GIVEN that the heart of 200 years of American government lies in Washington DC, it is often forgotten just what a strange bedfellow sits on the opposite bank of the Potomac river.
Geographically, the Commonwealth of Virginia (as it likes to be known) is hardly the heart of Dixie. But despite the hordes of ''yankee'' DC yuppies that populate its commuter belt suburbs, this is where the Deep South truly begins. Its state capital, Richmond, was at one point the capital of the Confederacy - the southern states that lost to the Union after a bloody and bitter civil war. And 130 years later, it sometimes seems many Virginians are convinced the war never ended.
The pick-up truck, gun rack and good ol' boy Southern mentality is as prevalent in Virginia as it is in Texas, once you're out of the Washington suburban sprawl. Driving South, this is where visitors will first encounter the famous Stars n' Bars of the Confederate flag - flying not only on the porches of homes and in the windows of saloons, but in some state buildings. But however much Virginia likes to retain its historical roots and wallow in Civil War fervour, it is finding its back against the wall inthe politically correct 1990s.
The problem is simple. Although historians disagree on the root causes of the 1861 war, the general consensus is it was fought over the North's attempts to abolish slavery. And even though not all Confederate flag-wavers are racists, critics say the banner prolongs a pro-slavery, anti-black tradition that has no place in cosmopolitan America.
Scratch some Southerners (thankfully increasingly few) and you might find someone who believes that not only was it a cryin' shame they abolished segregation, but slavery too. Officially at least, their time is running out.
Virginia's politicians are beginning, slowly, to catch on. Former state senator Douglas Wilder started complaining in the 1970s about the Confederate flag's symbolism, and kept complaining until the point when, as Virginia's first black governor, he was able to order it removed from places as unlikely as National Guard aircraft.
Ironically, Mr Wilder was replaced as governor only three months ago by a white, gun-loving, family values-toting Republican called George Allen, who - it transpired - hung the Confederate flag on his living room wall until it cropped up as an election issue. Mr Allen, who took it down during the election campaign, explained he was merely a Civil War buff who did not read any negative connotations into the rebel flag. His democratic opponent's bid to turn it into an election issue got nowhere. Mr Allen won by a landslide.