For a woman, the main thing you must learn in order to dance tango is how to follow the lead of your partner. This, as I’ve commented before on this blog, is harder than it sounds. Following is a discipline: you need to be attentive, making your energy available for whatever is indicated by your partner’s movements. You can’t afford to get distracted, or give in to the temptation to anticipate, assuming that you know what your partner is going to do, and going ahead with a figure before he has started it. “Wait for me,” is a phrase often spoken, with some urgency and insistence, by men to women on the tango dance-floor – meaning, “wait for my lead.”
This doesn’t mean, “become completely passive and allow me to dominate you” (although some people seem to think it does, and are no fun to dance with, as a result). This kind of waiting is active and energized (and energizing). It also allows two-way communication – if you are in tune, which most importantly means in time, with your partner’s lead, this creates a rapport and sense of trust within which the follower can bring her own style or interpretation into the dance. The leader establishes the framework of steps, but within this, the follower, who doesn’t need to think about what figure to embark upon next, is freer to feel and express the subtleties of the music, and a good leader will pick up on this, “listening” and responding to his partner as well as leading her.
I’ve observed a similar dynamic when chanting Buddhist suttas. Chanting often makes me think of dancing, since in this situation too, I am usually a follower, and must wait for the monk's lead, within which it is possible to improvise harmonies – sometimes they just seem to arise of their own accord. The sense of communication between leader and follower, and the pleasure when this is sustained and vibrant, for me is very much the same as that of dancing tango. This might seem a provocative comparison, since obviously Buddhist monks don’t dance – certainly not tango! But actually, it’s more a reflection of how I experience tango – as something that at its best is very close to meditation.
In more conventional forms of meditation, the dance is between the breath (or other leader of meditation) and awareness, or the mind. The breath sets the rhythm, the timing of the dance, and the mind must resist the temptation to take over and start trying to change the pace, or breaking out into other dances altogether. Habitually, the mind (well, my mind, at least) wants to lead – it’s not easy for it to relax and focus enough to follow, let alone get to the point where it might be capable of contributing appropriate adornments or harmonies.
In Argentina, a man who wants to learn to tango traditionally begins with the woman’s part – he must learn to follow before he can learn how to lead. This seems to me a good principle for leadership more generally, and in particular, for the leadership of that would-be inner dictator, the mind. Is a mind that cannot settle long enough to follow the breath likely to come up with any ideas worth following in turn?
The trip to Andersonville Civil War Prison was three and a half hours long - one way. It was a good trip. We took in the beautiful Georgia back road scenery in all it’s glory. I started to whine about the length of the trip. It got me thinking about trips like this back in the civil war era and how they may have fared with only a horse or a long march on foot to complete the trip.
So.....here I am using my Android navigation tool........
..... and getting ticked off that the navigation lady had it wrong on a portion of the trip because of a rebuilt road. That little triangle marker denoting our location was going off the little android map in these parts and the nice English sounding lady was wanting us to make a u-turn. "No!, you are wrong", I barked at her. We prevailed and soon she ...errr...we were back on track.
I wonder how the war would have turned out if either side had one of these bad boys?
I felt better. I didn’t whine anymore.I also started to think about the topography of this area and how Andersonville seemed to be tucked in the middle of nowhere......how DID they find these places back in the day? I guess it was the right place for an open prison.
We wanted to be sure we went to Andersonville town proper, the prison site and the cemetery. We did see all three.
The Civil War Town of Andersonville was small, most places were closed because of the Easter holiday. . I did take time to act like a tourist and get a picture of me acting like a tourist,
I felt kind of bad taking this photo (My wife actually took it) , considering the location. But decided to do it anyway as I probably will never be back.
What I found most interesting in the town was a monument dedicated to Henry Wirz the prison commandant in 1864.
The Georgia Division and the United Daughters of the Confederacy proposed a resolution at its 1905 convention to erect a monument in memory of Henry Wirz. The U.D.C. prevailed in this battle and the monument was erected at the prison site in Andersonville on May 12, 1908.
The monument states:
The Front of the Monument
"In memory of Captain Henry Wirz, C.S.A. Born Zurich, Switzerland, 1822. Sentenced to death and executed at Washington, D.C., Nov. 10, 1865.
To rescue his name from the stigma attached to it by embittered prejudice, this shaft is erected by the Georgia Division, United Daughters of the Confederacy."
On the Second Side
"Discharging his duty with such humanity as the harsh circumstances of the times, and the policy of the foe permitted, Captain Wirz became at last the victim of a misdirected popular clamor.
He was arrested in time of peace, while under protection of a parole, tried by a military commission of a service to which he did not belong and condemned to ignominious death on charges of excessive cruelty to Federal prisoners. He indignantly spurned a pardon, proffered on condition that he would incriminate President Davis and thus exonerate himself from charges of which both were..."
Wirz was hanged on November 10, 1865, in Washington, D.C., the only Confederate officer executed as a war criminal. Scapegoat or Murderer ?? That is still being discussed today.
The prison:
A Union soldier describing his entry into the prison camp -
"As we entered the place, a spectacle met our eyes that almost froze our blood with horror, and made our hearts fail within us. Before us were forms that had once been active and erect;—stalwart men, now nothing but mere walking skeletons, covered with filth and vermin. Many of our men, in the heat and intensity of their feeling, exclaimed with earnestness. "Can this be hell?" "God protect us!" and all thought that He alone could bring them out alive from so terrible a place. In the center of the whole was a swamp, occupying about three or four acres of the narrowed limits, and a part of this marshy place had been used by the prisoners as a sink, and excrement covered the ground, the scent arising from which was suffocating. The ground allotted to our ninety was near the edge of this plague-spot, and how we were to live through the warm summer weather in the midst of such fearful surroundings, was more than we cared to think of just then."
In all, 12,913 of the approximately 45,000 Union prisoners died here because of starvation, malnutrition, diarrhea, and disease. The prisoners were not going to see any more action in this condition- if that was the reason for the mistreatment. Was it intentional mistreatment? You have to remember that the war was coming to a close and the south could hardly feed their own troops and the prisoner exchange that was a good thing for both sides had stopped. At the beginning of the Civil War, prisoners of war were exchanged right on the battlefield.
This is the great debate today amongst some civil war scholars about the reasons behind the Andersonville mistreatment . No doubt that the prisoners were laking in many things to keep them healthy and alive. It was terrible conditions in a terrible place. I don't pretend to even go about to judge such things, Who am I? The war was complicated on many fronts.
There are many "venues" of the war throughout these United States that hold gruesome tales on both sides. I don't have enough knowledge on the subject to make up my own mind as to what happened and why. Maybe someday when I do, I will let my thoughts be known.
My wife may have said it best when she stated that she thought that the prison administration had no clue what to do with this many prisoners.
The first thing that struck me where the monuments that were erected by the states of the captive union soldiers, here is one from Massachusetts.......
........Many states were represented. The area today is marked by white poles signifying the boundaries of the prison
Water or lack of water was the major problem. A branch of Sweetwater Creek, called Stockade Branch, flowed through the prison yard and was the only source of water for most of the prison. It was used for everything, so you can only imagine. Dysentery, scurvy, malaria, and exposure were rampant.
It is said that a deafening noise like thunder or an earthquake shook the earth around the prison one day, and a stream of water burst forth from the torn ground. They considered this phenomenon a providential act of God and so the stream of water was called Providence Spring.
There is a stone house that was erected at the site in 1901,
Inscription is on the wall states: "The Prisoners' cry of thirst rang up to Heaven; God heard, and with His thunder cleft the earth and poured his sweet water came rushing here." On another side of this house is the inscription: "God smote the hillside and gave them drink, August 16, 1864.
The Cemetery:
Nothing I say can add anything to what the rows and rows of headstones are telling us..........
I did what most do on hallowed grounds such as these. I was quiet and respectful and reflected on their lives and their respect for country. May they all rest in peace.
I often wonder what these Civil war combatants and POW's would think if they could see the USA today. Would they be pleased with the current status and growth of our country? Would they feel that their suffering was in vain or they died for a deeper good purpose. I happen to think that everything happens for the greater good, Spending time at a palace like Andersonville can rock your foundations and beliefs.
I’ve just done a week-long meditation retreat at the Buddhist Vihara in Katoomba, a very beautiful small monastery nestled in bush, overlooking the Jamison valley. The retreat was led by Venerable Kovida, the Sri Lankan abbot of the monastery and at present the only monk living there, assisted by a lay woman, Louise. It struck me as quite different to other retreats I’ve done, mainly because it took place in a monastery rather than a retreat centre or other secular setting, and because the rhythm of monastic life provided the structure of the retreat.
The program of meditation was quite continuous, but fairly gentle compared with many retreats. The day started with a 45 minute sit at 6am, followed by breakfast, then chanting and meditation from 8-9am, a service which takes place every morning at the monastery, whether there’s a retreat on or not. After that the retreatants continued mediting until 10.45, alternating between sitting and walking, usually in periods of half an hour each. Then there was a half hour work period, followed by lunch which was offered by Sri Lankan families who came each day for this purpose, showing heart-warming generosity and devotion. They served each of us in the same way they served Venerable Kovida. As required by monastic discipline, lunch was finished by 12pm (which given the abundance of food offered to us meant that for a short period of time we had to behave like rapid and continuous eating machines, an interesting capacity to master). After an hour to rest and digest, the program continued at 1pm either with meditation or, on every second day, an hour of group discussion when we could ask questions or report on our practice. Sitting and walking meditation then continued until 4.45pm, followed by a break when we could eat or drink something if needed. From 6-7pm there was the evening chanting and meditation service, which concluded the daily program.
There were no dhamma talks, except for one by American nun Pema Chodron that we listened to during one of the group discussion hours – and this only happened because I’d brought the cd to return to someone, and Louise asked if we could listen to it. There were also no private interviews. The retreat was conducted in ‘noble silence’ meaning no talking or communicating except during the discussion hours, or if required for some practical purpose.
I have to admit I broke noble silence once, on the third night. I’d woken up early (at 3.20am) and decided I should go back to sleep. I did a little relaxation exercise and was just drifting off, half dreaming, when I felt a sharp sensation in my left ear, just above the lobe. I was wearing a beanie so that my ears and face were the only part of me exposed to the cold night air. I instinctively shook my head, and wondered meditatively what the cause of this sensation might be. Half a second later, a thought popped into my head, instantly followed by a feeling of fear and in a high voice I said, “what was that?” There was no one else in the room to answer me, but my mute hypothesis was soon confirmed by the sound of little feet scurrying around under the bed – the delay had been caused by the fact that I was on the top bunk, and it took the rodent (probably a small rat) a few seconds to reach the floor. At that stage I felt I was really getting a proper taste of monastic life. Not only had I been nibbled by a rat during the early hours of the morning (a friend later suggested that it was testing to see if I was alive), but I had managed quite clearly to observe the chain of reactions: contact with night-time visitor, feeling of sharpness, instinctive physical reaction of movement, calm mental investigation, conceptual thought, PANIC leading to outburst of fairly nonsensical and useless speech. It was interesting to see how my fear didn’t arise from contact with the rat itself, but rather from the thought ‘rat?’ I do have – or have had – quite a strongly entrenched fear of rodents. But now that I’ve had one nibble my ear, funnily enough, I don’t feel so afraid of them, maybe because I now realise that I’m actually only afraid of the idea of rats – although admittedly this has yet to be tested by any further close encounters.
Anyway, back to the more general aspects of the retreat. The fact that the program was so simple, and included very little teaching or talking, meant that I had a good chance to observe what my mind does when pretty much left to itself. It wasn’t all pleasant – I spent a lot of time ‘getting in touch,’ as they say, with obsessive and confused habitual states of my mind. It was quite a humbling experience. At the time, I started to have doubts about what I was doing, whether I was actually driving myself mad rather than doing anything that could possibly lead towards enlightenment. But having survived and come out the other side, I feel that I gained more insight into my own emotional processes than I have on any other retreat. I’ve certainly experienced strong emotion on retreats before, but typically, I’ve also encountered plenty of things to help distract me – or rather, plenty of words to keep me occupied and entertained. While I usually find dhamma talks stimulating, and private interviews can be anything from comforting and helpful to (more rarely) infuriating, they can all operate, for someone like myself, who enjoys playing around with concepts and words, as opportunities to avoid anything too uncomfortable in the intimacy of my own experience, and to reassure myself that my mind is basically clear, sharp and on top of things (a bit like the rat J).
Having been on a lot of meditation retreats, I realise that my ego has worked out how to use them almost as a form of entertainment, a kind of educational holiday. It took a real rat and the support of a whole monastic environment to shake me out of this mode.
1. First of all when you are single, you are awesome.
2. You do not need to talk about where the relationship is going.
3. You do not need to bother about how to dump someone or how not to get dumped.
4. No more fights.
5. You cry only when you laugh too hard.
6. You do not have to worry about updating every moment of your life to someone.
7. You do not need to worry about getting into same college or staying in same city.
8. You are free to flirt with anybody in daily life or at social networks.
9. You have the freedom of eyes. No body is gonna charge you for looking at someone.
10. You have the freedom of phone. No body is gonna charge you for keeping your phone busy.
11. You do not have to lie.
12. No need to get bored with a single human being. Have fun with friends, family, flirting, school & career.
13. No one will pressure you to do what you hate to do.
14. You have time to be yourself.
15. The day you become single is your independence day !
One very important thing is there are very few lucky persons to meet their Mr. or Mrs. Rights. If you think you have found yours then you should give it a shot. But don't have a boyfriend/girlfriend just to have one!
1390, from L.zona"geographical belt, celestial zone," from Gk.zone"a belt," related tozonnynai"to gird," from PIE base*yes-"to gird, girdle" (cf. Avestanyasta-"girt," Lith.juosiu"to gird,"O.C.S.po-jasu"girdle"). Originally one of the five great divisions ofthe earth's surface (torrid, temperate, frigid; separated by tropicsof Cancer and Capricorn andArcticand Antarctic circles); meaning"any discrete region" is first recorded 1822.Zonedefensein teamsports is recorded from 1927.Zoning"land-use planning" isrecorded from 1912.Zoned(adj.) in drug-use sense is attested1960s, fromozone, which is found high in the atmosphere; therelated verbtozoneis from 1980s.
A mental sate relating to competitive performance that depends on the mood or state of mind
Getting to my writer's zone, is a trip!
Some people would define me as always being in a mental state. .This is a good thing, although it really depends on who is saying this to me, friend or foe. I don't have many foe's, I just like using that word.
My new experiences in the South keeps me in prose. My writing problem isn’t so much writers block, it’s more of the many, many ideas floating in my head at the same time and me trying to decide which one (s) I should write about.
This, you think would be a nice problem for a writer, but it keeps me many a time from putting words to paper and out of my zone. It is probably because I am constantly searching for the best thing to write about. Never really satisfied with any potential topic. I am the type of guy that if you give me a menu with hundreds of choices, I will spend a very long time coming up with my choice for dinner. I will starve. Simple works better for me. Give me a menu with 5 choices and I am in my zone. You can also relate it to what I call the "clicker principle" I can be watching a good show on TV, but with the clicker............
...... I am sure there is always a better one on one of the other 2,654 channels. And I click to find it. My sessions with the clicker can be somewhat overstimulating and overwhelming.
I count on a variety of stimulations to get my zone of imagination going. Music, movies, biographies, trips to the store, etc…..I find that I am really In my writing zone if I am out meeting new people and places. Sometimes I can just wake up and be in a good mood and be in the zone without any stimulation. I take that back, I do really need some coffee in the morning to kick start my brain waves and motor skills.
I don’t pretend to be a good writer, as a matter of fact, I have no clue what kind of writer I am. I enjoy when I am in the zone and basically write for me, it is very soothing. That being said, If I can share some advice from someone who is constanly thinking and sometimes over thinking his ideas.
When you are in any kind of writing rut, Write! Just get a blank piece of paper or Microsoft word page and start writing something, anything. Doesn’t even have to make sense in the beginning. (Heck, look at me, I make no sense throughout!) Your true spirit will show in the writings as you keep writing. Many thoughts are unlocked only when you are writing. Let it flow, let it go, no pressure.
Or you may want to just step away from the keyboard altogether for a little while.
You can't force creativity. Creativity, like shit, just happens.
If you try and force your creativity, you will quickly find that your writing zone will more resemble.....
I have been in the writer's twighlight zone before and tried to force something out. Did I really just write about the lint in my pocket? Although I suppose a great writer can go on for hours about the size, shape and origin of the lint. Pontificate about the lints humble beginnings to gaining size and being a force to be reckoned with among the few quarters and credit card receipts that also share space in your pocket. Explaining in detail what the lint may be thinking, if lint could think at all and how the best laid plans of this lint can go bad with just a simple wash cycle. Did the lint have any fami.................. *SNAP* queue Rod Serling.
Forcing creativity is unnatural and in my humble opinion, leads to the greater problem of writers block.
Let it flow, Let it go.I think just wanting to put thoughts to paper is a great start. No pressure
Music plays a big part in my creative life. I have posted below some music that I listen to and that will stimulate my neurons and have me in the good zone quickly. As you can tell , my music tastes are just like my writing ability - all over the place.
The music is such a rush and so compliments my need for adrenalin. I need to write with adrenalin.
If you are like me, when I am out of my writing zone I am out, and if I am not careful I can spend much time trying to get back in. So what to do? convince yourself to take a break from writing, Call your brains bluff and shut down. When your brain sees that you want to take a break, It will begin to flood you with many ideas..I seem to get my best ideas when I really try to shut down for awhile. …
The mind truly works in mysterious ways!
Iced tea, a beat up pick-up truck , max the dog and a pen.
A change in your geographical area can set off many “zone alerts” It did for me, No comparision to my writing ability when I was up North vs. living down South now. The setting these days is an easy one to get me in my writing zone. On my Porch with a tall glass of iced tea and a pick-up truck in the driveway with my dog max at my feet. Depending on my mood, I can have music playing in the background. Doesn’t take much for my mind to wander to strange and pleasant places I have been or yet to be. Things that I have seen or want to see.
Being away from the hustle and bustle of a large Northern city has helped me relax and be a little more introspective. You know how multiple choices can make me weak at the knees. You can only imagine how adding the city noise and attitude to my though process would interfere with me thinking about anything...Plus, where I lived..it was all about being aware of your surroundings at all times, not to take in the scenery but to be sure you were going to stay safe and healthy.
Don't get me wrong, I am a city boy at heart, a true Yankee. I miss the daily grind at times. But I also have a new found appreciation on how a little space and less noise can bring out parts unknown to oneself and discover a writers zone that has been hidden and dormant for many years.
Let it flow, let it go, no pressure.
Nine elements of flow
MihalyiCsikszentmihalyi identified nine elements of flow that he saw repeatedly in his research:
1. There are clear goals every step of the way. In many everyday situations, there are contradictory demands and it’s sometimes quite unclear what should occupy our attention. But in a flow experience, you have a clear purpose and a good grasp of what to do next.
2. There is immediate feedback to one’s actions. When you’re in flow, you know how well you’re doing.
3. There is a balance between challenges and skills. If a challenge is too demanding compared to your skill level, you get frustrated. If it’s too easy, you get bored. In a flow experience, there is a pretty good match between your abilities and the demands of the situation. You feel engaged by the challenge, but not overwhelmed.
4. Action and awareness are merged. People are often thinking about something that happened – or might happen – in another time or place. But in flow, you’re concentrated on what you’re doing.
5. Distractions are excluded from consciousness. Because you’re absorbed in the activity, you’re only aware of what’s relevant to the task at hand, and you don’t think about unrelated things. By being focused on the activity, unease that can cause anxiety and depression is set aside.
6. There is no worry of failure. In a state of flow, you’re too involved to be concerned about failing. You just don’t think about failure. You know what has to be done and you just do it.
7. Self-consciousness disappears. People often spend a lot of mental energy monitoring how they appear to others. In a flow state, you’re too involved in the activity to care about protecting your ego. You might even feel connected to something larger than yourself. Paradoxically, the experience of letting go of the self can strengthen it.
8. The sense of time becomes distorted. Time flies when you’re really engaged. On the other hand, time may seem to slow down at the moment of executing some action for which you’ve trained and developed a high degree of skill.
9. The activity becomes “autotelic” (an end in itself, done for it’s own sake).Some activities are done for their own sake, for the enjoyment an experience provides, like most art, music, or sports. Other activities, which are done for some future purpose or goal – like things you have to do as part of your job – may only be a means to an end. But some of these goal-oriented activities can also become ends in themselves, and enjoyed for their own sake. Csikszentmihalyi concludes by saying that “in many ways, the secret to a happy life is to learn to get flow from as many of the things we have to do as possible.”
Now, being a good Yankee, the first thoughts that came to mind wasn’t anything to do with food. I immediately started to think about how my angry tendencies have mellowed since being down South. My anger is like a low country boil these days. Most of the time.
Anybody who has lived in a big city up east knows that it doesn’t take much to go from happy to angry…I think the average is about 3.5 seconds..
I am not saying that Northerners stay angry all the time, it’s that it doesn’t take much to get us riled up. Cut in front of us in line or make us wait too long for service or tell a Northerner you are out of an item on the menu and……....
.........It’s on.
I do stay level headed most of the time these days, but a recent chain of events had me out of my low country boil and put me in a high state of pissed off. You see, this past Friday it all started wrong. My fancy alarm clock decided to set itself one hour back in time and the alarm went off at 5:00am instead of 6:00am. So now I am up early for work and not a happy camper. I can't go back to sleep. Then I go to Starbucks and decide to wait in this crazy line for coffee. The line was literally out the door. still composed, I wait in line and use my phone to check my bank account and I see that I have a charge on my account for $49.57 for Avon products. Still in line, I speed dial my wife, "Did you buy Avon, dear?"
She tells me no. I was losing my low boil.
So now I can only think about the web of calls I will need to make to get to the bottom of this. I finally get my coffee and cranberry scone and head to my truck. I had placed the coffee on the floor of my truck as I fastened my seatbelt and of course forgot about it and drove off and made a right turn and felt the heat of the hot coffee all over my socks and pant legs.
FUC% !!! CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS ??
I yell louder than any other time I can remember in my life. Geographical location had no impact on my angriness, I was in a pissy mood all day from these events. My low boil quickly turned in to a rolling, water over the top boil. The good news is that I did find out about the bank charge and it was a keying mistake not a stolen account. Although, the bank did cut my debit card off in the middle of all of this, " for my protection" I wish they told me this BEFORE I went food shopping.
I can remember while living up east, anger was an art form and it was always, like an app, running in the background of your soul. It was in the DNA of many of us, ready to break out at anytime. Now again, not all Northerners had anger issues, but I bet more northerners get angry at what may seem small issues more times than our southern counterparts do.
I know for a fact that while down here my friends and co-workers like to tweak this anger Achilles heel of mine, for fun and sport. "Watch what I can do to this Yankee" I am sure they would say before I get the . "Hey, Dunkin' Donuts suck and Ice Hockey is nothing but men on figure skates" or just plane ole "Yankee go home"
In the past, while hearing this, my mind would to go here:
But I have gotten much better. In the past, I might have come back with "Oh yea, I bet William Tecumseh Sherman wasn't a figure skater!" Yankees have to go for the jugular , an argument stopper and we don't stop until we feel we have scorched earth. This cannot be healthy at all.
{From a Buddha Page on the web}
One of the most harmful effects of anger is that it robs us of our reason and good sense. Wishing to retaliate against those whom we think have harmed us, we expose ourself to great personal danger merely to exact petty revenge. To get our own back for perceived injustices or slights, we are prepared to jeopardize our job, our relationships, and even the well-being of our family and children. When we are angry we lose all freedom of choice, driven here and there by an uncontrollable rage:
Southerners get angry in a much kinder and gentler way, you really don’t know they are angry till sometime later when you reflect on the conversation. They use words that don’t sting as much:
Up east we might call someone F&@k&%@ Crazy, here, they say – Bless your heart.
Up east we may say to someone, you are a fu%#@&! Sh%@ Head ! Here they say, you are a hot mess. You see, the edge is off but it all means the same thing.
The culture of anger. Heck you can’t get away from it anyhow, anywhere these days…..
Although, playing this game is sort of a stress reliever. I do find after a round of angry birds, my blood pressure seems to drop. Well, except for those harder levels.
Wow, I really went there, all from this sign on side of the road, my mind does wander a bit, huh ?
So yea, Slow Country Boil is what I am all about today, a constant search for peace within. Until I spill hot coffee on my pants and socks.......
.....Speaking Of Slow country Boil - The real meaning of the sign I saw at the side of the road:
Now that is the real deal!!
There are two kinds of social gatherings in coastal Georgia and South Carolina that revolve around shellfish. One is very much like a Louisiana boil, usually involving shrimp, corn on the cob, sausage, and red potatoes and is considered part ofLowcountry cuisine. Known variously as Frogmore Stew,BeaufortStew, a Beaufort boil, aLowcountry boil, or a tidewater boil, they tend be a bit milder than their Louisiana Cajun and Creole cousins.
For example, it is not unusual for a Lowcountry recipe to call for a mixture of hot and mildcrab boilseasonings, e.g.,Zatarain'sandOld Bay, whereas aCajunrecipe may start withcrab boilpackets and add large amounts of cayennepepper andhot sauce. While shrimp are most often used, crabs and or crawfish may be included if available. This is also a bit different from a Louisiana boil, which usually involves just one kind of shrimp.
Yum!
Now, doesn't that just put a smile on your face?
Oh, in case you are in the market to anger a Yankee, I did get the following from the web:(From a Southerner BTW)
1. Take your own sweet time when doing ANYTHING. 2. Pronounce all one-syllable words as if they had two syllables. 3. When giving directions, finish with "it's right down yonder on the left." Confuses them no end! 4. Talk REAL slow, and (even when you hear them the first time) always ask them to speak more slowly so you can understand what they're saying. 5. When they talk nostalgically about the North, tell 'em "Delta's ready when you are!" 6. Talk loudly and often about SEC football or ACC basketball. 7. Refer to every soft drink as a "Coke." 8. Always order sweet tea and/or grits. When they don't have it, raise a ruckus. 9. Offer to send 'em a bottle of fresh air. 10. Insist on being addressed by your first AND middle names. (e.g. Lisa Marie, John Michael, Jim Bob, etc. . . .) 11. Frequently bring up "The War of Northern Aggression" in conversation. If anyone ever says the words "Civil War", always interject that "there was nothing civil about it." 12. Address all males as "son" and females as "little lady". 13. Correct their pronunciation of certain words. For example: It's "Pah-kahn" not "Pee-can". 14. Put Tabasco on everything. 15. For New York Yankees: Act as if the whole state of New York is New York City. In other words, if they say "Yo, I'm from upstate New Yoik!", say "Well I'll be, my wife has always wanted to see a Broadway show!" 16. When invited to dinner, offer to bring dessert. Show up with a box of Moon Pies . . . preferably the banana ones. 17. Name all of your children "Bubba". 18. Use the word "reckon" in a sentence and watch their reaction. 19. "Mash" buttons. "Cut off" lights. "Carry" the kids to school. Always remember (especially in Texas) it's not a "pond", it's a "tank." 20. Never simply "do" something. Always be "fixin' to do" something. 21. Tell them you don't have an accent, they do. 22. Be sure to include "yes/no ma'am/sir" in all conversations . . . Offends the devil out of 'em. 23. Only use landmarks and ramble on when giving directions. "Now go down Jeff Davis Highway and turn left at where the Chevron station used to be. I think they turned it into a Amoco. Or maybe a BP. Anyway, turn right there . . . " "You said left." "Did I? Well, turn left there and follow it until you see a big fish on your left. I remember when that fish used to be on the other side of town . . . " 24. Ask them if it's still snowing up North. Then tell 'em you went driving around in your convertible this weekend. 25. Call 'em a yankee. Works every time! (Just a joke, folks! Some of my best friends are - - - - - - - ) (Edited from one sent to us on the internet. - Author Unknown) [/SIZE]
