You Can't Drink All Day If You Don't Start in the Mornin' ~ Celia Rivenbark

You know those goofy ice breaker questions people ask at corporate events? Things like “If you were stranded on an island, what three items would you want with you?” and “If you could be any ice cream flavor, what would you be?” My favorite though, is always, “If you could have a dinner party with anyone, living or dead, who would you invite?” It’s my favorite because most people try to do the ass-kissy thing and rattle off names like Gandhi, Mother Theresa, Abraham Lincoln, Shakespeare, some long lost great-great-grandparent, or even Jesus. I assume they think this makes them sound intellectual; the equivalent of a beauty queen claiming that her biggest wish is world peace. Typically, this is when I’m rolling my eyes.

As with most things, my answer to this question is usually…askew…from most. My fictional dead-or-alive dinner party would include people like Lucille Ball, Chelsea Handler, Tina Fey, Joan Rivers, Jen Lancaster, Fannie Flagg, Erma Bombeck…basically a rotating list of funny women. I can only imagine the ab workout I’d walk away with after a vodka soaked evening with these ladies.

Well, I’m happy to announce I have found a new additional to my imaginary girl-fest: Celia Rivenbark. She has been popping up as a recommended author on both Amazon and Goodreads lately, and frankly when I saw the title, “You Can’t Drink All Day If You Don’t Start in the Mornin’” I pretty much couldn’t resist.  I mean, who could?

Reading Celia Rivenbark feels a little like sitting on a sunny southern porch with a good friend, sipping cocktails and gossiping about the neighbors as they walk by. Not that I’ve even done that. Or even been to the south, really. But Rivenbark paints such a vivid image of the south, I can see it.

“You Can’t Drink All Day If You Don’t Start in the Mornin’” is a collection of essays covering things like what life much be like for a Jesus action figure sitting on a Walmart shelf, the annoyance of Gwyneth Paltrow’s lifestyle advice, the all too familiar pain of finding pants that fit, and how a southern mamma is supposed to compete with homemade bento boxed lunches popular in Japan.

No matter what she’s talking about though, Rivenbark does it with – I almost said “down-home charm” - but that sounds really cliché and insulting. Her voice is not the over exaggerated folksy southern twang you see on TV (I’m looking at you GCB). This is a real woman with a real voice. One that speaks to the reality of life for the average woman in America. A really funny average woman in America who would rather spy on her new neighbors while half-paying attention as her daughter sets up her Facebook account. A really funny average woman in America who made me laugh my ass off. Out loud. Often.

Apparently I am late to the party once again. “You Can’t Drink All Day If You Don’t Start in the Mornin’” is Rivenbark’s 5^th book. That means I need to get cracking on the other four. That way I’ll have plenty to talk about during our dinner party.