in my time and have seen the parking lots of Giants Stadium while watching my Jets get blown out. When Mary told me to wear my Sunday best, I really thought she was joking. But, to humor her, I packed my “nice” jeans (the ones without the tears in the knees) and a t-shirt with no grass stains. When we woke up to leave on Saturday morning (at 6am for a noon kickoff, which should have been my first red flag), I knew I made a mistake. Luckily, the Iuka Walmart had khakis and a button-down, but that was my first realization that things down South were a little different.
First off, the weather. Up north, when they say it’s going to rain, you’ll get a slow drizzle all day. Down here, if it’s going to rain, it’d be bright and sunny all day until a week’s worth of rain falls in about 30 minutes. Normally it happens right after you decide to launch your boat. And I know you don’t need one more reminder of the ridiculous humidity but it drags you down after a while. Give me light jacket, leaves changing color weather any day of the week.
One place the differences aren’t as shocking is the suburban landscape. Driving down a major highway in Long Island is similar to driving down Highway 72 in Corinth. It’s just strip mall after strip mall, with all sorts of fast food and Home Depots. Just add a few more bagel stores and delis. However, when I lived in Manhattan, I didn’t even own a car so walking or using mass transit was our regular commute.
Southerners definitely tend to be friendlier, but they will talk your ear off if you’re not careful. Everyone talks about how rude New Yorkers are, but it’s really that we’re more direct than other people. We got places to go, people to see, get to the point! If he doesn’t like someone, he’ll say it and not throw out a “bless his heart” at the end to soften the blow. Maybe it’s just me, but I prefer plain old aggressive, instead of passive aggressive.
But mostly, I found people down here to be warm and welcoming. Even though I was always the “Yankee” (but a Mets fan!), I never felt out of place. Everyone in the area is always gracious and inviting, especially when it comes to cooking you some food. Once, I even got some “homemade” Sonic cheeseburgers since the chain was non-existent up north and it was a staple that I needed to have every time I visited. I also adopted some of the hometown practices. I own a pick-up truck, a pontoon boat, and I’ve actually said “y’all” unironically.
Now, can someone point me to where I can get a good slice of pizza?
Randy Grodsky works for FedEx marketing in Memphis and is the husband of The Local Tourist columnist Mary Beard Grodsky, dad of two, and aspiring Southerner.