Compleat Redneck

Commentary from the boondocks. If it makes any sense, it is just by chance.

Friday, December 13, 2002
Cletus wants to apologize to any Japanese truck owners he may have offended by his inconsiderate remarks in the last post. He is trying to be a multiculturalist and wants to include everyone in his circle of friends and acquaintances, but he just seriously questions the value of one of them little pickups. Says that you can barely fit you, your dogs, chainsaw, rifle, shotgun and toolbox in the cab of one. If you want to bring your date along, she has to ride in the back. Did I mention that Cletus is currently between what he calls significant others.

Cletus says that he read that Mr. Possum drives an F150 so he is a real man.

Hot diggedy dog. Cletus and I are now official members of the Axis of Weevil. Cletus is a little offended that Mr. Possum seems to think we are closely allied with the Kudzuacres boy. Cletus says he doesn't have much truck with someone who drives one of those little old Japanese pickups like old Kudzu does. Anything less than an F150 is not a truck. It's a toy. I am happy about the Dreamland ribs. Cletus can have those and it will save me a little money on feeding him the day they arrive. Cletus says he has heard about the Dreamland ribs and he is really looking forward to some good barbeque. Of course it is raining again today so Cletus is "vacationing" and will be hanging around here all day. Yesterday he brought his fiddle and practiced. Says his teacher told him to practice everyday and the neighbors in the court have asked him to practice somewhere else. He says that when he retires, he plans to sit on his porch and play his fiddle. I told him that I expected his retirement to be short since one or more of his neighbors will shoot him the first day.

Cletus comes from a musical family but I think he must have been found in the wrong pumpkin patch. I have never noticed any musical ability in him but he struggles along. He insists that you can do anything you set your mind to. He saws on that fiddle everyday, but I don't think he has an ear for music or else he sold his soul cheap. He sounds a lot like the devil on "The Devil Went Down to Georgia" and not much like Charlie Daniels. Bubba tried to get Cletus to switch to something quieter, but Cletus is sticking to the fiddle.

Bubba told Cletus that he doesn't think Mr. Possum actually gives out prizes when he inducts people into the AOW, but Cletus still believes in Santa and is now outside looking for the UPS truck. I hope it comes soon cause that boy eats twice as much if you ever let him get hungry.

Thursday, December 12, 2002
That nice fellow Terry Oglesby who thinks he is a possum sent me an email saying that he may include Cletus and me in the Axis of Weevil. We are thrilled. Cletus is looking forward to the prizes that come with membership. Cletus is all upset with me because I changed the password on the blog and he can't write things any more. Anyway, he says he has noticed that Mr. Possumblog really likes possum stories and that I should tell him some. Well I don't know any possum stories except the one about why the chicken crossed the road? To show the possum it can be done. Cletus said he did not think that was the kind of story Mr. Possum wanted to hear. Bubba said he had eaten possum. Seems his great-grandmother and great aunt lived back in the woods and that his aunt hunted for their meat. She got real good at killing coon and possum. Bubba says that the possum meat was black when it was cooked up and that it went real good with the poke his granny cooked up. Cletus asked if it tasted like chicken and Bubba kind of looked real hard at him. He said it was real gamey and he might just go out and get him some possum if the poke weren't out of season. Mary Lou asked why Bubba's granny served a toke with the possum. Was it so that it made the possum easier to eat? Bubba had to explain to her that he had said poke as in poke sallet, not toke. Mary Lou looked real confused until Bubba asked her if she had ever heard the song "Poke Sallet Annie". May Lou likes the "oldies" on the radio so she had heard the song.

I asked Cletus why he hadn't eaten possum since he and Bubba are brothers. He said he had more sense than to eat a rodent. Bubba allowed how he was going to have to whup upon Cletus if he kept on shooting his big mouth off, that a possum was not a rodent and that if Cletus had the sense God gave lug nuts, he would know that. Last I saw of them, they were headed out to their Momma's to see if she had any poke canned up.

Cletus went down to Birmingham on Tuesday to pick his ex-wife at the airport. All the way back she complained about being picked out by the security people in Orlando and having all her bags opened and inspected. Then before she got on the plane, they pulled her over to the side and searched her and her carryon again. Cletus says she also complained about being picked up in the old F250 since it was raining and cold and the F250 leaks and the heater dosn't work too well. He says that she just likes to complain, but that there may have been some profiling going on when they searched her. They probably were supposed to look for mean women.

Bubba was listening to all this and told this story:

A man left work on Friday afternoon, but instead of going home, he stayed out the entire weekend hunting with the boys and spending his entire paycheck. When he finally appeared at home Sunday night, he was confronted by his very angry wife and was barraged for nearly two hours with a tirade of his actions. Finally, his wife stopped the nagging and said to him. "How would you like it if you didn't see me for two or three days?" To which he replied, "That would be fine with me." Monday went by and he didn't see his wife. Tuesday and Wednesday came and went with the same results. Thursday, the swelling went down just enough where he could see her a little out of the corner of his left eye.

Cletus said that was exactly what he meant by a mean woman.

It rained hard on Tuesday and it was still too wet for Cletus to get in the woods and cut hickory yesterday, so he hung around the BBQ Emporium all day long. Talk, talk, talk! Can't get him to do anything but talk and eat. He says he is an outside worker and when the weather is too bad for him to work outside, he looks on it as a vacation. Cletus has spent most of his life on vacation since his definition of the weather being too bad is pretty liberal. Of course, he hangs around here on his "vacation days" and helps "taste test" the BBQ. He says that tasting the BBQ is actually work since he is helping me by doing quality assurance on the product. He learned about quality assurance on the WWW. Since he is helping me by taste testing, he says he shouldn't be charged for what he eats.

Cletus says we need to have us an offsite to work on our mission statement and vision. Says that he has learned that all successful businesses have mission statements and visions and that to write our mission statement, we needed to have a meeting somewhere else so that we would not be disturbed by customers and lower level employees. Some times, Cletus talks like he ain't hitting on all eight cylinders. The only customer who ever disturbed me was Cletus' brother Bubba and we don't have any lower level employees. Cletus said that he wasn't an employee at all. He was a consultant and just trying to expand his company into the performance improvement arena since that is the hot ticket these days.

I told him that my mission was to sell all the BBQ and catfish I cook each day and my vision was to see him out cutting wood so I would have it to cook BBQ. Cletus says I am hopelessly out of date and afraid to move my cheese. Well since the only cheese we have here is a few slices for when some little kid wants a grilled cheese sandwich, I went right back to the fridge and moved it to another shelve. Cletus said that just proved how hopeless I am. Sometimes Cletus just confuses me.

Cletus is always trying to get me to update our menu at the BBQ Emporium. He says that we will be left behind by McDonald's if we stick with the same old things. I always point out that we do not have a McDonald's here, but he says it is just a matter of time until they move in and we are history. Well, on his great trip to B'ham on Tuesday, he stopped for dinner (lunch for you yankees) at a small country style restaurant in Springville and now he tells me we are history if we don't start serving potatos and slaw like they make. Cletus doesn't remember the name of the place but he says it is on US 11 just before downtown Springville and he intends to eat there whenever he can. I told him that was fine with me and asked him if they also ran a tab for him.

Cletus got his latest copy of National Geographic and says it has a geography test and that he got all 11 questions right. Cletus has subscribed to NG since we were boys. He says it is the reason he is a cosmopolitan rather than a country hick like me. I say the only reason he subscribes is to see the near naked women. He says that just goes to show that I am not an educated person since NG has not had a naked woman on its pages since 1996.

Cletus says that American students that took the test did worse than kids from any country other than Mexico. Although he is real proud that he got all the answers right, Cletus says he doesn't understand what the big deal is. He knows where Mongolia is and it hasn't made him a dime. On the other hand, if we ever get to be one of the NG Zip Code stories, Cletus says that will put us on the map and I will be forced to update the menu. Of course, I think you have to be a Zip Code before NG can write a story about you.

Cletus set me up one of them email accounts so that any unfortunate soul who might stumble across this would be able to write me and tell me how wonderful they think I am. I finally figured out how to open the account and found two messages. Neither said I was wonderful. Cletus says he is surprised since he thought I would have at least thirty from Nigeria by now offering me large sums of money. No such luck. I only had messages from people who had read this blog.

I apologize for taking so long to answer and promise to do better now that I know how to get my mail. I asked Cletus why I didn't get the voice informing me that I had mail. He told me to quit complaining since it was free. He has a point.

Wednesday, December 11, 2002
Trent Lott.

A total idiot.

There are a lot of his type still around. They long for the good old days and are incapable of understanding that the old days were not the good old days for the majority of Southerners.

The good old days sucked.

If you were black or a poor white, you were cheap labor for the "elites". Cletus likes to tell the tale of his brother Bubba and the bumper tomato crop or mater crop as Bubba says. Bubba planted a few more tomato plants than were absolutely needed by his family and close friends. His wife works down at the Redstone Arsenal in Huntsville and she invited the people who work with her to come and pick tomatos and other vegetables. That Saturday, a couple of the black ladies showed up at Bubba's and loaded up on vegetables. Bubba was happy to see the vegetables gone and thought nothing more of it until a couple of days later when he got home to find a note from the local Klan leader informing him that "we don't like them kind of people around here". Bubba knew it was the meeting night for the Klan and showed up in the middle of the meeting. Standing in the midst of the Klansmen, he told them that he would invite anyone he wanted to his house at anytime and that he recommended that none of the KKK mess with him or his guests because he would hate to kill a neighbor or relative.

The local KKK got the idea.

Apparently Trent Lott never will

Cletus had to run down to Birmingham yesterday. He says it was about the most exciting thing he ever did. Drove the great circle route down I-65 from Huntsville and then back up I-59 to Ft Payne to pick up a Pickup and back through Scottsboro to Huntsville to drop off the truck. Rained like Noah's flood the whole day. Cletus says bad weather seems to have a bad effect on people brains. It removes them. He saw a half dozen cars on their roofs and one police car that had been hit while stopped to check another wreck. Cletus refuses to use the word "accident" to describe the things that happen in bad weather. He says an accident is when your tire blows not when you slide off the road because you were driving 70 on an inch of water. The latter is just palin stupidity arriving at its logical conclusion.

Cletus has taken me to task for mispelling words in the blog. He says just because I am a hick, doesn't mean I have to write like one. He reminded me that Miss Maylene Bearden, our fourth grade teacher, taught us to spell right. Miss Maylene's teaching method involved liberal application of the pine to nether regions and most spelling lesson took well. In the future, you will not see words like figgering and A-Rab (although that is how it is pronounced around here).