Watchyer Cahdagsay?

I had just exited I-20 heading for Tucker. It was a warm, sunny day, and I had the windows of the VW Rabbit down. I stopped at the red light ready to take a left, when a pickup pulled up on my right.

“Hey!” the grizzled, weathered man yelled over to me.

“Hey!” I yelled back.

“Watchyer Gahdagsay?” he yelled in a thick suthern accent.


“Watchyer Gahdagsay?”

I cupped my hand to my ear. “Sorry! Can’t hear you,” I said, even though I could. I didn’t want to say, “I can’t understand you.”

He then cocked his thumb, gesturing to the back of my car. “Watch Yer Gah Dag Say?”

“Oh! What’s my car tag say!” I yelled back. “It says CARTOONS.”



“CAR TOONS? Oh, I thought it said CAR ZOOMS!” He took his right laughing.

(This car tag was Carol’s idea.)