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The things in my head go ’round and ’round

This is my life. You can’t have it.

Archive for February 10th, 2008


This is where I come from

The following was sent to me by one of my cousins. She lives in Dallas, Texas but is a former Michigander. Or maybe she was a Northern Indiana gal, either way Penny is a sweetheart and I appreciate her humor.

The Rules of Rural Michigan are as Follows: Listen up City Slickers !

1. Pull your droopy pants up. You look like an idiot.

2. Turn your cap right, your head isn’t crooked.

3. Let’s get this straight; it’s called a ‘dirt road.’ I drive a pickup truck because I want to. No matter how slow you drive,you’re going to get dust on your Lexus. Drive it or get out of the way.

4. They are cattle. They’re live steaks. That’s why they smell funny to you. But they smell like money to us. Get over it. Don’t like it?
I94 goes east and west, US23 goes north and south. Pick one.

5. So you have a $60,000 car. We’re impressed. We have $150,000 corn pickers and hay balers that are driven only 3 weeks a year. And occasionally to school…

6. So every person in rural Michigan waves. We think of it as being friendly. Try to understand the concept.

7. If that cell phone rings while an 8-point buck and 3 does are coming in, we WILL shoot it out of your hand. You better hope you don’t have it up to your ear at the time.

8. Yeah, we eat taters & gravy, beans & cornbread. We fry our fish after catchin’ ‘em. You really want sushi & caviar? It’s available at the corner bait shop.

9. The ‘Opener’ refers to the first day of deer season. It’s a religious holiday held the closest Saturday to the first of November.

10. We open doors for women. That is applied to all women, regardless of age.

11. No, there’s no ‘vegetarian special’ on the menu. Order steak. Or you can order the Chef’s Salad and pick off the 2 pounds of ham & turkey.

12. When we fill out a table, there are three main dishes: meats (includes fish), vegetables, and breads. We use four spices: salt, pepper, hot sauce and ketchup. Oh, yeah…. We don’t care what you folks in Cincinnati call that stuff you eat… IT AIN’T REAL CHILI!!

13. You bring ‘coke’ into my house, it better be brown, wet and served over ice.

14. You bring ‘Mary Jane’ into my house, she better be cute, know how to shoot, drive a truck, and have long hair.

15. College and High School Football is as important here as the Lakers and the Knicks, and a dang site more fun to watch.

16. Yeah, we have golf courses. But don’t hit the water hazards — it spooks the fish.

17. Colleges? We have them all over. We have State Universities, Community Colleges, and Vo-techs. They come outta there with an education plus a love for God and country, and they still wave at everybody when they come for the holidays.

18. We have a whole ton of folks in the Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines. So don’t mess with us. If you do, you will get whipped by the best.

19. Turn down that blasted car stereo! That thumpity-thump crap ain’t music, anyway. We don’t want to hear it anymore than we want to see your boxers. Refer back to #1.

20. 4 inches isn’t a blizzard - it’s a flurry. Drive like you got some sense in it, and DON’T take all our bread, milk, and toilet paper from the grocery stores. This ain’t Alaska, worst case you may have to live a whole day without croissants. The pickups with snow blades will have you out the next day.

That is where I am from.

namaste.

So there I am…

driving down the road.  Minding my own business. And then this appears:

deerhitchcober.jpg

Attached to the trailer hitch on the truck that is ahead of me.  And to make it even better.
When you step on your brakes.  The deer waves its front legs at you, and the bullseye on its belly lights up.

Isn’t that just the most white trash thing that you have ever seen?

Well how about this:

floppingbass.jpg

Step on your brakes and it flops like a fish out of water.  Reminds me of Southwestern Michigan and all of the bubbas that live there.  The only thing missing in the truck that had the deer on it was a rifle rack in the window, and a can of PBR rolling around in the bed.  Pabst Blue Ribbon for those of you who are not in the know about that.

Growing up in the farm belt, or the fruit belt, of Michigan was full of those kind of pleasures.   Where you could go into any local bar and find PBR on tap.  Yummy.  Sort of like Old Milwaukee on tap.  Which you could also find in most places.

I think that I just threw up a little in my mouth remembering.

Namaste.