If you’re gonna paint me, get yourself a smaller brush

A Georgia comedian’s opinion on the political blame game.
The shopping district in Chickamauga, Ga.

Credit: City of Chickamauga

Credit: City of Chickamauga

The shopping district in Chickamauga, Ga.

I am a liberal comedian who lives in northern Georgia. And I often get asked why.

There’s a scene at the end of the TV show “Justified” that explains it. (If you’ve never seen “Justified,” you should.) Raylan Givens, the protagonist (and the only man I’d leave my wife for), is asked by Boyd Crowder (the antagonist, played by Southern treasure Walton Goggins) why he keeps forgiving him for all his crimes, many personal to Raylan.

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Credit: Handout

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Credit: Handout

Boyd suggests a simple answer: “We dug coal together.”

“That’s right,” Raylan says.

‘Nuff said, as far as I’m concerned.

Being from rural Georgia, I completely understand the bond forged between two men when they have a hardship in common. Old friends ain’t like romantic relationships. You don’t break up just because you’ve grown and no longer share the same values. With old friends, you just maybe don’t bring ‘em around mixed company anymore. You probably don’t go out for beers like you used to, but you both know that when you need a “take it to the grave” buddy at 3 a.m., they’ll have the truck in gear before you can even start your story.

I was born and raised in Chickamauga. I still live five minutes from my momma’s house and, unless my heart gives out when I’m out on the road being funny, I reckon five minutes from my momma’s house will probably be where I drop dead.

The people at the gas station know my name, and if they haven’t seen me in a while, they get worried and tell my daddy to check on me.

This being an election year and all, people on both sides are really showing their teeth. I live in Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene’s district, so I see this on full display, from yard signs to bumper stickers as far as the eye can see. Some are even grammatically correct!

Whenever some truly unsavory news comes out about some new legislation in the South, some of my more liberal friends and fans badger me with the same question they’ve been asking me for years: “Why do you still live there?”

And, I assure you, they are not always asking to be funny. They are being dead serious, and frankly it’s sometimes seems like an indictment of my character. Like by living here I endorse and/or participate in the sins of my region’s past and present.

If I’m in a good mood and their question was in good fun, I’ll say, “Yeah, I hear ya! But whaddya gonna do?” Which I’m aware can appear cowardly, but sometimes you just wanna keep it moving (or get a person to buy your reasonably priced tour merchandise. Sorry! — Daddy has a mortgage).

However, if this person is asking said question whilst looking down their nose at me, calling my morality and perhaps intelligence into question, then I have absolutely no problem giving them the what fer!

After all, I am in the entertainment industry. I’ve been doing stand-up for 20-some odd years. I have written books, TV shows and comedy sketches, and I’ve done a decent amount of “script doctoring” on feature films. I’ve also been in a couple movies, though you’d have to squint to see me. Point is: I am well-versed in “coastal elitism.”

You see, a certain breed of Yankee seems to think every problem in this country was caused by how people below the Mason-Dixon Line voted in November 2016. They think the South is all morally bankrupt people, and this makes them feel very good about themselves while they sit on the balcony of their Connecticut condo looking out over everything but a Black family.

These people act like when the election results come back in Southern states they read “Republican Candidate 100%, Democratic Candidate 0%.” But let’s use some of that Ivy League math: Millions of Southerners voted the exact same way as your Rachel Maddow-loving self, and millions of Californians voted for Donald Trump.

Sorry, but it’s true!

Joe Biden got 41% in Mississippi in 2020.

Mississippi, y’all!

Lord knows I love Mississippi, but, in case you weren’t aware, even Alabama looks down on Mississippi.

As for Georgia, perhaps you could pause “Love Island” for a minute and go look up the 2020 presidential election results in my home state. Please, take as long as you like, I’ll be here relishing my righteousness (and eating a tomato sandwich).

That’s right, baby: Georgia went blue! I know for some of you reading this, that was not good news. But I’m not talking to you right now, I’m talking to our common enemy: people who think they are better than us!

If I could explain what led to a Democrat winning Georgia for the first time in nearly 20 years, I’d probably be in some think tank right now. But I do know one pretty important reason he got so many votes in Georgia: Because people like me stayed here and voted!

Sometimes, though, the “why do you live there” question morphs into something just as bad: “How can you still be friends with those people?” I’ve got friends of three decades whose loyalty and value to my life cannot be measured in any currency. Sometimes we disagree on little things. Sometimes we disagree on big things. But stuff like that gets overshadowed when we stand shoulder to shoulder carrying a casket.

How am I still friends with some of these people?

We dug coal together.