The South will rise again or Southern by the grace of God.

Saturday I went and saw the Avett brothers play. They were great. It was my 5th time seeing them live but my first on the west coast. About two weeks before I moved from MB to Cali I had the opportunity to see the Avetts two nights in a row at the House of Blues there. When I thought back to that time and this most recent time something stuck out to me. If you are unfamiliar with their music you need to familiarize yourself. But, for the sake of this blog I will do a quick breakdown.

They are an alternative folk band. I doubt that makes any sense to anyone but let me see if I can help. Imagine Bob Dylan exploring his punk rock roots. Anyway they are from the south, specifically North Carolina. Now, what was interesting was seeing them under completely different circumstances. Seeing a band from the south on the west coast was a little odd. A fish out of water kind of situation. Think back to when you were in school, maybe fifth grade and seeing your teacher outside of class. Maybe, Wal-mart or the Mall. It's like your small world is falling apart. Things are combining that should never combine, i.e. your parents ad your teacher interacting on the same aisle your Mac and Cheese is on. It's just bizarre. It gives you a feeling that you enjoy but don't want to duplicate.


I felt the same way seeing these guys on the west coast. Hearing them sing about land marks like I-95 reminded of my southern roots. Flannery O'Connor speaks about the distinctness of the south and how southern literature may be one of the few styles that have a distinct feeling of place. It is so different than every where else in the country.

I never thought I would say this, but, I am a southerner. So many things I fought against growing up some how snuck up on me. I like country music, some of my favorite authors are classified as Southern Literature. I've never really cared for sweet tea but I could go for some Chicken and grits. That cliche' old state rings true here; "You can take the boy out of the south but not the south out of the boy".

Moving to California has been a weird transition. Simply because I feel like I haven't transitioned. I feel like I have always lived here. For about an hour once I was alone in this state I contemplated the possibility that somehow I was born here or spent some time here but was brutally ripped away and forced to grow up on the other side of the country. But, the craziest thing that came over me that evening was an overwhelming sense of Southern Pride. All of a sudden I began to judge everyone in the audience singing certain lines that spoke to something on the other side of this country.

It's odd how it takes a drive across the country to a new place and time zone to realize that a major part of who you are is behind you.