We have a lot of phrases in the South to describe a person.
If we say "she thinks she's the only berry on the bush," then we perceive the woman to be egotistical. Saying "he couldn't find water if he fell out of a boat" means we think the poor fella dimwitted.
And if we say "her cheese has slipped off her cracker," then we figure the lady's got an early start on crazy this holiday season.
And while we Southerners may offer these descriptions with a more colorful flair than our northern counterparts, I'd venture to say that many of us have a knack -- or think we do -- for summing up a person based on a few paltry facts regardless of which side of the Mason-Dixon Line we hail.
The new game show "Celebrity Name Game" focuses on just that notion. Participants are shown a name and they say a line or two to describe that person in hopes that their partner will shout out the correct answer.
For example, if the name is "Uma Thurman," then the participant might give the hint, "Tall actress in 'Kill Bill.'" Or "Tom Cruise" might garner the clue "Jumped on Oprah's sofa professing love for Katie Holmes."
Would the contestants have gotten the correct answers if they'd said, "Has blue eyes and takes her tea with milk and honey" or "Sings songs to his daughter over the phone on location for shooting a movie?"
No, probably not. Such clues could describe many folks and don't serve to sufficiently narrow down the field to a tailored answer. But more than that, we often don't know these intimate details of others' lives.
We may know what they've done, but do we know who they are?
What does it mean to really know someone?
Take me, for instance. I think I know myself pretty well. I've had 40 years and then some to become acquainted with my strengths, weaknesses and idiosyncrasies.
And while I pride myself on being the same person with the same things flying out of my mouth regardless of venue, I reckon folks from various circles of my life would each have distinctly different descriptions of yours truly.
My driver's license says I'm a 5-foot-6-inch brunette. That's true, though there's a bit more silver highlighting in that dark brown mop than in years passed. But the folks at the DMV don't really know me (although they got a little closer to knowing me that one time in 1994 when I expressed my thoughts about governmental inefficiency in an elevated tone, but I digress ...).
I used to regularly hear myself referred to as the "lady lawyer," though such terminology has waned over the years as more women enter the legal field. At the local brew pub, I was once called "a church girl." At church, I was once described as "the girl who should probably be here for both services."
On forms, I'm a Caucasian female with a post-baccalaureate degree. To friends, I'm a witty, fun-loving buddy who can't boil water but will drop everything to be there in need, sans a casserole. To my little zoo of beloved pets, I'm a protective provider of sustenance and snuggles.
Each of us is all these things and so much more.
This Saturday, I'll deliver the eulogy of a friend. At funerals, one is called to speak final words about the departed, to capture in a few lines the essence of that person. Obituaries try to do this by recounting dates and facts, stating the roles one served in employment, family and personal lives.
And while those things are true, is that what it means to truly know someone?
As I reflect on the life of my friend, on the Christmas season we are entering, and on my blossoming reconnection with Southern Gent, I keep thinking of Dorothy in "The Wizard of Oz," that what lies within us is our essence, and it always has the ability to take us home.
Be we parents, siblings, sinners, believers, lawyers, editors or colossally bad cooks, a couple of lines can never describe the sum of our innermost thoughts, dreams, ways and hearts. And for that, I am immensely grateful.
Otherwise, I might be forever known as "The girl who'd argue with a fence post" or "The woman who used all the words at the DMV."
No sir. I'm that, and then some.
Commentary on 12/04/2014