Archives for September 2008

Contrary to what you might think – and though my regional enthusiasm might indicate otherwise – I really don’t walk around with a head-in-the-clouds, idealized notion of the South. I totally get that this part of the country, like any other part of the country, has its issues.

But still. It’s tough for me to be objective about this place. Mainly because I love it so much.

I love the people. I love the towns. I love the hospitality. I love the sense of family. Lord knows I love the food. And I love the way Southerners treasure the pieces and parts of our lives that make us different, that set us apart.

For the last forty years Southern Living has captured all the best parts of Southern life. The unique places, the colorful people, the inviting homes, the phenomenal food – you could find examples of all those things inside every single issue. And no matter where I’ve lived as an adult – Mississippi, Louisiana, Alabama – Southern Living has followed me from mailbox to mailbox, from living room to living room, from coffee table to coffee table. In so many ways, that over-sized, stapled, heavy-on-serifs magazine has been like an old friend.

A few days ago I had a great email conversation with a wonderful lady who works for Southern Living. She could not have been more understanding about last week’s post and the comments that followed. Her emails really helped me to understand that the recent changes at Southern Living are intended to be a leap forward, and she said that they feel like they have exciting things ahead. She was so nice, in fact, that I thought about renewing my subscription just to support her. I know she and her colleagues work oh-so-hard at what they do, and I’ve felt a little guilty that what I wrote may have been discouraging to them. I apologize if it was.

And the more I’ve thought about it, the more I’ve realized that at the heart of my original post is a concern about something way bigger than a magazine.

Talk to any life-long Southerner, and he or she can tell you a hundred different ways that the South is increasingly homogenized. Beloved mom and pop establishments have been replaced by chain restaurants, chain bookstores, chain gas stations and chain department stores. People stare blankly when they hear the names Eudora Welty, Willie Morris or Tennessee Williams. Teenagers in Southern suburbs sound like they could have grown up anywhere. Atlanta has an IKEA, for crying out loud.

But like The Biltmore in Asheville, Toomer’s Drugs in Auburn, Commander’s Palace in New Orleans, and so many other regional touchstones, Southern Living has, for countless Southerners, been a sweet reminder of the traditions that make our South so unique. And while you may think it’s overly sentimental for me to bemoan Southern Living‘s recent changes in binding, size, and style, it’s really not so much sentimentality as it is sort of a weary resignation to the fact that the South is also changing in ways I don’t necessarily love.

Quite frankly, I’ve just been sort of bummed that Southern Living wasn’t an exception to the rule.

For me, Southern Living used to be an invitation to slow down and take in the wonder of the South. The look was completely different from every other magazine, and somehow that was Just Right – because this place, this South, is unlike any other place. At least for now.

So you can tell me that the new binding is modern. You can tell me that the new size is appealing. You can tell me that the new layout is functional. All those things may very well be true.

But here’s the bottom line with me: I don’t want “new and improved” from a Southern benchmark like Southern Living any more than I want to have a long, in-depth conversation with Emma Kate via text message, any more than I want to make a pound cake from a mix, or any more than I want to haul out some paper plates and plastic cups for Christmas dinner.

I mean, if I wanted to, I could probably figure out a way to fry chicken in a microwave for the sake of convenience.

But that doesn’t necessarily mean that I should.

I’m sure that if you give me enough time, I’ll get used to the new look and feel of Southern Living. I’ll probably grow to love it, even. After all, I’ve gotten used to the fact that some brides now register at Target instead of their local china shop, and I’ve gotten used to the fact that wearing white year-round has become acceptable. I’ve gotten used to the fact that it’s perfectly fine to don linen straight through fall.

So yes, times change. Traditions fade.

But the old Southern Living? It was perfection, y’all.

I’ll vow and declare it for the rest of my earthly days.

And that’s all I have to say about that.

All righty, interpeeps. I was all prepared to post my SL update, but between a certain five year-old who is asserting all manner of will, a cold that apparently has no intention of leaving my chest cavity until I cough up at least one of my pesky lungs, and the non-stop coverage of Hurricane Ike, I think I’m pretty much done.

Case in point: right now it’s 5:30 in the afternoon, and I already have on my pajamas.

So I think it’s a safe bet that, in addition to dealing with The Child and The Cold, I’m gonna be flipping between CNN (their weather team is EXCELLENT, by the way) and The Weather Channel for the rest of the day. And night. And tomorrow.

Oh! And one more thing!

This afternoon I was picking up some stuff at the grocery store so we could make taco salads tonight, and I’ll have you know that the 8 ounce packages of Famous Name Brand shredded cheese were FOUR DOLLARS AND THIRTY NINE CENTS.

I nearly went on to my heavenly reward right there in front of the dairy case.

I mean, I’m pretty good at rolling with the economic punches, but once you add tax, that’s almost five dollars for two cups of shredded cheese. That seems a bit on the high side. Heaven knows that I’m a fan of cheese and all, but I’ll grate some blocks of cheddar for the rest of my earthly days before I pay that much for the privilege of using Famous Name Brand shredded cheese product.

I don’t know why this fascinates me so, but I can’t help but ask: what have you seen lately at the grocery store that caused a little sticker shock?

See y’all in the comments. I’ll be the one holding a box of tissues in one hand and a remote control in the other.

And coughing. I’ll also be doing a whole lot of coughing.

Charming as ever, I am.

So, a few things:

1) I have some thoughts about our Southern Living discussion that I’ll post sometime tomorrow. I had NO. IDEA. that so many people would feel the same way I do. And I actually had a very lovely email exchange with someone who works at SL, and she was so gracious about everything that it sort of made me want to subscribe again just to support her and her colleagues. But I’ll tell you about all of that later.

2) If y’all get a chance, go visit Kelli and offer her some sweet encouragement. You can read all about her situation on her blog.

3) Podcast. Yes. We have recorded one. But I have not edited it. That’s on my list for tomorrow. We recorded it about a week and a half ago, so the news may be a little, well, old, but we’ll just pretend that it’s all current and topical and fun. M’kay?

In the meantime, enjoy this clip of Travis and some of his friends recording the choir parts for one of the songs on his Christmas CD. The husband and I were in Nashville the weekend they did this, and we were BLOWN AWAY by their talent.

What must it be like to produce beautiful melodious sounds when you sing? I have no experience with this. I do, however, have a great deal of experience producing unappealing monotone sounds.

And yet surprisingly, no one has ever offered me a recording contract.

4) Praying for all of you in Ike’s path. Be safe.

5) That’s it. Going to bed. Hasta luego, internets.

Now typically I don’t like to court controversy on my blog. I try not to push buttons. I like to keep it happy, light, upbeat – lo, even devil-may-care-ish – around here.

But every once in awhile, we have to tackle some tough topics. There’s just no avoiding it.

Which is why I need to confess something to you.

[sighing deeply]

A few months ago, after seeing the redesign of Southern Living magazine – a redesign that can only be described as displeasing and disconcerting and UNNECESSARY – I decided that I would not renew my subscription.

[sighing deeply]

Yes. Yes I did. Y’all may need to gather around me for a season of prayer.

And while I certainly realize that deciding not to renew a subscription because I no longer care for the look and feel of a magazine pretty much smacks of pure, unadulterated crazy, I just need to emphasize that THEY CHANGED THEIR PAPER AND THEIR BINDING, Y’ALL.*

Also: I LOVED THEIR PAPER AND THEIR BINDING.

In fact, I considered the old Southern Living as part of my heritage as a Southern girl. Those glossy covers looked great on my coffee table; the old pages were oh-so-durable if you needed to tear out a recipe or a decorating idea.

But then? SL WENT AND RURNT IT ALL. I’m telling you: that new thin paper – coupled with the new fonts and new layout for recipes – basically makes me want to claw all the skin off of my body with some very dull metal talons.

And so, when I realized that the changes were permanent, when I realized that my favorite magazine of all time was essentially something that looked like Generic Periodical Product (seriously. go to a bookstore. look at the magazine display. see if SL stands out from the crowd anymore.), I decided not to renew.

I mean, sometimes a girl just has to take a stand on principle.

(You might say that I had a somewhat strong reaction to the Southern Living redesign.)

(Clearly I am quite the social activist. Next thing you know I’ll be leading some sort of protest at the SL headquarters.)

And please don’t try to tell me that the new design is more environmentally-friendly. That’s just not possible – because quite frankly I don’t know a Southern woman in her right mind who has EVER thrown away an issue of the old Southern Living. In fact, I could go to Martha’s house right this second and find the July 1980 issue, and then Martha would tell me how she tried that blueberry cobbler recipe but not that tomato tart recipe, because after all there was a recipe in the November 1977 issue for a different tomato tart that is FABULOUS, JUST FABULOUS.

So all that to say: landfills are overflowing with many things, but old issues of Southern Living are not among them.

A few days ago I was at a little news stand in the airport, looking for something to read on a flight, and in a fit of forgiveness and mercy I decided to give Southern Living another chance. I shelled out the five dollars and some-odd cents for a copy of the September issue, and after reading it from cover to cover, I kept coming back to a single, sustaining thought: Well, that settles it. I totally stand by my initial reaction. Bring out the dull metal talons. Again.

I just don’t like it, y’all. It used to be such a treat to get the latest issue in the mail, but now Southern Living feels like something I might flip through in a doctor’s waiting room if I was hard-pressed for reading material.

And this saddens me. In ways you cannot even imagine.

Now I realize that in the grand scheme of things this is no big deal. I realize that my SL disappointment errs waaaaaay on the side of trivial. But nonetheless, I’m curious: since a lot of the readers here are Southern, I’d love to know what YOU think about Southern Living in its present state.

New and improved? Or not?

(By the way, if you haven’t even noticed that SL has been redesigned, this discussion may be a little too OCD for you.)

(A thousand apologies.)

(Thank you for being so patient with my crazy.)

(Now do have a lovely day.)

* – Edited to add: I stand corrected about the paper. Oh yes I do. It feels flimsier because the new pages are wider. But the paper is the same.

…we’ve got us a little caption contest goin’ on.