I grew up in a Catholic mill city, Lawrence, Massachusetts, in the mid 1900s. We had no blacks in town and only one Jew so it was hard to wrangle up a healthy dose of prejudice toward anyone but New York Yankee fans. Nobody had a fishing boat then, monster trucks didn’t exist and guns were the exclusive province of the police department. The Charlie Daniels Band was not even a gleam in its progenitors’ eyes.
At age seventeen, I decided to attend college in a vastly different area of the country to broaden my horizons, see how the other 99% lived. I applied to a dozen places, got accepted by each and somehow wound up at Oklahoma State University in Stillwater. It didn’t take long after my arrival to determine that I wasn’t in Lawrence anymore.
In 1958, the Civil War had been over for 93 years, but not necessarily in Oklahoma. I discovered this when I asked my Biological Sciences lab partner Betty Jane Kendrick on a date. “But aren’t you a Yankee?” she wanted to know. I’m not going to say I know how Rosa Parks felt but it was my first experience with prejudice and I didn’t like it. Rather than considering myself a lesser being, however, I just thought Betty Jane a dimwit, albeit a very cute one, and realized that Oklahomans were different from you and I. It hasn’t changed much to this day.
Everyone in Oklahoma was either a Redneck or an Indian, except for the few who intermarried. Since a true Redneck would never marry an Indian nor would an Indian marry a true Redneck, there was a tiny outlier class which disappeared into the background. In Oklahoma, everyone had a horse in the back yard, no matter how small the area. The favorite sport was Rodeo, which was practiced in large cities (both of them) and small, drawing thousands. The second most popular sport was Professional Wrestling, a delicious fraud with the requisite good guys and bad guys, the better to tell who to root for. The good guys looked like Jack Armstrong, All-American Boy, wore white, smiled a lot and never lowered themselves to cheat. The bad guys were obvious scoundrels, sneered all the time, wore black and carried razor blades in their shorts. The best bad guys also took every opportunity to denigrate their opponents, the television announcers and even the cleanliness of the host town. Professional Wrestling was the only sport ever where it was completely acceptable to chase the referee out of the building. Oklahomans couldn’t get enough of it.
Eventually, I moved to Gainesville, Florida, a liberal oasis surrounded by Redneck Nation. Even those conservative areas were intermixed, however, with openminded youngsters trying their hand at marijuana agriculture. It was easy to forget the massive forces arrayed against us in the outlying territories. Easy, that is, until a final move to Fairfield in Marion County, where seldom is heard a moderate word and the skies are not bluish all day. Oklahoma has nothing on Ocala and environs. I’d put our Rednecks up against anybody. Come to think of it, that’s a good idea. I can see it now, an Olympian gathering of competitors gifted in the countrified sports with handicap points being alloted for candidates from Northern California and Massachusetts. The NRA could sponsor the thing with a big assist from Bass Pro Shops and Mountain Dew (“It’ll tickle yore innards.”). Judges, where necessary, could be drawn from the vast family of Duck Dynasty. To spread the wealth, the setting for the games would alternate among Branson, Missouri, Gatlinburg, Tennessee and Texarkana (either one). The esteemed torch would be lit each year in the Confederate Capitol, Richmond, and carried to the site by a long line of certified militiamen wearing Robert E. Lee pajamas. Let the festivities begin!
The Redneck Olympics
1. The Monster Truck Pull. This event features any number of engine-modified farm vehicles pulling a heavy metal sled over a measured distance. The truck pulling the sled the longest distance wins. Motors have been known to blow up and wheels come loose from their axles, bouncing across the terrain and making the event sort of an audience-participation sport, which only adds to the fun. Bring your earplugs, it’s louder than a Kiss concert. Hot boiled peanuts will be available. The national anthem will be played.
2. Airboat Racing. Conducted on a man-made course closely resembling the Everglades, airboats (flat-bottomed vessels featuring large propellors) tricked out with powerful aircraft engines vie for the prize while alligators skitter from the 200 mph prop wash. Under racing conditions, steering and control of the boat can lead to interesting routes so spectators are advised to observe from secure spots, like up in trees. Mac and cheese will be served at the post-race meal. The national anthem will be played.
3. SUV Water Skiing. A paved runway is flooded for this one in which any available souped-up SUV pulls a rider on a small inflated mattress at breakneck speeds to the finish. Vehicles which get four wheels in the air are disqualified. The skiers may stand, sit or lie on their stomachs but must remain in contact with their mattresses even if they are under them. Corn dogs will be available. The national anthem will be played, as will Splish Splash.
4. The Mud Pit Bellyflop. A Redneck summer favorite at mud pits everywhere, this event is scored by the intensity of the flop (measured by a Richter-Scale-like device) and the quantity of mud removed from the pit. Needless to say, the bigger the belly, the better your chances. Fortunately, the Redneck Nation is well-fortified with gastric wonders. Scantily clad barmaids will hose off the competitors and Pabst Blue Ribbon will be served. Lee Greenwood will sing God Bless The USA.
5. The Storage Unit Cleanse. Teams of four will compete to speedily remove the contents of 10x10 storage units chock-full of despicable detritus. Hospital masks and gloves will be provided to help counter toxic fumes and liquids. All items must be hand-carried from the locker. Extremely heavy pieces may be dissembled by axes or light explosives. Contestants get extra points for smoking while the event is in progress. Free cans of Spam will be dispersed to the audience. Garth Brooks will sing I Got Friends In Low Places.
The Redneck Hall Of Fame
The old proverb promises Every Dog Has His Day, and with the installation of the current regime in Washington, D.C., this is The Day Of The Redneck. The Head ‘Neck In Charge is an obvious phony, a pseudo-Redneck at best, but he cleverly pushes all the right buttons to cultivate the barbarian hordes and win their everlasting subservience and devotion. When a new tribe arises after centuries in the dumpster---literally and figuratively---society is forced to cast a curious eye in their direction, recognize their new-found prominence, examine their ways and means. This might best be done by paying a brief visit to one of their hallowed shrines, a small but growing enterprise on the outskirts of Land O’ Lakes, Florida, just in back of the Walmart. The Redneck Hall Of Fame pays homage to a way of life largely unknown to outsiders, a hodgepodge of compromised fishing boats, gun ranges, demolition derbies, Baptist churches and Republican Bar-B-Ques celebrated in rural backwaters by self-acknowledged “country folk” who have no doubt their way is best. You can’t tell the players without a program, thus The Flying Pie is here to present a few of the enshrinees.
1. Tonya Harding, Ice Skater & Jeff Gillooly, Hatchet Man. Tonya was born in Portland, Oregon on November 12, 1970 and raised almost exclusively by an abusive mother who enrolled her in ice skating lessons at age four. She earned her high school dropout badge in her sophomore year, rose to prominence in the U.S. Figure Skating Championships of the late 1980s and married fellow-Redneck Jeff Gillooly. Jeff was not very bright even as Rednecks go, but he was exceptionally loyal. On January 6, 1994, Gillooly hired amateur hit man Shane Slant to attack Harding’s main competitor, Nancy Kerrigan after a practice session in Detroit. Slant struck Kerrigan’s leg about one inch above the knee with a 21-inch ASP telescopic baton. Being a fairly inexperienced hit man, Slant only bruised the leg but the injury forced Kerrigan out of the national championship race, which Tonya Harding won. On February 1, 1994, Gillooly’s faithfulness was tested and failed. He accepted a plea offer in exchange for his testimony against Harding, Slant and a few accomplices.
Later, Gillooly sold a an explicit video of himself and Harding having sex to a tabloid TV show. In 1994, Harding showed up at a Portland AAA professional wrestling show as the manager for Los Gringos Locos. In a 1995 appearance, Harding’s band, The Golden Blades, was booed off a Portland stage in their first and only appearance. In 2002, Harding boxed Paula Jones on Fox TV, knocking her puny opponent for a loop, but then lost a split decision to Samantha Browning on a Mike Tyson undercard fight. In 2018, Harding and professional dancer Sasha Farber placed third on season 26 of Dancing With The Stars. Much but not all of this excitement is discussed in Harding’s 2008 book, The Tonya Tapes. So far, it has not won a Pulitzer Prize.
2. Billy Carter, Brother Of The President. Some Rednecks are equipped to handle fame, some are not. President Jimmy Carter’s brother, Billy, clumsily fell into the latter category. Billy was most comfy in Plains, Georgia, where he was among friends, could nip on a breakfast beer or two without criticism and oversee the family peanut business. Nothing is simple when you are the president’s brother, however, and before long Billy found himself in a mess of trouble. After visiting Libya at that country’s behest and negotiating a brokerage arrangement with an American company seeking an allotment of Libyan oil (Libya’s rogue regime was trying to obtain American transport planes), Billy’s bank account suddenly got $220,000 richer. He insisted the money was just a loan and swore he never sought to intercede on Libya’s behalf in Washington. He also felt compelled to notify Senate investigators that he was “not a buffoon, a boob or a wacko.”
After the international brouhaha, Billy returned to something he knew better---beer. He became a spokesman for the short-lived Billy Beer, a job he performed with gusto. In the process of all these outside entanglements, however, the family peanut farm fell into the doldrums and BC was relieved of his duties. Without the peanut job, Carter complained he had “nothing to do except drink beer and go around making a fool of myself.” By March of 1979, he was persuaded to enter treatment for alcohol abuse at the Long Beach Naval Hospital in California.
Billy cared little for convention and was not impressed with status. One morning in 1976 while driving his pickup truck through Plains, he spotted brother Jimmy walking with possible vice-presidential choice John Glenn. Billy screeched up, lurched to a stop, dug a can out of the back seat and popped the top, offering it to Glenn. “I’m Billy!” he smiled at the Ohio senator. “I suspected as much,” said Glenn.
3. Jimmy Swaggart, Evangelist.
Jimmy Lee Swaggart was born on March 15, 1935 in tiny Ferriday, Louisiana, the cousin of reckless rock’n’roll pioneer Jerry Lee Lewis. Maybe that explains his interesting life course, it’s in the family genes. In 1952 at age 17, Swaggart married 15-year-old Frances Anderson, who he met in church while playing music with his father. Jimmy took on several odd jobs to make ends meet and also began singing Southern Gospel music at various area churches. The family lived hand-to-mouth in the 1950s as he preached throughout rural Louisiana, living in church basements, pastors’ homes and small motels. He began full-time evangelistic work in 1955, developing a revival-tent-meeting following throughout the South.
In the late 1960s, Swaggart began recording gospel music and transmitting on Christian radio stations, eventually developing a broad radio ministry and then a half-hour television show in Baton Rouge. By 1980, Swaggart began a five-days-a-week TV program and several on-location crusade meetings in major cities. By 1983, more than 250 television stations carried his telecast. Alas and alack, what goes up must come down and Jimmy had a rough landing. Despite excoriating sinners, Swaggart proved to be one, himself, and was implicated in a sex scandal with a prostitute in 1988, leading to a church suspension and ultimate defrocking. Doubling down, Jimmy was nailed in another sex bust three years later. If you feel a tad sorry for the lad, you might like to know Swaggart’s exposure came as a result of retaliation for an incident in 1986 when Jimmy exposed fellow Assemblies of God minister Marvin Gorman, who had been accused of several affairs. Not one to take it lying down, Gorman and two confederates staked out the Travel Inn on Airline Highway in Baton Rouge and caught Jimmy with his pants down. This stuff seems to be an occupational hazard in the evangelist business. Just for the hell of it, Swaggart was nailed again with a California hooker in 1991. That was the final blow for the seven-year-old Jimmy Swaggart Bible College. The place changed its name to the World Evangelism Bible College, enrollment dropped drastically and the school shut down programs in music, physical education, secretarial science and communications and even disbanded the basketball team. The headmaster showed up at a school gathering, looked out at the audience and jauntily said, “Well, people---Jimmy got screwed again and so did you.”
God bless us every one.
That’s all, folks….
