A new name, southern-style

"Good morning, Miss Carol." "Hey, Miss Charlene." And so the day begins at the little public library where I work in central Florida.

This band of women co-workers welcome me into their midst with a joyous "Hey, Miss Dawn."

Southern hospitality has surprised this stoic (by Southern standards) Midwestern girl.

When my husband and I first moved to Florida, we constantly reminded ourselves that we were on "Florida time." Nothing, except perhaps the anoles, rush in this tropical realm. There is a rhythm to the land that seems in tune with the ocean waves. Palm leaves sway lazily in the sea breeze, and sunshine soaks into our shoulders. Birds don't twitter; they drawl, in honks and barks.

The manatees in the nearby St. Johns River epitomize the Florida lifestyle. Just watching them makes my heart rate slow and my breathing deepen. They linger and interact in their watery community, as if they have all the time in the world. They live peacefully with alligators.

Native Floridians seem to have adopted that same rhythm and adaptability. Hammers driving nails into new houses maintain a steady but fuguelike beat. Traffic, except for the newcomers, moves leisurely. Food service, postal service, customer service, grocery lines all move at a pace conducive to smiles and conversation, which inevitably begins with "Where are you-all from?"

It startled me the first time someone added Miss to my first name. I regarded it simply as an affectation, as when my aunt called me Dawn-y, or when my crotchety high school math teacher would rasp out, "Miss Eversole, would you please tell the class the right answer?"

But my library colleagues regard this greeting as a true courtesy. And much to my surprise, I like it. It is a pleasant alternative to being dry old Mrs. Goldsmith or the dreaded, age-defining "ma'am."

After all these years, my name had become a comfortable, known quantity that would always be there and never surprise me.

Being addressed as Miss Dawn turns my name into something different. It makes me feel new and young – like a princess. It borders on being an endearment. Miss Dawn can dare to do things that plain-old Dawn wouldn't consider.

Sadly, though, I can't bring myself to call others Miss. My Midwest reticence to change a lifetime of respectfully addressing people with a title and surname – such as Mrs. Perez – makes me stumble over Miss Karen. It sounds intimate to my cold Northern ears.

Yet I hear this form of greeting everywhere I go.

In stores, restaurants, on the street, old friends greet one another and young people address teachers or elders this way. It is like a background hum that reminds me where I am. It sounds particularly sweet on the lips of children.

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