Maybe I didn’t hear that right. I thought I did, but Ellen gestured with alarm that I had it wrong.
She has been telling me for some time that I have a hearing problem. I counter that she has a speech problem, like she is talking into her hat as my friend Bill says of his wife Marilyn, or that it’s a matter of getting my attention when I am deep in thought about whatever.
Do I cup my hand to one ear if I’m having difficulty hearing something? Well, sometimes I do. (Source.)
I sat in on Ellen’s eye exam because I had a question for the doctor. As a technician took readings of Ellen’s vision while her face was resting in a machine used for the exam, I asked the technician if her accent was from somewhere in the Deep South. Since I grew up in northern Tennessee and lived for a time in Georgia, I thought I detected a similarity to Georgia speech.
The technician replied that she was from southern Alabama, from a small town west of Mobile. Ahah!
I said, “I bet you know a lot about pulled pork.” Her eyes lit up as she said, “We have great pulled pork in southern Alabama. We put it on a fresh bun topped with slaw.” Her comment reminded me of Alabama hot dogs that are commonly served with slaw on them as well.
But she surprised me when she said, “I really like bull penis.” With little thought, I said, “That’s a pretty sexy thing to like!” Ellen gave me a frantic look but could not speak easily because her chin was resting in the exam machine.
The technician then enthusiastically said, “Everybody around there loves them. They sell them from roadside stands.”
A National Geographic video confirms that bull penis is a delicacy in a number of Asian countries. Maybe southern Alabama has a large Asian community, or the locals have picked up on the Asian delicacy and popularized it in the Deep South.
Ellen’s exam moved along to the next phase and the technician said the doctor would be in shortly. When she stepped out of the room and closed the door, Ellen said the technician did not say bull penis, but boiled peanuts! This made no sense to me since Ellen is from Chicago and she was claiming to understand a Southern accent better than I could.
For some time, after Ellen’s repeated claims that I often misunderstand what she says to me, I had begun to think I should get my hearing checked. That should settle the question, at least until I get older.
My audiology test confirmed that I have a small hearing loss in both ears. I have trouble distinguishing the letters, f, s, and th. The audiologist confirmed that I’m a candidate for hearing aids. I guess I was old enough the day of the test.
But in spite of all this, it is still unclear to me whether Ellen or I understood the technician from southern Alabama. She may have actually said bull penis. That could be something that Ellen and I just did not know about in that part of the South.
However, as I think about it, Ellen may have been right. We know that boiled peanuts are sold along the roadsides in several southern states. We have bought them before and, for us, learning to enjoy them took some practice.
Weeks later I saw this same technician when I went for my eye exam. I did not mention the matter of whether she had said bull penis or boiled peanuts. I remember being a bit sensitive about Yankees teasing me about my southern accent years ago, and ever since I’m reluctant to make fun of anyone’s accent, or for anyone to think I’m making fun of them for the way they speak.
Without knowing for sure which she said, I guessed that it was about time for me to get those hearing aids. I usually believe hard scientific evidence. What could they hurt, besides my pride? A few months later I bellied up to the hearing aid bar, got my hearing checked, and got those hearing aids.
Still, that does not prove that I misunderstood the technician who did Ellen’s eye exam. Maybe someone steeped in southern Alabama culture will clear this up one of these days in the comments section.
Related posts:
Watch for stories from growing up on a poor Tennessee farm, moving away, study, travel, parenthood, striving, setbacks, and just crazy stuff! 
earlbrussell 
Back in my world travelin’ days I was guest at a Korean Kaesing party in Seoul. This is an on-your-knees-on-cushions sort of smorgasbord-plus-drink party where games are played and costumed young ladies serve the gentlemen who-knows-what-they-are delicacies from small dishes. I asked the ‘hostess’ serving me what in the world was that strangely-textured mushroomesque bit she had just chopsticked into my mouth. She giggled and told me. Yes. Yes. And it wasn’t boiled peanuts.
Thanks for your intriguing comment, Ed! It sounds like you may have had something similar to the delicacy shown in the National Geographic video from Taiwan that was referenced and hotlinked in the middle of my story. Now you leave us to guess what you were served by using the “Yes. Yes.” filler. 🙂
Great post, Earl! As an Alabama-born southerner, the delicacy that I remember most is chitlins. When my mother and daddy grew up, their families all slaughtered hogs during the first real good cold snap in the fall. It was customary not to waste ANYTHING, so they consumed every part of the animal. The children even used the bladder as a “balloon.” Chitlins are the hog’s intestines. They would wash them out then batter them and fry them up in a black cast iron skillet. Daddy just loved chitlins and it was a special delicacy because we only had them in the fall. The chitlin cooking day was a big deal–friends and relatives would come from all over to enjoy the occasion. Except me 😦 I would go stay at my best friend’s house for 3 days because the smell of cooking chitlins is among one of the most vile smells on earth.
Another delicacy that I hated was cracklins. Cracklins are small rectangular dried fried pork skins. Daddy loved cracklins in the cornbread–called cracklin bread. Other delicacies (besides boiled peanuts that you can prepare at home or buy in gas stations) include (but are not limited to) pickled pigs feet, hogs head cheese, souse meat, country ham with red eye gravy, grits, possum with sweet potatoes, fried catfish, fried frogs legs, fried rattlesnake (tastes like chicken), and poke salad. Now you have to be careful with poke salad. Poke salad grows wild and is a weed. You have to harvest it when it’s young–if it gets too big, it’s poisonous. Then you take the stalk and cut it up like you do okra. Then fry it like okra. Oh yes, mustn’t leave out fried okra. Which makes me hungry for black eye peas with chow chow. And all of these delicacies are washed down with a big glass of sweet tea. Bon appetit!
Brenda, thanks a million for your detailed, colorful comment! We also killed our own hogs on the farm as I was growing up, as well as an annual steer and many chickens. My parents liked chitlins but my brother and I did not, and we didn’t care for the smell of them cooking either. We also made and ate cracklins as snacks, but we did not make bread with them. Many of our neighbors did.
Since our farm was on the northern edge of Tennessee, there were some differences from your Alabama experience. We ate everything you mentioned except rattlesnake, possum, and boiled peanuts! Noting that you mentioned boiled peanuts but not bull penis among the delicacies you remember, does this mean you are not aware of bull penis being popular in any part of Alabama? As I said, I may have heard that wrong. 🙂
My hearing is also getting worse, in particular when there is a lot of background noise like in a crowded restaurant. I don’t think I have ever had a “bull penis” incident but I really don’t know. When in a setting with background noise it becomes embarrassing to continually ask people to repeat things, so I will just smile and nod. There is absolutely no telling what comments I may have smiled and nodded to.
I know the feeling, Bill. In my case, the issue came up in a small, quiet room with only three people in it. It’s much worse for me in a noisy, crowded room. Time for me to get those hearing aids, whether I like it or not. 🙂
Laugh! Laugh! Laugh! This is so funny! I’ve heard boiled peanuts said with a heavy accent…sort of see your little error. 🙂 I can just imagine what Ellen was thinking. 🙂 I needed a good laugh today! Thank you again Mr. Russell. 🙂
Why are you so sure it was my error, and not Ellen’s? 🙂
Around Nebraska it is not bull penis that is savored but as you know it is testicles.
Ellen and I once stopped at a restaurant in southeast Nebraska that had “Turkey Balls” on the menu. I asked if that was ground turkey meatballs, but was told, no, it was turkey testicles, deep fried. We chose something else.
Don’t know when I’ve laughed so hard. I think you should do some research on the delicacies of southern Alabama and report back.
Thanks! This kind of issue may be best be researched in the field, so I’ll find out the next time I drive through southern Alabama. 🙂