Wednesday, Dec. 29, 2004
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Wednesday, Dec. 29, 2004
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Black-eyed peas and collards for New Year’s
Race legend Dale Earnhardt, like most Southerners, had strong opinions and superstitions to which he was deeply committed. Years ago when he found out that I was engaged, he cornered me in the Darlington Raceway garage, pointed a finger and said, “We need to talk. You need to go to the Dale Earnhardt School on Marriage.” I rolled my eyes. “Why would I want marital advice from you? You’ve been married three times.” A lopsided grin slid up his face. “That’s exactly why you should listen to me. I’ve learned the hard way.” With that, he perched up on the back of a hauler, leaned forward with elbows on his knees and for what would be an uncomfortable hour for me, spouted forth with his views and advice on marriage. It was personally experienced episodes like this that would cause me to chuckle when Dale, Jr., reported that every New Year’s Day, his dad would call him up and say, “We’re eatin’ black-eyed peas and collard greens at 2. Git over here.” When Junior would protest, Earnhardt would put a stop to his nonsense. “If you don’t eat your peas and collard greens, you won’t have any money this year. I’ll see you at 2.” Dutifully, Junior would show up and eat his black-eyed peas and collard greens. After all, wouldn’t you if that advice came from a man who, at the time of his death, was making over $20 million a year? My mama never came close to making the kind of money that Earnhardt did, but she had the same rural upbringing that dictated by superstition that black-eyed peas represent coin change and the collard greens symbolize greenbacks. The more you eat of both, the more money you’ll make. For years on New Year’s Day, Mama would call up, often aided by Daddy, and say, “Come over and eat peas and collards so you’ll have money this year.” I scoffed, I laughed and for many years, I downright refused. I prefer crowder peas to black-eyed peas and turnip greens to collard greens. I heard it for so long that a few years ago, I finally acquiesced in an effort to quiet her and went over to eat a big plateful of peas and collards. Then, an amazing thing happened. I had the best year financially that I had ever had. The next year, she didn’t have to call me. I called her and asked, “When will the peas and collards be ready?” For the past several years, I have not missed a traditional New Year’s meal, either at Mama’s or at my friend, Pinky’s. And every year, the respectful homage I have paid to this Southern tradition has paid very nice dividends. I know that we Southerners are a superstitious lot. We follow the signs of the moon, plant summer gardens on Good Friday and believe that church missed on Sunday spells for a bad week to follow. But, personally, I believe there’s something to this New Year’s tradition. What I don’t know is if it’s the black-eyed peas and collard greens that work the magic or our belief in it that draws the desired results to us. Does it work because we believe that it will work or does it just plain work? I don’t know. But I do know that for the rest of my days on earth, I will eagerly participate in this superstition and will eat double helpings of both. In fact, I’m thinking that next year, I’ll just have Mama make me my own little pot of both. It doesn’t hurt to cover the bases really well.
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Copyright
2004-Fayette Publishing, Inc.
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Ronda
Rich is the author of “What Southern Women Know (That Every Woman
Should)” and “My Life In The Pits.” She lives in Gainesville,
Ga.
