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The Great Redneck Debate

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Thursday, November 13, 2008

The Great Redneck Debate

OK, while I've wrangled with posting this or not, all caution is thrown to the wind and I'm about to toss two dear people under the bus (as it's running, no less)... Sorry guys!

Some brief background:

Well, y'all know I'm originally from Massachusetts but I am, and always will be, a Philly gal at heart. That goes without argument. As such, I'm more of a city gal who sometimes lives on the outskirts of city chaos - more relaxing. However, don't get it twisted - country and me - NON-MIXY THINGS. I need some sort of people millin' about and police sirens to feel at home (shush with any police uniform references MB!)

Meowmix lives in New Hampshire, pretty much a small town on the outskirts of the bigger city of Manchester. Lots of back roads, dirt paths and such. Meowmix doesn't have a country mindset though but she is a biker gal. (Betcha didn't guess that with those sassy red shoes and all).

Rifleman lives in Philadelphia and, by all appearances and his accent, the boy is a city boy through and through. Regardless of him going to school in South Carolina, I would never peg him for being a redneck, even if he's a country music aficionado and likes his bourbon.

OK, onto the story at hand.

As y'all might guess, like with many of our trips to Philly, there is always chaotic things going on and its a whirlwind. So, Saturday night in Philly, Meowmix and I went to have a quick cocktail with Rifleman to catch up. Plus, not torturing Rifleman while in Philly just doesn't seem right, ya know. Well, after having dinner on South Street with Reese, Meowmix and I headed over to our fave spot in Manayunk, head downstairs and Ant, on cue, starts mixing the cocktails. As I was in NO shape to drink after the night before (your gal had a hangover that only got worse as the day progressed), I decided that a diet coke was in order. Of course Rifleman protested and eventually some Captain made its appearance. Hey, after college, I figure, I have a built up immunity to the stuff. I can't remember what Meowmix was drinking but, with Ant's heavy hand, it had to be lethal.

Somehow, some way the discussion progressed from Rifleman's canary singing about me trying to bribe him for b'day party intel and Meowmix's drunk texts re: eye candy into what will forever be deemed "The Great Redneck Debate".

How did a redneck discussion start, you ask?

Well, Meowmix was showing Rifleman a new pic of her new boytoy, Bucket Boy, and Rifleman, on first glance, promptly exclaimed "He's a REDNECK!" What about Bucket Boy screams redneck? The fact he drives a TRUCK with a BUCKET for work? C'mon now. It's not like he's pickin up Meowmix for a date in that there vehicle. However, channeling his inner Irish stubborn streak, Rifleman refused to sway from his opinion. Bucket Boy was a redneck and that was that. Well, Meowmix, not having an affection for all things red, started to protest and next thing you know, the words are flyin'.

Rifleman kept insisting he didn't have a problem with it as he, too, was a redneck. I strongly disagreed, thinkin' that he was a damn fool as he was a Philly boy. Urban Cowboy, I can deal with. Redneck - ummm.. Are you for REAL? I mean, seriously, how do you get redneck from likin' Toby Keith, I just couldn't comprehend. Just to throw salt on the wound, Rifleman decided that there was another closet member to the redneck brigade and straight out called Meowmix a redneck, encouraging her to accept her fate.

Now as some of you are on Facebook, I'm sure you saw some of the status changes between us. Here's why. Since Rifleman had to mill about the spot and attend to some other people in the club, he decided to take the war to the web when he was away from us. There were text messages galore, Facebook status changes, and the occasional argument as he sullied over with his bourbon in hand to again prove his point. At one point, Meowmix zinged him hard and he's making motions of jumping on the bar and making cat scratch marks at her. (She did get a little vicious but c'mon, he's a big boy - he can suck it up and deal - or can he, a gal wonders?)

Now, y'all know I don't have a sensitivity meter and I'm quite blunt and, while I don't know if it was the lethal Captain & Diet that Rifleman insisted on mixing himself (99% captain and 1% diet - ummm... dude are you trying to KILL ME??) or the shot of tequila I had to imbibe in order to deal with Rifleman's revelations, but I made my distaste clear with a sharp "Honey, I don't do redneck. That's Polk County and y'all know I just don't!" (As you can tell, I'm not a fan of Polk County, Florida or any of its equivalents).

Meowmix even echoed the story of when her and I went on the cruise a few years back and I met a nice boy who, lo and behold, turns out he was straight out red and from Polk County no less - IN THE BAHAMAS. (Leave it to me to meet a great guy on a tropical island who turns out to be the one type I said I'd NEVER be with, that being redneck). As y'all know, there ARE no exceptions in my rule book and the red rule was one I refused to sway from.

Well, Rifleman had this look on his face, like he was stunned for a sec, points to himself and declares "Lys, I'M A REDNECK!" "Gimme a break!" I thought, refusing to believe his war cries and write it off to him trying to save face with his whole Urban Cowboy mystique. Then, out of the blue, one of his boys Mark (or, as Meowmix calls him, McYummy) comes behind the bar and tells us "Girls - Rifleman is a straight up redneck!!! He grew up in South Carolina. How could you NOT know? His favorite football team is the GAMECOCKS!"

Now, I'm floored and I start to feel horrid for what I said as Rifleman's a good friend and I don't want him to think I'm an utter snot. Yes, I'm a snot but I'm not THAT bad, am I? Am I writing people off because of the north/south divide? How much of a bitch am I, I wonder.

Well, the night ends well, we say our goodbyes, all while Rifleman is still crowin' about his Redneck in Philly status. Fine. Meowmix [I thought] conceded and it's decided that she's a Yankee Redneck. I just accept the fact that I'm a snot and move on. Apparently, the north and south can get along (Lys note: Reminder, we still won the war - HA!)

The Great Redneck Debate was laid to rest, well, up until Hotfessional posts something about her putting up her holiday lights this weekend. So, I remarked "My vote - don't turn them on until after Thanksgiving. And, let me just say I still have my lights on the porch from last year. Does that mean I got a touch of red(neck)???"

Hotfessional's sassy response was short, sweet and to the point. She remarked "More than a touch babe. ;-) But that's okay - you do live in Redneck country. ;-)"


I read that line a few more times and internally kept screaming "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Lys and Redneck = NON-MIXY THINGS!! Let alone, its sacrilege even saying that I've got "more than a touch" of the red since I live now down here in "Redneck country"...


My northern wench license is really going to be revoked now. Of course now, I'm sure Meowmix and Rifleman will be having a good laugh by one of my fave bloggers callin' my ass out...

Ant - please pass the bourbon! I think I need a cocktail to deal with this one...

**Disclaimer - this post was, in no way, meant to offend or hurt anyone's feelings. Just to demonstrate that I, quite clearly, can be an idiot...

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Posted by Lys :: 3:58 PM :: 5 comments

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