Stretched Genes by Cappy Hall Rearick
I'm absolutely delighted about Cappy sharing this story for Humor Is Relative's readers enjoyment. The phonetical touches of the Southern dialect helps add a dash while not distracting readers from the humor within the story; which is not about Cappy's own family but a story relayed to her, one day in a store, about another woman's family.
While shopping in the grocery store, I look up from my list to see Ivy Lee Johnson racing a buggy full of junk food down the aisle, flashing her "joo-lerry," and talking a mile a minute to absolutely no one.
The faded tee shirt she wears is creeping up over the waistband of her size twenty-two jeans, exposing a dimpled belly that looks for all the world like a honeycomb. Her toes slide over the sides of the rubber thong sandals on her feet, making a flip-flopping sound every time she takes a step.
"Hey, Ivy. How have you been?"
"Busy, busy, busy," she says in a loud voice, her hands flying. "Dog if my family ain't 'bout to run me plumb crazy."
I feel a story coming on and I'm all ears.
"See, it's like this. All us Johnson wimmen live to be old as Methuselah. Good genes. My great-great-grandmama, she was a hundred and twenty-seven when she passed. Still every tooth in her head."
I began to question Ivy's credibility some weeks ago when she filled me in on her six or seven marriages. Now she's talking about a great-great granny a hundred and twenty-seven years old like I'm going to believe her. I don't think so.
"What's that got to do with your family driving you crazy?" I figure that's a logical question.
"Listen here, Cappy girl - like your name, by the way." I thank her but she rattles on like she doesn't hear me. "The other day me and my mama, my grandmama, my great-grandmama and my great-great-grandmama went to the Winn Dixie. Mama and me was walking down Aisle Six and the others was on Aisle Seven arguing over whether Maxwell House was as good as Folgers. Terrickly my great-grandmama comes over to Aisle Six crying like a baby, her face all puckered up and shiny.
"My mama said, Grandmama, what on earth is the matter with you?'
"Great Grandmama sniffed real loud, wiped her nose with a raggedy Kleenex and said, Mama jist now slapped me.'
"Right about then, my great-great grandmama come walking up and Mama starts in on her. 'Did you slap Grandmama?'
"She was a hundred and twenty years old at the time, Cappy, and she looked at me and Mama both like we was stone stupid. 'Dang straight I did and I'll do it again if she don't shut her mouth. Ain't no youngun' a mine gone sass me and get away with it.' "
I am not just laughing, I am hooting out of control.
"Ittn't that enough to drive a person plum crazy?" Ivy Lee grins, knowing that her story is exactly what I was hoping to hear.
I quickly glance at my watch, then directly at Ivy. She appears to be cranking up on another tale, so I jump in and lie about a dentist appointment that I'm already late for.
She digs around in her pocketbook, snatches up a crumpled piece of paper and begins to scribble. "Call me up, okay? I wanna tell you the story of my life. You ain't gone believe it!"
No kidding.
I am beginning to think of Ivy Lee as a Southern eccentric. There is a distinction between the Southern and Northern varieties.
Yankees, as many of us see it, tend to hide their odd relatives behind two dollar words like capricious, idiosyncratic, pathological.
We Southerners, on the other hand, are more apt to be proud of the family oddballs. When somebody touts that their eighty-five year old aunt insists on being called Princess Margaret, we don't react with surprise or, God forbid, discomfit.
We are good Southerners, proud of our birthrights. We don't bat an eye.
"Which side of the family is Princess Margaret on?" we might ask. "Is it your mama's, or your daddy's?"
And THAT'S what I like about the South!
About This Story's Author:
Cappy Hall Rearick's writing career began soon after moving to Hollywood in 1975 thinking she might want to do some acting. It took about fifteen minutes for her to realize that writing was a lot easier and didn't require nearly as many costume changes. She has been writing fiction for over twenty-five years, winning numerous awards for her short stories, many of which can be found in anthologies throughout California, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, Florida and Georgia. Cappy was recently honored when named a nominee for the 2003 Georgia Author of the Year Award for her book, Simply Southern. Southern Belle Cappy and her Yankee husband "Babe" now live the quiet life on St. Simons Island with their not too bright dog, Tallulah Blankhead and her loyal sidekick, Maggie the Cat.
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[Cappy Hall Rearick; 232 pages]
I thank Cappy for sharing, the humorous story "Stretched Genes", here with Humor Is Relative's readers. The above link is for the paperback version of her book but there is a hardbook also available. Either way you go - can't lose; this woman has a wickedly humorous pen she puts to paper. Can you relate?
Indexed Humorous Family Stories Submissions:
2001 __ 2002 __ 2003 2004 2005 2006Some families have skeletons in the closet -- with us the skeletons have the run of the house and we live in the closet.
-- Joe McCarroll
Humor Is Relative thanks Cay Dickson, from Houston Chronicle, for the compliment!
Ms. - A syllable which sounds like a bumblebee breaking wind.
-- Hortense Calisher
Think you have a funny story about your family, or moments in parenting, that our readers may enjoy? Review Humor Is Relative submissions guidelines & submit your story! Who knows, we just may like it!
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