Why I Could Never Run for Veep

So those who love me as only family can have been suggesting I might have a VP spot in my future. You know, soccer mom and all that jazz. Ummmmm.... No. And for one very clear reason.
I have too much West Texas in my talk.

You see, the phrases that I grew up with, that are very much a part of my vernacular might be considered rude or even racist.

This has become exceedingly apparent the last couple of days. Last Thursday, Rep. Lynn Westmoreland, of the Grantville, Ga., Westmorelands, said he thought the Obamas had become a bit "uppity." The democrats wasted no time before jumping on that supposedly racist remark and declaring the need for an apology. Apparently, to some, the word, "uppity" refers to black people who are seeking equal treatment -- going back to the Old South when this might have referred to them seeking a higher station in life than they were called to serve.

Are they sure? Because around here, uppity means snobbishness or snootiness. As in, "That girl sure has been uppity ever since she got elected cheerleader." Or... "Since she moved into town, she's gotten all uppity -- like she's too cool to ride around Sonic in the farm truck."

Then, today, I see that the tables have turned. This time, Obama made a reference to the McCain / Palin being the agents of change -- he said that was like putting "lipstick on a pig." Of course, the McCain camp jumped all over that and demanded an apology for such a sexist remark. Frankly, I think they could have heard much worse.

Growing up, we used lots of terms that later I learned weren't quite kosher. I didn't realize the term "wet" was off limits until I met Biggs, and I have to admit that I never thought twice about it when someone said they "jewed down the Kirby vacuum guy." Back home, they'd find out that "If you put a monkey in a red dress, you've still got a monkey." I'm sure Obama wouldn't hesitate to point out the racist quality of that, but it's never been racist to us -- it's a Nelva-ism if there ever was one. And it's always been a fun little phrase to use when applicable.

Had Hillary showed up in Fluvanna last spring, she might have been told to "pull up her knee socks," or better yet, "put her big girl panties on and deal with it."

Dude.. Wouldn't a campaign stop in Fluvanna be a hoot? You'd have to have them stop at the Community Center for a potluck -- or maybe an ice cream supper. They'd have to check out the women's restroom where we stuck all those wet paper towels to the ceiling. Uncle Don could put the media up in the Gin House. And it the trip wouldn't be complete without a trip to the Caprock or a tour of the windmills. Maybe we should suggest that!