He slowly eased the car out of the angled parking space downtown then, methodically put the car into “drive,” I said, “Okay, now wave.” My son had no idea what I was talking about. “Wave to the person behind you who stopped to let you back out,” I further explained. Poor kid. At 15 years old with his learners permit still fresh out of the mailbox, he was already confused enough about street signs and changing lanes to understand that good Southern drivers always wave.

Like pulling over for funeral processions or displaying multiple college football decals on our vehicles, waving to everyone we pass along the road is yet another thing Southerners just instinctively know to do.

It isn’t only when someone allows us to pull out in traffic that we give a little wave to express our gratitude - that’s a no-brainer. But we also wave to passing drivers when we’re on smaller two-lane roads where the traffic is a bit slower, as a polite and friendly greeting. Often, the hand barely extends from the steering wheel, but it’s an official greeting none-the-less.

If one driver waves and the other doesn’t return the greeting, we feel like we’re left hanging without a proper response. Sometimes, we’ll take into consideration the glaring sun or unruly children who may have momentarily distracted the driver, but for the most part, we expect to have our waves returned.

Most smaller Gulf Coast towns adhere to the wave tradition, but as you go further north into areas of Alabama, Georgia and South Carolina, there are pockets of communities where “the wave” is often replaced by “the nod.”

On its way south to the Seafood Shack, a red pick-up truck approaches a green sedan headed north to a Tuesday afternoon Bible study, and at precisely the right moment, both drivers glance at each other and give a steady and respectful nod of the head. It doesn’t matter if you know the person or not; it’s just a kind and amiable greeting between two folks in search of Catfish and Christianity.

“But Uncle Frank just uses one finger to . . .” I cut my son off in mid-sentence because I knew where his tricky teen brain was leading. “Uncle Frank is from your father’s side of the family, and they do things differently up there.” I then convinced him if he ever gave a one finger greeting in Alabama, they would take away his license. (Back me up on that, please).

In all honesty, our family’s newest driver is actually quite good behind the wheel, and last week somehow convinced me to let him drive when I needed to go to Mobile. We zipped smoothly along the Bayway, underneath the Mobile River through the most dysfunctional engineering project I’ve ever seen. Exiting from the Wallace Tunnel at great speeds while making a sharp left curve, he waved to the 18-wheel truck that allowed him to merge into the exit lane.

“No! Keep your hands on the wheel!” I screeched. “But, you said . . . !” was his defense. After catching my breath, I explained there’s a time for gentility, civility and manners and a time for keeping his mother alive, and until his brain fully develops God put me here to help him differentiate between the two. 

So, if you see me coming down the road with my new personal chauffer and we don’t return your greeting, please understand we are still learning exactly when, where and how to talk with our hands.

Leslie Anne Harrison writes the blog, “Fairhope Supply Co.” which can be found at: www.fairhopesupply.com. You may reach her at: la@fairhopesupply.com