Not from the South, but I grew up saying Sir and Ma’am to non-related elders. Relatives would be called Mom, Dad, Uncle, Aunt, Grandma and Grandpa. Young women up to about twenty-five I sometimes call “Miss” unless I know their names. Same with women over twenty-five, with the substitution of Ma’am for Miss. Men who are not older than me, and that is the great majority I encounter these days, I will not usually refer to by anything other than their first names or by by job title: counselor, officer etc. Tough living in a time when manners are as rare as an honest Congress Critter.
Growing up in the 70s and 80s, that’s when society made a concerted effort to teach us not to be polite, that manners were just relics of our WASP nation and hypocrisy. So that by the time I first heard Rush Limbaugh after the 92 election, I was taken aback by his ‘thank you, I appreciate it, yes sir’ and similar, since most on the national stage by then operated on some variation, depending on the outlet, of f-you. I think 40 years later, we’ve seen what happens when those manners are so casually thrown out the window.
“Don’t call me ma’am; I work for a living” – My secretary in the Federal service, many years ago. Her husband was a career Army NCO.
One of the things I checked with my son after Army Basic was whether he was instructed to refer to female officers as Ma’am and not Sir…..
“Yes Sir, it’s Yes Ma’am.”
I’m a recent immigrant from the blue side of the national line to the red – (deep red). And I certainly do notice and appreciate this social structure of respect and manners.
As hinted at in this clip, Yankees like me risk diluting the manners inbred to this southern culture. I think there is a sense of concern down here toward Yankee immigrants, fleeing the coastal Covid totalitarians, bringing their northern ways with them. I’ll try to do my part to fit in.
Not Southern, but my mother was a women’s club denizen born of a women’s club denizen and she was particular about rubrics. My father’s code was simpler but strictly enforced. My grandmother was a phlegmatic, unassuming woman who regulated her environment without exerting any effort to do so. Funny it took with me and not my brother, who is relentlessly informal. The problem with informality is that it inhibits building concentric friendships and thus true intimacy.