Heavens to Betsy!

For Christmas, a couple of friends gifted me the cutest adult coloring book, full of "Southern Sayins & Sass." I can't tell you how addictively therapeutic it has been to sharpen up my colored pencils and go to town in this little book. I have also thoroughly enjoyed reliving so many Southern sayings this coloring book has brought back into memory. These are phrases that I just don't hear as often in North Carolina as I did growing up back in small town Georgia, but they are as charming as ever.

Naturally, I started with the granddaddy of them all. North or South, near or far, we all know about the different nuances of having your heart blessed. I was pleased, however, to discover that my new coloring book delved into some other phrases you might have just forgotten about. Now, hold your hissy fit and don't get your knickers in a knot, I know you didn't just fall off the turnip truck. Butter my butt and call me a biscuit, here are some of my favorites:

If Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy. This one isn't just Southern, y'all, it's universal. Keep Mama happy no matter what it takes, or you will live to regret the consequences. It's not so much a saying as it is a warning, so heed this little bit of wisdom, I beg of you. Love you, Mom. Mean it.

Slicker than a greased pig at a county fair. I don't know much about county fairs, to be honest. I grew up in a small town that had carnivals, which admittedly lack the fanfare and pomp that county fairs possess. Riding the Tilt-a-Whirl in the Wendy's parking lot just does not compete on the same level as seeing a life-size cow sculpted from home churned butter. In my single trip to the Anderson County fair in college, I'm afraid I didn't see any pigs, greased or otherwise, although I did get to see Rascal Flats give a free concert while sitting comfortably on a bale of hay. A quick Google search brings up tons of greased pig competitions, taking places at county fairs near and far, whereby the competitors and the pigs are all greased, and each participant tries to grab themselves a greased pig and hold on the longest to win what I can only fathom is a tremendous prize. Plus bragging rights, which we all know are priceless.

Naked as a jaybird. If you're not familiar with this one, it's a genteel term used to describe someone who is stark naked. As it turns out, in the 19th century, a "jaybird" wasn't a bird at all, but a nickname for a hick or a bumpkin. Naked as a jaybird means someone is as vulnerable as those naive folks would have been, although I would rather be naive in public than naked, given the option. I suppose no matter what, it's better than being so ugly you'd scare the buzzard off a gut pile.

Southern cooking makes you good looking. I'm afraid I'm going to have to beg to differ on this one. I am a product of the South, I love good Southern cooking, and hence I have been on a diet since the ripe old age of six. Macaroni and cheese, chicken and dumplings, all those ooey gooey casseroles, fried okra, fried chicken, fried green tomatoes (notice a pattern forming here?)...all these things are delicious, and they will make you happy--they may even make you want to "smack your mama"--but pretty they do not necessarily do. Unless your idea of beauty is fluffy, pudgy, round things, in which case Southern cooking will absolutely do the trick.

This one is (highly) debatable. Pass the biscuits, just in case.

Going to hell in a handbasket. I did a little research on this one, because it happens to be one of my favorites. While no one really knows where this catchy little phrase originated, one theory is that it comes from the use of handbaskets to catch heads in the guillotining method of punishment. Those heads were caught in baskets and their previous owner was thought to have gone straight to hell. However it came to be, I find it colorful and it conjures images of hell fire and fury combined with accessorizing, and I am a fan.

Party 'til the cows come home. If you haven't noticed, cows don't to much in a hurry. This one means to party for a long, unhurried amount of time, presumably until those cows get done grazing and come home early in the morning to be milked. You didn't know farm life was such a good time, now did you?

Wicked chickens lay deviled eggs. You know not to put them all in one basket, but what about those deviled eggs? First and foremost, as a Southerner, this one makes me hungry for my mama's deviled eggs. Sweet pickle relish, yellow mustard, Duke's mayonnaise, and top them with a sprinkle of paprika (you know, for color). Wait, I'm getting off course here. I do believe what this saying is that you reap what you sow. Don't expect a wicked chicken to lay you a saintly golden egg; if you believe that, well, you're dumb enough to throw yourself on the ground and miss.

Well, sugar my foot, all this talk has got me, as my coloring book would say, plumb tuckered out. I'm happier than a tornado in a trailer park to have shared some of these with you, and I'm hoping I've explained some of these little ditties without leaving you as lost as last year's Easter egg. I think I'll get out that box of colored pencils and see what other catchy phrases I can get into: in other words, I'm fixing to color up a storm, y'all.

On Our Last Day as National Champions

All week, various people have been consoling me about my Clemson Tigers. It's almost as if the roof of the Mercedes-Benz Superdome caved in and pulverized every last one of them, the way folks have reacted. I even had a former neighbor (who shall remain nameless to protect him from his own alumni base), a die hard Gamecock, tell me he had been pulling for Clemson and was really disappointed our season came to an end. I'm not going to say that the Sugar Bowl loss wasn't disappointing, but after over two decades of being a Tiger fan, you won't catch me complaining about a 12-2 season, either.

When I was a student at Clemson, we were not what you would call a football powerhouse. I never realized it, though, because Clemson fans always show up, are always enthusiastic, are always what we have now termed "all in." It never occurred to me that we weren't the best team around because of all the pomp and circumstance that always surrounded the games. We tailgated in our orange best, we were in the stadium ready for kickoff, we sang the alma mater and cheered, and after the game, we gathered at the Paw down on the field (I don't do that any more, since the great fibula break of 2016, but I'm there in spirit). There were many seasons when Clemson finished somewhere around 6-6 or 7-5, and we were all content. "Next season!" became our battle cry, and we meant it. I suppose that in my mind, a national title was perpetually just around the corner. Hope among the Clemson faithful has always sprung eternal.

And then there was this day last year. My beloved Clemson Tigers were (as always) the underdogs playing Alabama's Crimson Tide in the College Football National Championship. We had been in this same spot a year before and suffered a heartbreaking loss. I couldn't be there because of that aforementioned broken ankle, but I sent a Flat Susie doll with a friend and lived vicariously, and what an adventure that little doll had! I watched from my couch as pictures rolled in of Flat Susie with Peyton Manning, quarterback Deshaun Watson's mother, Deann, the Clemson cheerleaders and band, even Kirk Herbstreit from ESPN. If you haven't read about Flat Susie's trip to the National Championship game, or you just want to revisit all the fun she had, her story is here.

I'm sure I don't need to remind you how that game ended, but for the sake of strolling down glorious memory lane, I will: in the final seconds of the fourth quarter (while all our hearts were stopped), Watson threw a 2-yard touchdown pass, caught by Hunter Renfrow, to win the game. That's right: WIN. THE. GAME. Clemson Tigers win!

Confetti fell as the players embraced. Grown men wept with emotion. 310-pound linemen dropped into splits out of pure jubilation. We were all collectively shocked, awed, ecstatic. David had beaten Goliath, and a 35-year drought since Clemson's last national championship win was over. I hope I never forget that feeling.

I'm not sure I ever fell asleep that night, but rather laid in bed with a smile on my face as I processed what had just happened. I never strayed from my television the entire next day, listening to recaps of that amazing game, watching that final play again and again and pinching myself. I got goosebumps as I saw the miles and miles of what we know as Clemson family, lining the roads of the town to welcome the champs home after their hard-fought victory. Midweek, I wore a Clemson shirt to buy groceries and had total strangers stop to congratulate me on the Tiger victory. I've never had a better shopping experience in my life!

We went to Clemson that following weekend for the celebration and parade. I can't adequately describe the energy flowing through tiny downtown Clemson that Friday evening, as throngs of fans waited in queue lines to buy championship merchandise. If joy has a radio frequency, that was what was in the airwaves that particular weekend. The long wait was over, there was no need for our "next season!" battle cry: this was our season. Finally! I bought two shirts, a banner for our tailgate, a koozie or three, and a magnet for the car. I stood in the overcast dreariness the next day and watched that parade until my face hurt from smiling.

What a year it's been as the national champs. Our guys went to the White House and presented our President with a Clemson jersey. There have been wondeful anecdotes (like the team coming to the aid of a car crash victim during practice), and plenty of humorous moments (such as Dexter Lawrence's desire to "get some of them doughnuts" --meaning beignets--when he got to New Orleans for the Sugar Bowl). We are Clemson, and we know that, champions or not, we are not perfect. We stumble, we make mistakes, and because of that, we don't take our winning for granted. We learn from our blunders, and hopefully we come roaring back. What a ride!

As a girl from the South who grew up in pageants, when it's time to crown a successor, the titleholder is given her final walk: a last moment to reflect on her reign, one more time to shine, one last moment to hold that spotlight. Tonight there will be a new national titleholder, but not yet; today, this one last day, the Clemson Tigers are the national champions. I'm wearing orange in honor of the occasion, and I hope you'll take some time today to soak it all in, one last time, and remember that feeling we all had just a year ago when it all came together in a magical moment. Dabo has a saying, "The fun is in the winning," and to say winning the national championship was "fun" would be a gross understatement. Instead, as this most awesome time comes to its close, I'll refer to another saying we have among the Clemson faithful: "It's always a great day to be a Clemson Tiger!" Especially today.