Don't ask me again if ah'm a real Redneck?

You can’t always tell a redneck by his looks, where he lives, what he does or what he’s got.  It’s what he loves, does and thinks that make him a hick.  A man can go on in life and learn to do a lot of highfalutin shenanigans, but what he is, ain’t likely to change that much.  If an ol’ boy was born and raised a redneck, well, then he’ll probably still be one when he dies.

Now, I know plenty of ol’ boys you’d call a recovering redneck.  I’m talking ‘bout the fella’ at work that’s straight-up professional, dressed fit to kill, slick as new pond ice, and good at what he does.  Come Saturday though, you’ll see him toolin’ ‘round town in his Beamer towing a trailer ‘round the car junk yards looking for parts to fix his favorite old pickup truck. He’ll be wearing a dilapidated old hat, worn jeans and dirty boots instead of his go-to-work ‘business casual wear’.  He’ll be talking different too, and you’ll wonder where he got that drawl, but he’s really just talking his native language with the folks that know him.  See him at the office and he’ll be sipping a caffe latte, but after work he’ll be swigging a beer while holding a spit cup in the other hand.  He might meet you for a business luncheon at the club, sip a white wine, have a little lite pesto pasta, but come Friday evening you might catch him down at Maybelle’s Juke Joint having burgers and beer, and it ain’t ‘cause he can’t afford the steakhouse for supper.

All this don’t mean he’s false, or puttin’ on aires, it just means he’s true to what he is, when he can be.  Look, rednecks don’t get rich or successful or smart, that can’t happen, but a recovering redneck can get real rich, real successful and be real smart, just as long as you give folks what they’re expectin’ to find. 

An ol' boy the name of Bo Whaley down in Georgia described this kinda redneck as a closet redneck, ‘cause they come out of the closet after work to show their true selves.  Bo says “I’m talking ‘bout the fella's who walks the straight and narrow all day and turns into a card-carrying, bonafide, top-popping, put-another-quarter-in the juke box, so’s ya mama, rebel-yelling redneck at sundown.”

Me, I call ‘em recovering rednecks, 'cause like an alcoholic, once you been a redneck you can’t ever again, not be one.  Now, Bo likes to draw a line ‘tween a so-called real redneck and his closet rednecks, you know, ‘cause the real‘uns work at it full-time and got the neck burn to prove it.  I just don’t see the distinction, like I said, “it ain’t what a redneck does for a living, but what he really is living that counts.”  Many of the most real rednecks I’ve known, ain’t immediately recognizable but if you were to try and tell ‘em they ain’t really redneck just ‘cause they made some money and ain’t dumb, then you’d be sure to regret it.  ‘Sides them so-called real rednecks are just jealous ‘cause they ain’t got a choice, and ain’t figured out its better to not work at all, than to keep on workin’ for other folks’ success, ‘stead of their own.  The recovering rednecks have a choice and they choose to stay redneck, while that so-called real redneck, just might turn into a closet yuppie soon as they wave the money at him. 

So don't ask me if ah'm a real redneck? If you can't tell 'un when you see 'un, you don't know much 'bout the subject.