Unlike in the North, where the God-haters are trying to take the "Christ" out of "Christmas", there is nothing secular about a redneck holiday. It is not unusual to see an inflatable nativity right there on the lawn between the petunias and the wire reindeer, if there are reindeer at all. And any good conservative would NEVER in their right mind shorten "Christmas" to "XMas". What would the neighbors think if they knew that the decor boxes were labeled "XMas"? And then there's the jolly man in the red suit. I remember a Sunday school lesson from back in the day, in which the teacher informed a group of horrified third graders that St. Nick was not real, and if you rearranged the letters in "Santa", it spells "Satan". They don't joke around about their Jesus.
But if there's a holiday tradition more sacred than the green bean casserole, it's gift-getting. Even the most conservative conservative is not likely to give up a hokey present exchange, white elephant gifts, or Secret Santa, for their Little Lord Jesus principles. Therefore, it can get pretty intense around the 23rd (which is also Festivus, by the way) and Black Friday. People are classy enough to fight over the last Wii console or TMX Elmo. After all, they have to get their children everything they need for Christmas, including life lessons on how to behave in public.
Christmas meals in the red states are exactly like holiday meals elsewhere, just fried. Fried turkey, fried chicken, fried okra, fried sweet potatoes, fried cranberry sauce (okay, maybe not that last one), it's all here and artery-clogging. The process goes as follows: several hours of preparation, followed by one very long prayer to commence the face-stuffing. Then, you eat until you can't eat any more, leave the table for 30 minutes to an hour of television, and then return to the table once you feel like your gastrointestinal system can sustain it. After all that tryptophan, it's important to get some rest to let the meal settle on your thighs. Then once everyone finishes their siesta, it's time to convene again and bitch about how much you've eaten. It's a sacred ritual.
All in all, there's a lot to complain about when it comes to Southern Christmases. But I must admit, no one gets in the holiday spirit quite like them, good or bad. And that's the way we get down...
In A Hick Town.
