By David Malcolm Rose
When I moved to Arkansas, well over 50 years ago, my knowledge of the South was primarily derived from watching the Andy Griffith show. There were some differences between the show and reality, but for me, the transition was fairly easy. At that time, Southern culture was, even in urban areas, rural culture, and I was brought up country. Once clearing the language barrier, it was relatively smooth sailing.
It delighted me to find that the South has better food. I’d like to say a few words here in praise of cholesterol and high blood pressure, both of which, I believe, have gotten a bad rap. Sure, if you eat a lot of chili dogs and fried chicken*, you stand a good chance of dying from a heart attack, but you could also eat bean sprouts and die from listeria. It all depends on what you want on your tombstone. I want pepperoni on mine.
I am not arguing the fact that a land where macaroni and cheese is considered a vegetable and all actual vegetables are cooked nearly to death with fatback is going to take a few years off your life. But those aren’t going to be the years often referred to as your wasted youth. The years you will be losing are the ones at the end, when you can’t drive at night, put on your pants without leaning on the dresser, or sleep through the night without having to get up several times to pee.
When you think about it, heart attack is a pretty good way to go. So much better than one of those wasting diseases where you shrivel up until you look like a bog mummy. *It is my belief that people in the North should not be allowed to fry chicken. They just don’t have the genetic makeup to do it properly.
David Rose, of Hot Springs, is an author and artist.
{More of David’s musings can be found at thespringsmagazine.com/category/arts/david-rose/.}
