Adult Dean: In Alabama, what most people called "spring break" was called A.E.A. It had something to do with a week-long teachers conference, blah, blah, blah, blah. All we cared about was no school. Lots of my friends went on trips with their families to the mountains or the beach, but I was gonna spend my vacation in my happy place... On the couch, in front of the TV. I planned to eat cereal till my teeth fell out and watch cartoons till my eyeballs fell out. Basically, if something didn't fall out, I failed. [music stops]
Lillian: Get dressed, Dean.
Bill: And pack your suitcase.
Dean: W-What? It's my vacation. I've been looking forward to it for weeks.
Lillian: Change of plans. We're going to visit Grandpa and Grandma's farm.
Dean: We're going to the country?! Why?!
Adult Dean: Contrary to popular belief, there's a difference between growing up in "the South" and growing up in "the Country." I did the former. My mom and dad did the latter. This is how I grew up. [toilet flushes] And this was them. [picture of an outhouse] My groceries. [pack of chicken] Their groceries. [girl surrounded by chickens] My chores. [vacuum cleaner] Their chores. [Black people picking cotton] Okay, that last one may have been over a hundred years ago, but that's how old they seemed to me. My point... We were not the same.

Bill: You can't fix every baby bird with a broken wing. Even if it is Dean's friend.
Dean: He's not my friend.
Bill: You remember Homeless Joe? How many batches of hot water cornbread you bring him? Still on that stuff.
Lillian: Well, that ain't the cornbread's fault.
Bill: And what about your Cousin Joanne who needed $100 to start that hair salon?
Adult Dean: Mm-hmm. Then she met a man with a Cadillac, and we never saw her again.
Lillian: Well, I will not apologize for being Christ-like.
Bill: Hmm. You weren't so Christ-like when that co-ed from my college needed a place to stay. [laughs]
Lillian: [laughs sarcastically] What that girl needed was a job and a shirt with a neckline. Mm-hmm.

Bill: I told you how he was swerving all over the road.
Dean: It was like watching a drunk turtle.
Lillian: Well, it was worse than that. He had a fender-bender. Left the car and walked home. They called a tow truck, but he couldn't remember where he left it.
Bill: [sighs] I guess it's time.
Lillian: Yeah. Everybody's time comes sooner or later. I know it's hard, but you're doing the right thing, and you're doing it because you love him.
Dean: It's okay, Dad. He'll be in a better place, like Buster.
Adult Dean: I didn't exactly know what they were talking about, but it sounded like when my dog Buster had to go to a big farm in the sky.
Bill: What? Boy, we're talking about stopping your granddad from driving, not putting him down.
Dean: Oh!

Lillian: Well, what's the harm in it, Bill?
Bill: Well, for starters, I don't like how the white Scouts stole all their rituals from African tribal rites of passage.
Adult Dean: My dad was of the opinion that if there was something of value in American culture, it was definitely stolen from Black people.
[flashback to Bill watching Ed Sullivan Show on TV :]
Bill: Elvis Presley? Ha! Everything he does, Big Mama Thornton did first... except better.
[flashback to Bill holding a drink:]
Bill: Coca-Cola? [scoffs] Please. They'd be nowhere if Africans hadn't domesticated the kola nut.
[flashback to Bill hanging decorations on a Christmas tree:]
Bill: [chuckles] Santa Claus? You know the real Saint Nicholas was a black Moor.
[present:]
Lillian: Are you sure about that, Bill? I thought the Scouts got their rituals from the Native Americans.
Bill: And where do you think they got it from?

Dean: Hey, Dad. Can I join my friend Brad's Dixie Scout troop?
Bill: The Dixie Scouts? So you want to join the White troop? Or as I call them, the junior Klan.
Dean: No, but, Dad, it's not like that. Brad's father is the Scoutmaster.
Bill: I'm sorry, did you say Scoutmaster? The man in charge is called "master"? Listen to yourself, son.
Dean: But, Dad, all my other friends are doing it.
Bill: Yeah, your White friends. I'm not letting you join in with those East Montgomery boys.

Adult Dean: Growing up in the '60s, I was surrounded by images of the ideal middle-class, suburban life, and I wanted nothing more than to have my own big, fat slice of that American pie. Can you blame me? Those smiling White people made happiness and prosperity look so damn appealing. It only seemed fair... if other families got to have these cool, middle-class experiences, who said mine couldn't, too?
Dean: Hey, Dad. Can we go to the beach?
Bill: Sharks.
Adult Dean: My dad. That's who.
[montage:]
Dean: Hey, Dad, can we rent a cabin in the woods?
Bill: Bears.
Dean: Hey, Dad, can we get a dog?
Bill: Fleas.

Dean: So... what makes cupcakes taste so "down home"?
Lillian: Slavery. And bacon grease in the pan. But mainly slavery.

Lillian: And then he told me they were your magazines, and this was supposed to be between the men.
Bill: Oh, so you did hear that part.
Adult Dean: I know I wasn't supposed to do it. I know they're dirty. [sighs] I tried to think about other things, but I couldn't get those pictures out of my head. Stupid sexy Harriet Tubman.

Bill: So, who gonna be there?
Kim: Mildred, Vesta... Kwame X.
Bill: Kwame X? What kind of stupid-ass militant name is that? His name is Albert. Albert. And you're not going.

Bill: Shh. Be cool.
Adult Dean: "Be cool" was Daddy's catch-all advice for every situation.
[flashback to Bill throwing a match on the grill:]
Bill: Be cool.
[flashback to Dean gasping as he's electrocuted by a wall socket:]
Bill: Be cool.
[flashback to Bill in the driver's seat with his family as their car is stopped by the police:]
Bill: Be cool.