We are children of the South, derived from mountain, wood, and sea. We are equal parts cotton, red clay, sea salt, and urban brick. Our South is a genetic melange, a cultivation of cultural cross-overs. Because of them, we are.
Our artists are celebrated, our writers are revered, our whiskey is favored worldwide.
Jazz found its form in our bars and back rooms; our churches fathered gospel, soul, and rhythm and blues. We defined rock and roll, we invented bluegrass, and we can be moved to tears by sweet songs of home.
We understand that butter is not poison, tea is sweetened and served cold, and that sugar is also a term of affection.
We know that y’all is plural and that grits are ground corn. The best Scotch in the world acquires its distinct flavor from our cast off bourbon barrels.
We acknowledge the dark moments in our past but they do not define us. That was then.
Used Thoughts celebrates and illuminates the South, both new and old, with word and image. . .and maybe a song.
We’ll do it in little bits, when we can or when we’re moved, since ours is a labor of love.
We hope you’ll find it interesting, moving, enlightening and occasionally funny.
Come back soon, now. – David Lambert