There are some things that all Georgians should know.
Coca Cola is ours, and unless you've had one in a green six-and-a-half ounce bottle, with a slight crust of ice on top, you don't know what the real thing is. And you might
want to try pouring about half a pack of salted peanuts into one sometime.
If it weren't for a Georgian-Crawford Long of Jefferson---open-heart surgery would
hurt like hell.
True Georgians say "ma'am and sir" and call their mothers "mama" and their fathers
'daddy". They know that y'all is perfectly good English and never means just one
person. "Fixin to" is perfectly acceptable, too. And if y'all don't like the way we
talk, Delta (which is also ours) is ready when you are.
Long before the Olympics brought the world's greatest athletes to Atlanta, we gave
the world Ty Cobb, Jackie Robinson, Walt Frazier, Luke Appling, Johnny Mize, Fran
Tarkenton, Bobby Jones, Wyomia Tyus, and Herschel Walker.
If you don't know who these people are, you ought to find out before you go to bed
tonight.
Long after the Atlanta Olympics have faded from memory, the greatest tournament
in golf will still be played in Augusta every April, with or without Jessie Jackson's
and Martha Burke's approval, and on autumn Saturdays,
90,000 or so Red-and-Black faithful will gather in Athens for a prayer meeting be-
tween the hedges.
No matter how many times the Braves play in the World Series, nothing will match
excitement of that first one.
The Stone Mountain carving is lots bigger than the one on Mt. Rushmore and the
people etched into the side of Stone Mountain deserve the honor. It wasn't just
about slavery.
Atlanta was called "the city too busy to hate," back in the sixties, because it really
was, and we should be proud of that fact.
In 1864 Sherman burned Atlanta and much of Georgia in his March to the sea.
Crack cocaine is bringing more harm to Atlanta than Sherman ever dreamed of.
We don't grow the most peaches, but we still deserve to be called the "Peach
State" because ours are the sweetest. That includes the Georgia peaches that
don't grow on trees. We do produce the most peanuts, pecans, and poultry.
Elvis wasn't ours, but Otis Redding, James Brown, the Allman Brothers, Johnny
Mercer, Joe South , Ray Charles, Bill Anderson, Brenda Lee, Trisha Yearwood and
Alan Jackson are. So are Sidney Lanier, Joel Chandler Harris, Margaret Mitchell
and Alice Walker. And I still miss Lewis Grizzard every day. Julia Roberts may be
Georgia's prettiest movie star, but Holly Hunter is the most talented.
Dakota Fanning may one day surpass them both.
FDR adopted us. His "Little White House" in Warm Springs is exactly as it was the
day he died there, near the end of World War II. Every Georgian needs to visit Warm
Springs. Roosevelt's New Deal put Georgians to work and turned an entire generation
of her people into "yellow Dog" Democrats.
Georgia once had three governors at the same time. Lester Maddox wasn't one of
them, but was elected by the General Assembly without getting a majority of the
popular vote. He did a good job too, God rest his soul. Zell Miller was the best governor
I never voted for.
Gone With the Wind belongs to us. We own it. Not only is it by one of our own and is
about us, but it's also one of the great novels of all time and an absolute film classic
and we shouldn't apologize for liking it.
WSB means "Welcome South Brother." She ain't what she used to be, but she's not
as bad as the AJC has become.
The Brown Thrasher, the Cherokee Rose, and the Live Oak are our symbols. Proud,
decent, honest people are our heritage. None are as plentiful as they once were,
but none are on the endangered list, either.
The best barbecue in the world is served at Old Hickory House in Tucker, but Open
Air in Jackson ain't far behind. The best seafood is at Williams in Savannah and the
best catfish is at Henderson's in Covington. The best sausage is at Stripling's in Crisp
County. The best fried chicken in the world is served at my mama's house. Grits is
groceries and sugar doesn't belong in cornbread. God intended for iced tea to be
served sweet.
And lastly, Georgia ain't exactly heaven-but it will do until I get there.