Yankees and Southerners

The recent news about our move below the Mason Dixon line had me thinking about the differences between the North and South.
I am a Southerner. My husband is a Northerner - hereafter referred to affectionately as "Yankee". It was the hardest thing I ever had to tell my mom.
"Mom...I'm in love...with a yankee. And we're getting married."
Thank goodness, it's worked out but it's been tough. People don't realize the vast differences between Yankees and Southerners.
For instance - Yankees use the car horn incorrectly. My husband gets mad when he gets cut off- and honks his horn. (Really embarrassing.) Southerners only use the horn when they have to let someone know they're in the drive way to pick them up. It has to be a quick beep - maybe two. "Beep, beep." Polite. Not intrusive and harsh like the long bellowing yankee horn blow. "Hoooooonnnnnkkkkk."
People in the south move over when you need to get in a lane - there's no need to blow your horn. Relax. Have some sweet tea.
Another thing that bugs me about my husband's yankee manners is the way he says goodbye on the phone. He doesn't. He practically hangs up on people. There's no warning - it's just over. Bang! Especially when he's talking to another yankee (i.e. his dad). He could be in the middle of some profound thought and WHAM, he's gotta go, says so, and hangs up.
"Gotta go. Bye."
That's it. And he hangs up. Really. Totally hangs up. I'm like, "Did he have a chance to say goodbye? What if he wasn't done?"
No matter. You can't break a yankee - this I've learned. Instead, you just have to forewarn anyone who may come into contact with him.
"Don't take offense...it's not personal - it's just the yankee way."
In the south - we give plenty of warning when a conversation is coming to an end.
We tell the person we're "fixin'" to have to get off the phone.
We give them ample time to accept this fact.
We give them the reason we're about to have to go.
Then we actually say the goodbyes and love yous and lament on how sad it is that we're about to hang up. We make plans to talk again.
Then we talk about the fact that we've just said good bye and then - and only then - we can hang up. If it's your mama - you let her hang up first.
Not so with yankees. It's just over. Doesn't matter if it's your mama, daddy, sister - when a yankee is done with you, there is no warning, no time for acceptance or rebuttal. Just the goodbye, the sudden click of the phone and silence. Deafening silence. And you feel a tad violated.
So it will be fun moving back south - where people know how to put enough sugar in the tea so that it is completely and totally passed the chemical saturation level.
Where you can move over in a lane without first taking a Xanax. Where when you hang up the phone, you know for sure - you both were done. And the only horn you hear is when your ride is waiting for you outside....patiently.