Mix a little Honey Boo Boo with Duck Dynasty and I’m back home again.

 

uncle si

Duck Dynasty and Here Comes Honey Boo Boo.

You gotta love them.

Honestly, when those two shows come on, I just can’t look away. You want to know why?

It’s like being back home.  See, I totally get Honey Boo Boo’s family.   And, believe it or not, I once tried to start a hillbilly dynasty of my own. I lived with my family in the

  • good 0le boy town of Kountze, Texas,
  • just outside of Sour Lake
  • and not far from Lake Charles (just across the Louisiana border).

That’s where my brother and I started a “No job too large/too small” kind of operation. We called the local paper to place our ad. Figured it was time to earn some cold cash.

Our motto?

Not every millionaire was born rich. They had to start somewhere.

It was a good ole boy who finally answered our ad. He drove up, jaw packed tight with chewing tobacco. His bib overalls straining across the girth of his tummy.

“Git in the back,” he said. We climbed into the bed of his truck while his dog glared at us from inside the cab.

It didn’t take long to careen out of town and into the Big Thicket. That’s right. An alligator infested

  • conglomeration of virgin pine and cypress forest,
  • hardwood forest, meadow and blackwater
  • cut through with miles of sandy dirt roads.

We spent the day knocking cement off of old bricks and weeding a garden with soil hard enough to shatter glass. The good ole boy made us play guitar with him at lunch and eat lumps of unidentified meat simmered in molasses.

I watched the good ole boy out of the corner of my eye. And, I marveled that he was so content

  • In our small town
  • Where folks counted the pot holes in the road and shot Campbell soup cans off fence posts for thrills
  • and streets were named after the people who lived at the end of the road.

Not me.

I decided that day that I would live in the city where folks did more than race down sandy roads, hunt alligators and call everybody Missy, Mamaw, Honey Boo Boo and Buddy.

And, so I did.

But, now, after watching a few reality episodes of life in the deep south, I started to miss it just a teeny tiny bit. Simple people. Downhome fun. Everybody giving a friendly howdy-dowdy to everybody else.

I think it was the “howdy dowdy” phrase that pulled me  back. I mean, howdy dowdy? Really?

That’s why I left the back forty and headed north in the first place.

Actually, the TV cameras only show the good and the bad. Not the in-between. They couldn’t do that and keep viewers from falling asleep.

It’s the slow cadence of southern living that gets you in the end. Hot summers spent cooling off at the local Piggly Wiggly grocery store.  Staring at empty streets in the middle of the afternoon.

When it comes to the deep South, there’s no place like home.

But, I think a visit is all I need. Maybe just once in a while. For a nostalgic rush I’ll stick with my Honey Boo Boo, Miss Kay and Uncle Si.

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