Wednesday, July 15, 2009

The Care and Feeding of Redneck Children

Since moving back to North Carolina, the wife and I have taken on a new self-imposed task that we anticipated, but were not exactly prepared for: The Care and Feeding of Redneck Children.

In our house, among other things like four dogs, two cats, a myriad of chickens roaming the front yard and old guy of ill health who we affectionately refer to as "Ozzy", (It used to be Boomhauer due to his nearly incomprehensible "Southern" and the ever present baseball cap.) we also have two pre-teen redneck children whom I will refer to henceforth as "Ellie Mae" and "Jethro".

Ellie Mae and Jethro are the quintessential redneck children who speak fluent Southern and little English and will forgo shoes unless ordered to do so.

Ellie Mae spends the bulk of her time tending to the animals or perpetually cleaning her room after which she immediately proceeds to return it to it's original condition: a FEMA disaster site.

Jethro prefers to spend the bulk of his time prowling the woods, setting out food plots and constructing tree stands in a never ending quest to bag that elusive trophy buck. His room is not nearly as neat as his hunting spots in the forest. Getting him to clean his room often entails hiding his fishing pole and telling him it's in his room somewhere and maybe he'll find it if he cleans the room.

They are good kids who usually do as they are told, are awfully helpful and often asking if they can assist with things around the house. It gives us an opportunity to spend time with them and have an influence that will hopefully carry them far beyond the "hollars" and the "bottoms". (Valleys and creek beds.)

One of the first things we are undertaking is "learnin' the youngin's English". Having spent a great deal of time with "Ozzy" (Envision Ozzy Osborne with a fifth grade education, backwoodsman life experiences and a really bad Southern drawl.), I no longer need the services of an interpreter to translate Southern into passable English. I know what "carry" (Drive someone in a car.) and "finna" (Fixing to or getting ready to do something.) mean. We practice pronunciation of words like "there" instead of "thar" and "here" instead of "har".

Another thing we are exposing them to is the world outside of Townsville. Yes, they have been to the big city of Henderson (pop. 16,000 or so with a WalMart, fast food, Tractor Supply and an auto parts store.) but beyond that, they have seen pictures of various metropoli and are sure it's science fiction made up like a movie on TV. When we go to the state fair in Raleigh later this year, they will get to see the state capitol for themselves. I hope it's not too much of a shock.

A few years ago we took them to the beach in Virgina to prove to them that there is a bigger body of water than Kerr Lake. We were considered gods that we knew about this. We went out on the ocean in a big charter boat to show them that you could not see the other side.

We could tell them anything at this point and they would swallow it hook, line and sinker. For instance, this evening during dinner, I convinced them that all food has a certain "Nummie" factor. The more "nummies", the better the flavor. I explained that it was a scientific fact that things like candy and doughnuts had a high concentration of "nummies" and things like plain flour or bran had a low concentration of "nummies". That's why parents tell babies "Num, num, num." when getting them to eat. It's to let the baby know the food, which looks like it has been eaten once already, has nummies in it. Now I can tell them that any food has a high "nummie" content and it's going to taste good. They'll eat it.

Speaking of food, feeding of redneck children is a bit trickier and more sporadic. They enjoy all manner of game animals including venison shot on the back forty and fish caught out of the lake. There is an entire goose still in feather in our freezer that Jethro bagged on one of his expeditions. They like to grow their own vegetable like beans, corn and tomatoes. Eating food you grew or shot yourself is a rich tradition and we heartily encourage it. (Have you seen the prices at Piggly Wiggly lately??) They are of the impression that money is better spent on bait or chicken feed. (They got me there..) They will, however, gobble a Honeybun like a pack of pirhanas on a sun burnt fat guy.

My pal Ryan "Mmmm.. Good ribs!!" Smith has two redneck children of his own. They are not nearly as redneck as Jethro and Ellie Mae. The big difference there is that the bulk of their raising is done by his in-laws, citified snobbery who would rather eat hot dogs and chicken nuggets than actually cooking something fresh and healthy. When Ryan has them, he educates and endears them to his redneck ways and reminds the children "that it's special and a secret". The last thing they need is to be reconditioned to the point where the both of them turn in to "Sheltie People".

All in all, things are going well at the dusty end of our dirt road. We hope that soon Ellie Mae and Jethro will be country enough to maintain their roots and pass them on to their redneck children, but civilized enough to be able to go to college and make a good life for themselves doing something they love like a veterinarian and a game warden.

At least they don't look at us like freaks, or worse: Yankees. (I got that covered.. I am a Red Sox fan and have a t-shirt that says Yankees Suck. People down here love it for all the wrong reasons, but it works for me.) We maybe Yankees by birth, but at least we're Southern by disposition and redneck by association.

We're good with that.

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