Explaining the myriad delights of a football Saturday in the South to anyone who has not enjoyed them may be impossible – like trying to describe the ocean to a blind man.

If there is such a things as "race", there is only the Human one.

Magic of Southern expressions? Similes and metaphorical allusions. They are the yellow highlighter of conversation.

In the South, history clings to you like a wet blanket. Outside your door the past awaits in Indian mounds, plantation ruins, heaving sidewalks and homestead graveyards; each slowly reclaimed by the kudzu of time.