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Saturday, April 2, 2011

In a Hicktown

I realize that what I'm about to say has nothing to do with being a mom.  However, I guess it does give some insight into how a psychologically damaged individual,  such as myself, may have come into being.  And sometimes I like to remember that some part of me existed before I traded my soul for a box of diapers.

I am from a small town.  People from the "big city" may THINK they know what this means, but like anything else in life, if you haven't lived it you probably don't have a clue.  I'm from the kind of town that has no stoplight.  The kind of town full of people who give directions in the following way:

"Well, if you go past the Smiths house, you'll see a big tree on the left.  No, wait a minute...Virgil cut that tree down last year on account of the squirrels were botherin' Mildred's flowerbed..."  

What?  These aren't acceptable directions? Anyway, I'm from the kind of town where a few students were missing from my high school class, and when the teacher asked where they were, one of the kids informed him that "the cows got out."  My fellow classmates and I went back to what we were doing as if this were a perfectly acceptable explanation.  And it was acceptable, to everyone that is except for the teacher.  He was new to the school and new to town.  He looked at us incredulously and asked, "What did you just say?  The cows got out?  Is this a joke? You can miss school for this?"  We, of course, looked at this idiot like he was from Mars. (Sidenote: This idiot eventually became my husband.  But, that's another story for another day)  OF COURSE it's ok to miss school if the cows get out.  Geez, you moron.  I suppose now  you're gonna tell me that they have to return to school before they can "mend fence" too, huh?

Yes, these are ACTUAL problems in a small town.  The funny thing about people from a small town is that we know these things, but still get all defensive if someone calls us "hicks."  We can accept the word "redneck" under certain circumstances, but only if it is in reference to some great joke made famous by Jeff Foxworthy. (If you don't know who this is, you are in no danger of ever being considered a redneck) But, we will not tolerate being called hicks.  It's offensive and TOTALLY off-base.  In fact, if you want to discuss it further you can just meet me down at the wedding dress/tanning salon/bait shop and we'll get it all straightened out.

I poke fun, but I'm proud of my roots.  My town is the kind of place that comes together in a crisis, and you never have to wonder if anyone has "got your back". Unfortunately, my children are from the "big city" of Quincy.  Of course there are only about 40,000 people, but it's the closest thing to city life that I'll ever see.  Luckily, when we venture out to the sticks, their momma can show them the major points of interest...four corners, 5 points, the lot, and hogback. It may not be Beverly Hills, but it was good enough for this hick.

1 comment:

  1. aw i freak LOVED hogback as a kid. i was a total river rat through and through.