I will always honor the bright strain of redneck that runs deep in my soul. I nurture that part of me. Have I put a tattered couch out on my front porch? Yes, more than once. Have I had an old mattress on my front porch? Yup, also more than once. The neighborhood dogs, cats, goats, and roosters love to jump and nap on my beat-up furniture. The way I see it, animals have a right to have “patio” furniture too—at least until you decide it’s time to load the old furniture bones off the porch and into the rusty truck bed, to drive it to the dump for a fond farewell. That makes perfect sense to me. Trust me—between all the folks and animals hanging around my place, I have always gotten more than my money’s worth out of the furniture I’ve owned. That’s part of the redneck home furnishing ethic.
Someone I met at a fancy party in Baltimore in the early-90’s once said to me, condescendingly, “For being a redneck from nowhere, you seem amazingly well educated.” I wanted to say in return, “For being an Ivy League-educated snooty boy, you sure seem like more of a stereotypical redneck than most rednecks I know.” But I didn’t say that to him. You see, I was raised to be a polite redneck who loves her neighbor instead of judging them by what they put on their porch, or by the population of their hometown. “Gee, thanks,” is all I said to the patronizing gentleman before I moved on to more interesting partygoers with open minds.
Sometimes now, I wish I could remember that guy’s name so I could contact him. I want to inform him—politely—that not only did I come from that “redneck nowhere” called Delta, UT, but Chrissy Teigen was born there too. He most certainly wouldn’t remember me by now, but he’d be impressed with the rednecks o’ Delta, if he knew Chrissy Teigen was born one there. I know I’m more impressed.
Holiday Tie Tally: 134 Neckties. 64 Bow Ties.
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