Where is it, this primal nest of unrepentant Confederates, this bailiwick of race-baiters, Cruz voters, abortion deniers, gun nuts, NASCAR lovers and tractor-pullers? How do we figure this out? Are we merely searching for the municipality with the most pick-up trucks, barbecue joints and trailer parks per square mile? Fair considerations all, but that wouldn’t take into account all the avid fans of Duck Dynasty, Hank Williams, Jr. and camouflage. What about cheap beer stats? What about smokeless tobacco? What about grits? It’s a poser.
We used to think some place in South Carolina should get the honor but then those Gamecocks went and took down the Stars and Bars. That’s immediate cause for disqualification around here. Every true redneck has his very own Confederate flag, even the ones in Omaha, and waves it at all opportunities.
Harry Edwards would probably tell you someplace in Texas was the Redneck Capitol Of The World and he could make a good case. When it comes to redneck governors, the Lone Star State’s Rick Perry is hard to beat. You remember Perry. He ran for president a few years back. During one of his campaign speeches, Perry famously promised to get rid of “three agencies of government: Commerce, Education and the….uh….what’s the third one there? Let’s see….” Perry also appeared high on snuff while delivering a hyperactive, overly demonstrative speech in New Hampshire, parodied on Saturday Night Live. After that, he failed to collect the 10,000 signatures necessary to get on the West Virginia ballot, erroneously branded the leaders of Turkey as terrorists and bragged about his public schools’ policy of teaching both creationism and evolution, leaving it to everybody to figure it out for themselves.
Now, even rednecks themselves, given a ballot, would probably vote someplace in Alabama or Mississippi as redneck capitol. Let’s face it—they have all the qualifiers: both states have an abundance of taxidermy stores, country music radio stations, gun and ammo shops, cowboy boot dealers and livestock shows. Alabama has more Walmarts but Mississippi has more Miss Agriculture contests. Leopardskin spandex sales are roughly even. There are no reliable statistics yet on monster truck rallies.
Both Arkansas and West Virginia have strong support but there is some confusion here separating rednecks from hillbillies. Likewise Kentucky and Tennessee. We’re leaning toward “principally hillbilly,” although there is serious overlapping in all these areas, especially Arkansas, which probably deserves a category all its own. Don’t drive there at night is all we can tell you.
Anyway, after much hemming and hawing and serious consideration, we managed to locate ALL of the attributes of the above places and more in one town. Yep, that’s right. And while South Carolina was taking down its Confederate flag and most of the South remained calm, this place was putting the flag back up! Not to mention serving as host for an extravaganza of TWO THOUSAND VEHICLES (mostly trucks and motorcycles, of course) called the Florida Southern Pride Ride, for which a prominently displaced version of the Stars and Bars was de rigueur. A replica of the General Lee from the 1979-85 Dukes of Hazard TV show led the way for the 17-mile trip along U.S. 441. And where did all this foofaraw take place….what fine city is it that has carved itself the unchallenged legacy of Redneck Capitol Of The World?
That would be our own Ocala, Florida, where seldom is heard an encouraging word and the skies are real cloudy all day. That’s your badge, citizens—wear it proudly—you have no equal.
Flight Of The Bumble
When we were kids, we were somewhat leery of a girl who would come right up and make the first move. There weren’t many, of course, it wasn’t considered ladylike. In St. Patrick’s Elementary School, the boys had to walk through the girls’ side of the schoolyard to get to the boys’ area, however, and we had Doris Miskell to contend with. Doris was not shy. If you weren’t careful, she might even touch you and God knows what that meant. I mean, we had all heard of nymphomaniacs and nobody wanted any part of that. Girls with any “experience” were scary, especially since most of the boys had none, although nobody would ever admit it.
By the time my stepson, Danny, reached high school, girls were calling him, although generally not the ones he would have preferred. Best I can recall, Danny never returned a single one of those calls. He thought it was “not right” for girls to call boys and he found plenty in the proper category.
I have rarely run across this phenomenon in my long existence, though there was plenty of hinting and not a few come-hither glances to attend to. One fine Hallows Eve, a lovely lady named Pam Dubois came into the Circus just before closing, shut the door, kissed me extravagantly and let me know in her own sweet way that she had not come in for the Bambu papers. Having overcome my youthful inhibitions, I thought it best not to put her off for a simple abundance of enthusiasm.
Now, we have the latest chapter in the mingling of the sexes. A company named Bumble, created by a clever young woman, has created a dating app where, after a match has been found, it’s up to the woman to say hello. There are few rules in dating anymore and it’s just as well. The Doris Miskells of the world have been held at bay too long. Bumble is out to do something about all that. After a match is made, the female users have 24 hours to send an initial message. Once she says hello, the countdown clock disappears. Male users can extend one match a day but most matches will disappear if the woman doesn’t speak up before the clock ticks down. (Since everybody has to be politically correct these days, the 24-hour limit still applies with same-sex couples and either person can send the initial note.)
The app was started by Whitney Wolfe, formerly of Tinder, who sued that company for sexual harassment a year ago. Whitney thinks that when there’s no pressure on men to make that first move, they’re less likely to send nasty or insulting messages to women. “When rejection and pressure are removed,” she says, “the risk of aggression is reduced greatly.”
According to Bumble, about 60% of matches result in a conversation. A 37-year-old female user in San Francisco maintains that the time limit helps her clarify whom she really wants to go out with. “If you don’t have enough interest in a person to get it together for one single message,” she claims, you’re probably not all that interested.” She’s currently seeing someone she met on the app.
Our San Francisco user finds that when she’s the one reaching out first,she’s getting better dates. “I prefer to make the first move,” she says. “The problem most of us are trying to solve is: How do I avoid being harassed while I’m looking for a partner?” And for that, Bumble seems like a good place to start.
If you’re still out there, Doris, this looks like the place for you. Like most other newly-arriving benefits, better late than never.
Fun At Action Park
Vacation News
Action Park in Vernon, New Jersey is back after an extended hiatus of 20 years. The place is hoping to live down its reputation as the world’s most dangerous amusement park. First opened in 1978, Action Park quickly gained the title “Traction Park” and later “Class Action Park” due to the incredible number of injuries suffered by customers. During one twelve-month period, 110 injuries were reported, including 45 head injuries and 10 fractures. Six people actually died at Action park, three in the wave pool alone. On the good side, lines were usually very short.
Vacationers in Monterey, California, are being kept awake at night by an “odd” and “disturbing” hum. Until now, nobody was able to discover the source of the problem. Finally, a couple of heroes emerged from an unlikely site—the Monterey Bay Aquarium. The noise, these fish caretakers asserted, emanated from the toadfish, which presses its muscles against its bladder at a remarkable 6,000 times a minute. The hum can last for up to an hour at a time and is said to sound like a cell phone on “vibrate.” Don’t worry, though—mating season only extends from May to September.
The world’s tallest water slide is now located in Kansas City, of all places, at the Schlitterbahn Water Park. Called The Verruclt, which is German for “insane,” the 17 story water park ride clocks in at a speed of up to 65 mph during the first 50-foot drop. Netting was cleverly added around the slide after sandbags and a raft were launched into the air during early ride testing. “No, Uncle Charlie—YOU go first!”
The Cairns-Lawrences are on a roll. They were vacationing in New York City when the 9-11 attack on the Twin Towers took place. Then, they were roaming around in a double-decker bus in London when the Underground bombings occurred. And finally, they were there in the city when the Mumbai attacks that besieged the Indian metropolis took place. Where you goin’ THIS year, guys? Just askin’.
Igloo Village in Ittaqqortoormiit (“Mayberry,” in English), Greenland is now open to vacationers. Tired of the hot weather? You can live with the Inuit people and enjoy the spectacular wildlife which surrounds this exotic alternative. Dog sledding, traveling to frozen fjords, visiting deserted villages, sleeping in icy caves—all this and more is available now at reduced Summer rates. Polar bears are optional. Don’t forget your toe-socks.
Never Go To Tulum
When Juan Hernandez left San Antonio for Cancun on July 4, he had no idea the trip would be his last. Three days into his vacation, he visited the Mayan ruins at Tulum with his family and was promptly bitten by a grouchy pit viper. The wound was in a part of his leg in which Hernandez had little feeling due to a skin graft following a childhood accident, so he was not aware of the bite immediately. A few hours later, Juan was in excruciating pain in a hospital. A Mexican hospital. Oh oh. You know how things somehow slip through the cracks in Mexico? Things like cartel boss El Chapo, biggest criminal south of the border, slipping off into his giant tunnel beneath what was supposedly the most secure jail in Mexico? If the jails are bad, the hospitals may be worse. Hernandez and his family went to three of them looking for anti-venom. At a fourth, they spent three hours of torture waiting to no avail. Juan’s wife, Karina said “I fought with everyone that I could fight with. I begged everyone I could find to give him the anti-venom, but it wasn’t enough.” Hernandez bled out 30 hours after the bite. In the U.S., only 10 people a year die from snake bites. Juan, seemingly at the hospital in plenty of time, probably wouldn’t have been one of them.
Never Vacation With A Bungee
Visiting Victoria Falls in southern Africa is a dream for many, but for 22-year-old Erin Langworthy, it turned out to be a nightmare. The Australian decided to bungee-jump off the Victoria Falls Bridge, the cord snapped and she plunged 364 feet into the crocodile-infested Zambezi River below. She was swept down the swollen river, her feet still bound together by 30 feet of rope, and spent forty minutes in the water before grabbing onto some rocks where an employee of the bungee company pulled her to the river bank. When asked how she felt, Langworthy spouted, “All things considered, I’d rather be in Philadelphia.”
Never Go To Ululu
German tourist Daniel Dudzisz got lost this year while attempting to walk almost halfway across Australia alone. He survived by eating flies. Dudzisz had been homeless for two years and was used to walking long distances on his own. He had planned to walk 2,400 miles from New South Wales to Ululu but found himself lost and stranded between two flooded banks of a river for 10 days. A friend, opal miner Andrew Plax was not worried, though. He testified that Daniel was a uniquely tough traveler who had walked enormous distances on other continents, drinking water from troughs and puddles. “He could live off the smell of an oily rag,” claimed Andrew, true praise indeed. Dudzisz, who is diabetic, fortunately carried enough insulin with him to weather the storm. He was eventually found by a passing motorist but insisted on finishing his walk. He promised to stick to the main roads and walk only during daylight. There was no information about fly replacement rations.
That’s all, folks….
EXCEPT to let you know that a fellow named Bruce Semans, is hunting for copies of old Charlatan magazines. Well, who isn’t, you might ask, but Semans is on a different level. He has a hefty fourteen of the critters, more than anybody except Bill, and he won a bidding war on eBay for his last prize, coughing up a mighty $284. Bruce is obviously not fooling around. You can reach him at 217-494-4671 if you’re of a mind.
