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Wednesday, March 1, 2017

Appalachian Word of the Week -- SPARKIN'


Last week we talked about the divan (sofa, couch). This week we learn what often happened on the old family divan – SPARKIN’.

The family divan where you do your SPARKIN'
A lot of SPARKIN’ goes on in Appalachia. It usually starts in the early teens. In my day, most of the SPARKIN’ took place right on the divan. Or the front porch swing. Parents preferred keeping all the SPARKIN’ within eyesight of an adult.

So, what is SPARKIN’?

 It’s the Appalachian term for dating.


A great place for SPARKIN'
There was nothing as awkward as sitting with your “date” and surrounded by family members. I recall not much was said by the couple in the early stages. What does a boy say to a girl when her daddy or mama is sitting right there and there’s a shotgun leaning up against the wall?

In the mountains, there wasn’t much going on to take your date outside the girl’s home. An occasional dance, a ballgame, or a family movie at the theater (saved for much later in the process, since they’d be together in the dark) didn’t provide many opportunities and cost money. The couple either got over the awkward stage or decided it wasn’t worth it and moved on to somebody else.


However, if the attraction was strong enough and the boy and girl persevered, they usually managed to take their SPARKIN’ out of sight of the family (remember, family in Appalachia includes every inhabitant of the hollers and mountainsides). If you get caught SPARKIN’ by anybody in the county, your mama will know before you get home. Heaven forbid if that SPARKIN’ includes touching or kissing.



SPARKIN’ is a necessary inconvenience and weeds out a lot of undesirable couplings. After all, you marry the family, not just the boy or girl. So, you’d better be on good terms.

SPARKIN' is not only for the young
By the way, SPARKIN’ isn’t limited to the young’uns. There’s still some SPARKIN’ going on until death comes a-knockin’.

My mom used to tell me stories about the old folks in her Highrise Apartment building and the Senior Center. The SPARKIN’ part was still alive and well. However, she told me from her own experiences, that life is too short to waste too much time sitting around being uncomfortable with a man who bored her closer to death than she was ready for.

The pickins are even slimmer when you’re older, too. They would either up and die on her or she couldn’t handle their toothless grins or their inability to drive her to the next biggest town for lunch and some shopping.

So, did you go SPARKIN’ when you were young? Do you have a funny story? Do you find yourself in your old age SPARKIN’ again? Is it any more fun than it was when you were young?


A couple of Tweetables




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