*The Bear Board Code of Conduct dictates that we not write sorghum as it is correctly pronounced, "Sah-grum," (west and south of here "sah-gumm"no "r") over and over, any more than we would write "Ebnan" every time we refer to the capitol of Metcalfe County. Persons of good breeding know to pronounce it "Ebnan" when they see "Edmonton," and they know the correct pronunciation, by gum, when they see sorghum. If, perchance, the gentle reader is from off, and doesn't know better, we hope he/she learns here how to talk right listening carefully, not by pedantic putdowns.

Heaven forbid, for example, that a native Adair Countian, sitting at the fanciest banquet in Columbia, should correct a person from off who innocently asks, "Would you throw me a couple of hot biscuits. And would you pass the butter and some of that wonderful Needmore Farms Sorghum Molasses?", but doesn't pronounce sorghum right. Two things are apparent here: l) That the feast goer is perceptive enough to know how to ask for his biscuits, and 2) That being so, you are not dealing with a plumb damned fool.

Given just a modicum of exposure to proper Adair County culture, that person will learn, by careful observation, both correct speech and good manners. In no time at all he'll pull up in your drive, honk the horn, and holler, "Got a dozen cold ones!" When you get to your drive, he'll say, " Hop in. Ride wuh me t' Ebnan. B'i'ness," and away you'll roll into the Western sky, with the windowlights cranked down, plenty of Hank and Patsy in the glove compartment, a just-opened pouch of Red Man and a can of Skoal on the dash, and a half case of ice cold PBR on the seat between you. There'll be two goats and a guinea hen tied in the bed, and you're headed for the stockyards.

You throw your deBabelizer out the window at Petty's Fork Bridge, because you and your new buddy need no interpreter. You can communicate perfectly-upper lips immobile and with only the slightest articulation. Because he, praise be, can now mumble the English language with the best of us. He needs only acquire a little more twangy "i" to become a real, born-again Adair County native.