No. 1 in my series of Great Rejected Freelance Ideas.
Politely Celebrating Bad Poetry
Charleston is a deeply and pleasantly anti-intellectual city with a proud heritage of pretend cultural achievements, and despite attracting any number of great thinkers and artists "from off" over the years, it has long managed to sustain a native artistic class of singular non-distinction.
Nowhere is this heritage more overtly displayed than in the field of poetry, where Lowcountry muses, the essential Charleston social impulse and vast quantities of adult beverages have combined to create a tradition in which the befuddled sons and matronly daughters of the aristocracy hold exquisitely catered lunches and teas to celebrate the barely literate writings of their comfortably overwrought cousins. While these events remain somewhat popular here, actual poetry is generally preferred in other great cities, with the possible exception of Boca Raton.
See also: "Archibald Rutledge."
Episcopalianism
The Church of England was tremendously influential in the development of colonial America, and as many Charlestonians continue to ponder whether permanent separation from the Crown would be a wise course of action, our connection to The Church of England remains strong. Charlestonians are typically shocked -- if not violently alarmed -- when informed that the Episcopal Church is no longer the largest in the city, much less the rest of the country (where Episcopalians come in ahead of the Jews, but trail those damned Pentecostals) .
It has been said of the local denomination that "Wherever you find four Episcopalians together in Charleston, you're sure to find a fifth." This peculiar Lowcountry sect, known as "Whiskeypalianism," has its strongholds in the city's two historic churches, St. Philip's and St. Michael's. Pews and seating arrangements in these churches are subject to elaborate protocols, many of them allegedly established by the city's 18th century social registry, elements of which remain in effect to this day. The faithful now spend much of their time writing letters to the editor against the ordination of gay bishops and spiking the punch at the rectory.
See also: "Secession and Other Charleston Pastimes."
Aristocracy
While America was founded upon egalitarian ideals, Charleston and the Lowcountry were founded by Lords Proprietors who were interested mainly in making a quick buck and remaining happily marinated throughout as much of the day as their livers would allow. We witness this entitled heritage of pickled privilege today on various civic and charitable boards, societies and commissions, but also during walks around the city, where it is not uncommon to be confronted by natives who are prevented only by federal intervention from the practice of releasing their hounds upon anyone who stops to peer through the fence at their landscaping.
Though other great eastern cities preserve remnants of an aristocratic past, Americans have generally rejected the idea that all power and status should be conferred upon an elect class, graced by god with superior wisdom, gravitas and insight via their family name and fortune. Charlestonians consider such thinking ill-bred and tacky.
See also: "Carolina Yacht Club."
Romanticizing People You Used to Own
The wealth of the Lowcountry was created by slaves kidnapped from Africa and preserved by an ante bellum system that depressed the earnings of free white farmers and tradesmen. Though eventually destroyed by Yankees and rejected by the civilized world, that system remains a wistful memory of perfection South of Broad, where the aristocracy enjoys the certain belief that their families' former slaves were beloved, simple servants, and that all the brutality of the plantation era was somehow the fault of viscous overseers from the white middle class.
Though an extremely popular view locally (witnessed in the endlessly patronizing aristocratic celebrations of Gullah culture, sweetgrass basketweaving and Philip Simmons), the bizarre arms-length embrace of local blacks by local blue-bloods has failed to permeate the rest of the American psyche, where such behavior is considered not only racist and deluded, but also extremely creepy.
See also: "Acceptable uses of the term 'Darkies.'"
Excessive Eccentricity
The old homeless man you may have noticed shambling through the Harris Teeter is actually not homeless: He lives in one of the finest historic houses on the peninsula, serves on several charitable boards, and is worth several million dollars. And he's perfectly harmless, unless you happen to be a woman forced by unfortunate circumstance to ride with him alone on an elevator.
See also: "Charleston City Council" and "#meatwaffles."
Inbreeding
See "Aristocracy" and "Excessive Eccentricity."
Flamboyantly Closeted Homosexuality
Charleston is a gay city where no one from the native population admits to being homosexual. This bizarre affectation gives many of the city's top social events all the farcical cheek of a Noel Coward romp. From senators to shop keepers to solicitors, dandy Charleston bachelors make life here delightfully clever and stylish.
See also: "Spoleto."
Alcoholism As Civic Virtue
Charleston's early attempts at developing an intellectual class (See also "Unitarians, Lutherans and Other Nerds") were generally drowned out by the efforts of the Whiskeypalians. Though Whiskeypalians were not well known for their accomplishments, their parties tended to be far more entertaining, or at least far better stocked.
This historic trend is explained in a popular joke: "When you meet a Yankee, he'll ask you what you do for a living. When you meet a Southerner, she'll ask you who your people are. And when you meet a Charlestonian, he'll ask you 'What'll you have to drink?'" Charlestonians think this is a real hoot.
Natives view extreme forms of sobriety with outright hostility and moderate levels of indulgence with wary suspicion. In fact, it is possible to view the totality of Charleston history as a protracted frat party gone horribly awry.
See also: "Holy City."
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