Ricochet is the best place on the internet to discuss the issues of the day, either through commenting on posts or writing your own for our active and dynamic community in a fully moderated environment. In addition, the Ricochet Audio Network offers over 50 original podcasts with new episodes released every day.
A Southern (Comfort) Christmas and Other Quirky Stories
So, my husband was given a gift basket and a very nice cash bonus by his boss this week. When he brought home the basket, I said “Boy! This is a real Southern Christmas basket!” His boss and my husband left one company and went out on their own almost three years ago and it has been a great success, well over a million dollars already and no corporate stress.
His boss is a no-nonsense, conservative young Southerner who loves his family and the benefits of working hard. In the basket were some hand-painted salt dough ornaments from his small children, local honey, handmade soap, various homemade sugary treats, a bottle of top-shelf Kentucky bourbon and a mason jar with some hooch – white lightning! Christmas in the South!
I recalled when we took up residence in my husband’s grandmother’s small, tin-roof cottage one year, located on a mountainside in northwest Georgia. We had just left Boston and I couldn’t get used to the hustle that Atlanta had become. I missed the quiet of a New England town. The little cottage, with a red smokehouse, needed some TLC – the water pump didn’t work, there was a rumor of snakes that had gotten into the damn oven, (I think my father-in-law made that up to get a rise out of me) and I was up for the challenge.
The plumber showed up in an old pickup truck and got the water running. He noted from my northern accent, saying, “You ain’t no Georgia peach.” My husband’s sinuses were acting up, and he said he had just the thing. He pulled out a mason jar of clear liquid from his pickup truck and told him to take a swig. It cleared his sinuses, his throat and re-scrambled his brain cells. No cold, allergies, or virus dare compete.
Compare that with one Christmas where I was working at a very prominent New England college that shall remain unnamed. My boss (I had three) invited my husband and me over for a Christmas Eve drink with his family. I thought, ok, bonus! I was the only one from the office invited to his home. This college was going through a, shall I say, “elimination” of senior people, just as they were reaching their best salary potential, benefits, and career success. There were “meetings,” where these talented people were being reviewed for their performance and found “wanting,” then were suddenly no longer needed. It was a trend that could hardly go unnoticed. Obviously, they were trying to save money by hiring younger people whose salary and benefits started small – a dirty stunt.
So Joe, who I soon came to find out was on the dirty list, gave me a gift since I was his administrative assistant. Are you ready? He gave me an ornament shaped like a typewriter. I faked surprise and oohed and gushed – what a clever gift, Joe! Not long after, I became the Fawn Hall of the office. For those too young to know about Fawn Hall, she was personal secretary to Col. Oliver North, serving with President Ronald Reagan during the Iran-Contra scandal, and was stuffing documents down her bra and smuggling them out, as Oliver North built his defense.
The college was compiling fake dirt to can Joe, after serving over 20 years as Dean. He was in a new fundraising role and after only one year, they “found fault with his performance,” so he was building his case behind the scenes. I was the accomplice. Expensive lawyers got involved. I typed, proofed, printed, and smuggled up a storm of documentation that ultimately won a respectable settlement and dignified departure.
Back to the basket. So my husband told me about a pair of slouchy subcontractors who delivered a poor work performance on an important job. This dude wore his baseball cap on backward and insisted on payment, then started mouthing off threats. My husband’s boss took the personal threats all in stride. He paid him, asked for his driver’s license, took his picture and the license with his phone and calmly handed it back. He then said, “If you ever come near my family or set foot on my property, I’ll shoot your ass, understand?” No further issues with said party after that – problem solved. Sometimes the John Wayne philosophy works well – at least in the South. I got an email some 20 years later from my old boss Joe, thanking me for my administrative espionage.
I’ll take the cash bonus, the Southern gift basket, and homegrown justice any day.
Published in General
Well… in that case… Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
I really admire parents who do this and other things like cooking with their kids.
I take one look at mine and start crying about the mess before I even decide to do it.
It isn’t that I’m a neat freak, it’s just that I have so much other stuff to clean already…
What a fun story, and very well told!
I hear you but they would remember those memories – and learn to love cooking and baking – and cleaning up!
On my Internet route that I take every day is the King Arthur Flour blog. I came across this wonderful post today, and I thought of you, Front Seat Cat.
@juliesnapp might also like that link.
Fantastic – I’m going to make hoecakes over Christmas holiday! Thanks Marci
I do, in fact, have a recipe for hoecakes. :) They’re delicious! I usually don’t do grits with mine, but we do savory ones with jalapenos, corn, and cheese.
Well we did make these last night:
Those are beautiful. I dabble in cookie and cake decorating, and it’s hard to get a true rich green like that. I’m impressed. :)
Edit: Never mind. I just clicked the link. I see how it’s done. Really beautiful. Kids would love these.
Are those green colored cornflake candies, Stina?
Do you make them with flour or grits? I can’t do wheat so I am happy to use grits which I have. Can I have the recipe?
Ah, the perfect solution! We would always make it into a wreath and tho pretty, it usually turned into a mess as people would pick at it to eat it. No more wreaths…
FSC – Loved the story. Makes reading R so enjoyable – so much diversity. Thanks for sharing.
We make them with flour, but apparently Mom just uses Paula Dean’s recipe. We don’t have self rising cornmeal and flour, so just add a little baking powder and salt. We have been using homemade cornmeal for the last couple years, but barring that, definitely use Aunt Jemima if you can find it. It’s the best cornmeal I’ve ever used.