My father was born among the misty Tennesse mountains in the early 1930's, which technically makes him an Appalachian. He's been living in Ohio since he was nearly ten, so he doesn't have much about him that is Southern in any real sense of the term.
If my father isn't really a Southern man, I'm even less of one. The only claim I have to Dixieland is that I have some relatives still found among the Tennessee mountains and valleys. I certainly don't speak with a Southern accent, and I'm no fan of bluegrass music. However, I love Southern food. Give me chicken fried steak, fried okra and some grits, and I'm a happy man. Even deeper than the food, though, is an abiding love of the luscious, quintessential Southern drink: sweet tea. Sure, it's liquid candy, but my taste buds think nothing is finer.