In the December Issue of Country Roads:Weekly Cajun Dances at the American Legion Hall:
A Cajun accent didn’t sound anything like the southern accents I’d heard on The Dukes of Hazzard, and my first crawfish boil was a far cry from whatever images I had gotten of southern cooking. Ever since then, I’ve taken pride in being a transplanted Southerner. It’s given me some perspective on what other parts of the country are like, and why what we have here is unusual and worth holding onto. The problem is—a culture has to be a living thing to survive. If the new blood doesn’t embrace the culture, take on its habits and peculiarities, a culture gets marginalized into extinction. Read more...
yeah, same with the square dancing back home. and actually, the polka-ing, too, I just read in the nyt.
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