You are cordially invited to the imaginary RSM clubhouse, where the leaves are always golden, the breezes cool, your college is always winning on the gridiron, and the air smells continuously of a veritable feast. We invite you to share with the RSM world what you will be bringing to the table.Read more
This week, Southern Living’s August issue hits newsstands with special coverage of the aftermath of April’s tornadoes that tore through the heart of the South.Read more
Twanglish Lessons is your bi-weekly guide to mastering the finer points of the official Southern language. Remember, it’s not English; it’s Twanglish.
Today’s Twanglish Lesson highlights a noticeable generation gap among Southerners. In fact, no one over 50 in the South has ever eaten lunch a day in their life…Read more
Yesterday, we made our case for why F-bombs are for Yankees and laid down some cussing rules in the process. Today, Billy Ivey completely ignores that advice.
“I started trying to hang the shelf at around 3PM. One shelf. One, single utility closet shelf. Six feet long. 16 inches deep.”Read more
Yesterday, we shared with you the best of our musings about Southern life, family and our own histories. Today, we go the other way. Southern storytelling has a long history of humor, peppered with hyperbole, wit and sarcasm, sweetened with a heaping spoonful of gentility. Like good Southern cooking, it’s complex – savory and sweet.Read more
It’s Best Of Week here on RSM. Next up is a collection of our best personal essays, memoirs and recollectin’. We Southerners love to tell stories. And our best stories are the ones that hit closest to home, the ones that show a healthy mix of wry humor and introspection.Read more
Whether you’re a bible thumper, a holy roller or one of the frozen chosen; whether you’re an atheist, agnostic or otherwise unaffiliated, chances are you have, at some point in your life, participated in an Easter egg hunt.
But chances are, you’ve never done it the way the Franklins do it…Read more
I’m getting fat. Not like obese or disgusting-big. More like “doughy.” A little flabby and plump. I just look lazy, I think. You know, I used to look active, even when I wasn’t. Now? Not so much. Not that a Real Southern Man should worry about such things. I’m 38 years old, and I look […]Read more