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Jim Bob Cooter and Southern Pride
06/12/06
by Clay

University of Tennessee backup quarterback Jim Bob Cooter was arrested last weekend for drunk driving. Everyone who just read this sentence and is not from the South is thinking, "That cannot possibly be his name." Every Southerner is thinking, "How dare Jim Bob go and besmirch the fine name of a good ol' boy like Cooter from Dukes of Hazzard." (Okay, maybe the word "besmirch" wouldn't be used so often).

And I'm not just saying this because I have Cooter's autograph on the "Hazzard County Hot Pursuit Set," a collection of three cars from the show (Boss Hogg's Cadillac, the General Lee and Roscoe P. Coltrane's yellow cruiser) that is still inside its original packaging. This is completely true. For the record, yes, someone is still willing to have sex with me. My wife consistently hides this collection because she is ashamed of it. After a 10 minute search, I just found it hidden behind the drapes and a picture frame. I restored the cars to a place of prominence where everyone can see the autograph:

By the way, Cletus also signed my car collection, but his name is on the back and no one has recently befouled the name Cletus.

Southerners' anger over the besmirching of the name Cooter is even more pronounced since the annual gathering of Dukes of Hazzard fans just took place in Nashville. Confession: There is absolutely no excuse for my failure to attend this gathering especially since 100,000 other Dukes fans managed to make the event. Seriously, 100,000 fans. That's 20,000 more than almost any NFL stadium on Sunday. And the gathering was only three miles from my house. I pledge to you that next year, I will be there no matter the consequences.

Also, in the further interest of disclosure, my parents named me "Richard Clay," fully intending all along I would go by "Clay" (The only false start countenanced in Southern society is the unused first name) and I have an uncle whose name is "Hugh Bob." So clearly I'm not the names arbiter around here. But personally, who wouldn't rather be named "Jim Bob Cooter" than "Joe Smith" or "Chris Leak"? If you picked Joe Smith, you're definitely not Southern.

It's trendy to pretend that such things as regional differences have faded into oblivion thanks to the homogenization of the Internet, chain restaurants, national television and the rise of the interstate system. While society has undergone a certain overlap of likeness (thank God CBS shows Southeastern Conference football no matter what part of the country you live in), it's been my experience that this likeness has reached its apex and is beginning to recede.

Now that I've had my Thomas Friedman moment, it's time for some ultimate brilliance courtesy of ClayNation Canon No. 122: "People who are moving to the South are the most fervent adherents of all things Southern."

For instance, my Michigan-born wife has a Southern accent now. She should be the head recruiter for the University of Michigan in the South. With her peculiar cadences, she sounds like Bo Schembeckler for one part of her sentences and Bear Bryant for the other.

"I'm telling youse guys, I can guarantee y'all you ain't seen nothin' till you seen a sumbitch get to run onto that field as a starter," she would say.

I can't imagine this not playing well in living rooms from Mobile to Columbia for parents who are nervous about their kids going above the Mason-Dixon Line. Further, "y'all" has emerged as the one word every person who moves to the South immediately embraces. I've heard everyone from Nigerian immigrants to French exchange students parade the contraction with pride. Welcome to the New South, where people who aren't even here yet want things to stay the exact same way as they already are.

But this brings us back to the Tennessee Vols' Jim Bob Cooter, patron saint of men named Jim Bob Cooter everywhere. I'm sure even the real Cooter has made mistakes, difficult as this is to believe. In fact, I seem to recall an episode where he claimed the General Lee had been repaired but when Bo and Luke Duke needed it most, the car broke down. Cooter was very upset, but he bounced back and became the best mechanic Hazzard County had ever seen.

Somewhere, this analogy has an instructive lesson, I'm sure of it. Perhaps Jim Bob Cooter will emerge from fourth-string quarterback to lead the Vols to victory. Or maybe he could release an apology where he changes the lyrics of Waylon Jennings' theme song, "Good Ol' Boys." Sample lines: "Blew a .19, that's just a little bit more than the law would allow."

Cooter wouldn't be the first goodhearted outlaw to run afoul of the law and into people's hearts. After all, in the South, we're good at forgiving because we're also good at sinning.

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