As we get closer to our move to south Louisiana, I’m starting to get all conflicted and sorry to be leaving good Pennsylvania friends behind. So it was nice to talk to my father on the phone just now, and be reminded how much I love Southern speech. We were talking about raw oysters.
“I wish you’d have been here to have lunch with me,” he said. “David Morgan brought me a mess of raw oysters from Chalmette.”
“I got to say that the Yankees have ruined me for oysters,” I replied. “I like Yankee oysters better than Gulf oysters. They’re a lot sharper and brinier up here. But I don’t get them too often because they’re so expensive.”
“Yeah? What you got to give for ’em up there?”
“Usually about two dollars per oyster.”
“Jesus Christ from Vicksburg!”