One day, I will write an unassailable thesis that the cultural boundaries of the Mississippi Delta begin at the duck fountain in the Peabody Hotel and end Under The Hill in Natchez, a good seventy miles further south than the traditional description, which has the Delta ending in Catfish Row in Vicksburg.
It will include quotes from Eudora Welty, Shelby Foote, William Faulkner, Barry Hannah, and Mark Twain. It will be so beautiful and moving that they publish it in Southern Living (even though Yankees own it now) and so deeply intellectual and philosophical that it will receive a nomination for the Pulitzer Prize, but not win it because I never win anything. It will redefine the delta, bring praise on Mississippi, and make your momma cry tears of absolute joy.