Kuro5hin.org: technology and culture, from the trenches
create account | help/FAQ | contact | links | search | IRC | site news
[ Everything | Diaries | Technology | Science | Culture | Politics | Media | News | Internet | Op-Ed | Fiction | Meta | MLP ]
We need your support: buy an ad | premium membership

Red Necks, Red Dirt and Red Beer...

By terryfunk in Culture
Wed Feb 01, 2006 at 12:00:00 PM EST
Tags: etc (all tags)

"Ya'll a bunch of hippies, livin' with a bunch o' queers!..." - Joe Redneck

I grew up in the wheat country of Oklahoma. In the mid-60's, the guys I hung with liked rock and roll, playing snooker at the Wheat Shock and drinking beer. We all listened to the Beatles, the Beach Boys, the Rolling Stones and a wild man named Hendrix. But if you were really hip you listened to Wolfman Jack from Del Rio, Texas on the car radio or in your room late at night. To settle disagreements, there were fist fights. The huge changes that were coming, were yet to reach farmland America. Getting high, long hair and Zen philosophy were yet to arrive.

Anyone hip, there weren't many, read 'Circus' and 'Rolling Stone' magazines. Those two rags clued us in on how to be and how to look. Most guys were obsessed with three things; getting laid, gas money for cruising, and guzzling beer on a Friday night.

I was different, I wore glasses, didn't play sports and my folks hated my long hair. I was wimpy and didn't fight much. Friday nights, the weekends, meant playing at dance halls and bars, any place where they would pay us to play. I loved it and there were always girls hanging around. As a teenager it was great until one Friday night, in Jet, Oklahoma.

Red Dirt

What was once a sea of grass for buffalo, became the land of red durum wheat tilled by Mennonite farmers, in the late 1800's. But the 1960's were a time of change for the youth there. They started seeing guys like our band with long hair and dressing different. Football games meant everything. On early Winter nights there was a dance after the game.

For farm towns, there was nothing else to do on a Friday night. We called them hicks and red necks. We weren't nice about it, it was a derisive term. We weren't much more than hicks and red necks ourselves. Only we were playing loud rock music.

I was in the band because I played keyboards. I could afford a portable Farfisa organ, a portable Wurlitzer piano and a Fender amplifier. I wasn't great, but I added to the sound the band made. There were five of us and a couple of other friends that always went to our gigs.

Booking dances was by word of mouth. It was always a hustle. Most of the time during the week, we were able to play clubs. More often than not, we wouldn't start playing until 10:00 PM and we would play until 2:00 AM in the morning. I slept a lot in school.

JR the drummer and motorhead, had a '66 Olds 442, a muscle car with a Hurst 4-speed shift. Lawrence the guitarist drove a Dodge Barracuda that we hooked up a trailer to. Late that Friday afternoon we loaded our equipment into the trailer and both cars drove to the gig.

Red Beer

We arrived right after sunset, found the dance hall and started unloading equipment. A crowd of kids gathered around us as word got around town. Guys came with their girlfriends and followed us around. "Do you guys play Hendrix?" "Do you know '96 Tears'?" "How about 'In the Midnight Hour'?" "Do you know anything by the Doors?" We played many of these songs a hundred times. Sometimes we members in the band  felt like a jukebox.

Around 8:00 or so, kids started drifting into the dance hall. We started playing at 8:00. Over the next hour and a half, Lawrence kept coming over to me and asking me, "What's with all the tomato juice cans?" We were playing rather loud so I yelled back him, "I noticed that in the restroom on the last break!", and thought nothing more about it. Tomato juice cans were starting to fill up the trash cans. It was dark in the hall and with the stage lights the way they were, I only paid attention to the girls in the crowd standing in the front row. I could barely see to the back of the hall. But straining to see, I noticed a group of guys in the back, not dancing much and they were all holding large paper cups.

In between one of the songs I go over to my friend Steely, "Can you find out what the deal is with all the tomato juice cans?" "I already know", he said with a silly grin. "They're mixin' it with beer." Yuck, I thought, sounded to me like a good way to get sick. I yelled over to Lawrence during a song that they were mixing tomato juice with beer.  The face he made threw me into hysterics. I needed a good laugh. The crowd was not real friendly. Usually, people would come up and talk to us during breaks, they seemed uptight and .... well ... hostile.

On the last break, with 45 minutes left to play, Steely and I headed for the restroom to piss. Two guys followed us inside and leaned back against the wall with their arms crossed, not smiling and not talking. Wanting to be friendly I turned around and decided to tell them a joke, maybe get them to laugh. "Hey man, have you ever seen a bird stand on it's head?" They both shook their heads, didn't say a word and didn't look amused either. "What's with these guys?", I thought to myself. I took my left hand, with my middle finger extended and stood my middle finger on the palm of my right hand. I laughed at my own joke and walked out of the restroom, thinking that not only are these bumpkins not friendly, they don't get any jokes either. "Jeezus! why'd you do that!?" Steely yelled at me, as we blended into the crowd on our way to the stage. "I was tryin' to make 'em laugh, get a little humor around this place.", I explained.  "Man!, he thought you were flippin' him off!" "He started comin' after you but the other guy grabbed him."

My heart sank to the pit of my stomach. Oh my gawd, I did the one thing you don't do in a strange town or a strange dance hall, INSULT somebody when they are drunk. Not only did I feel like shit, I got scared. There were a hell of a lot more of them than there were of us. As we started the first song of our last 45 minutes of the gig, I looked along the back wall and saw the guy I told the joke to, counting how many guys there were on the stage. This was not good.

Red Necks

The dance came to a merciful end. Then it was time to pack it up and get out of there. Steely comes in, "There's a whole crowd of red necks and their girlfriends outside, and I bet they are waiting for you", he chuckled. It wasn't funny. I had to explain to the other members of the band the dumb ass joke I told. They weren't happy at all. "You break down the equipment in here, we'll load it up into the trailer." JR said in disgust. I was a little relieved but I knew I had leave at some point. Walking out into a pissed off crowd of red neck drunken kids was not something I looked forward to.

As I tried to reach JR's 442, I saw him talking to a guy sitting in his car. "I want him out here. I wanna kick his ass now! He pisses me off!" I was standing behind JR. "There he is!" he slurred. Before I knew what was happening, his door flies open and he put both feet down on the ground to get out of the car. Before I realized what I was doing, I lunged at the door of the car and SLAMMED the car door across his legs. "OOOOUUUUUUcccchhhhh!", came his agonizing yell.

I did it before I even thought about the consequences. We're dead now I thought. I backed off and he came out of the car drunkenly swinging his arms. JR realizing the situation bear hugged him pinning his arms to his side. He was yelling and screaming obscenities and I was standing there like an idiot. JR is trying to push him  back into the car so we could get the hell out of there. The crowd is goading the homeboy to kick my ass.  JR turns around to me, "When I get him in the car and shut the door and lock it let's get the hell outta here". He no sooner does that then we all run over to JR's car get in it and peel out in a cloud of dust.

"One More Red Nightmare..."

U.S. Highway 64 back to where we came from was long and straight. JR's bright red Oldsmobile/Hurst 442 had lots of horsepower. So we were headed back to town in no time. "Well, it looks like he's not gonna follow us", JR laughed. We all lit cigarettes and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Uh oh!" Pickitt the bass player just looked out the rear window. "There's two headlights comin' up behind us". Shit...I turned around and sure enough, there are a set of headlights. "Be cool you guys!", JR sounded stern. He started slowing down from 85 mph to around 65. "Whatcha doin' that for!?" I yelled at JR. "I wanna have a little fun idiot", he yelled back sounding a bit peeved at me.

In no time, a car pulled up behind us and then started to pass. As the car came up to our side, JR bumped up the speed a little just enough to stay a half length ahead. Our speed was creeping higher as they tried to pass us but couldn't. Then JR would reduce his speed so they could almost be even with us. We kept going back and forth like that until we reached a very high rate of speed. Their car couldn't keep up.

The carload of guys drifted further and further back. As quickly as they came up to us, they faded back, into the dark. I noticed a car going past us on the other side of the highway. JR laughed and we were all relieved and joked around a little on the final stretch into town.  "Their piece-of-shit car probably blew up!", JR said snuggly. He was very proud of his hot, red car. He treated it like gold, for situations like this.

We got into town early that morning. We were tired and hungry so we stopped at an all night diner and ate, laughed and I took a fair amount of kidding to have gotten us into that mess. By 4:00 AM we were so exhausted we were acting like idiots. We drug out of the restaurant and went home and slept nearly all day.

When I got up that Saturday morning, my mouth was dry, my hair a was a mess. I threw on my robe and walked out to the kitchen. I noticed the morning's newspaper on the dining room table, next to an unfinished bowl of cereal. I scrounged through the refrigerator looking for something to eat. "Want some bacon and eggs?", my mom asked as she entered the room and sat down at the table. "That sounds good." I noticed my stomach let out a growl as I said that. "Oh my word!" I heard my mom say with a tone of disbelief in her voice. "The paper says a car load of kids were killed in a head-on collision on the highway to Jet last night". I was stunned. As my mom fixed my eggs, I sat down and read the news story. I knew who that car load of kids were and why they were killed.

I never played professionally again after that night. I never played those keyboards for a band ever again. My band members never knew why I decided that.


Voxel dot net
o Managed Hosting
o VoxCAST Content Delivery
o Raw Infrastructure


Related Links
o Also by terryfunk

Display: Sort:
Red Necks, Red Dirt and Red Beer... | 115 comments (68 topical, 47 editorial, 0 hidden)
+1 fp (2.40 / 5) (#9)
by circletimessquare on Wed Feb 01, 2006 at 03:20:37 PM EST

it's all business up front, and a party in the back

The tigers of wrath are wiser than the horses of instruction.

Yeah! Good one!....(nt) (none / 1) (#10)
by terryfunk on Wed Feb 01, 2006 at 03:37:06 PM EST

I like you, I'll kill you last. - Killer Clown
The ScuttledMonkey: A Story Collection

[ Parent ]
_?? (none / 0) (#106)
by babarum on Fri Feb 10, 2006 at 02:51:18 PM EST

[ Parent ]
well... (2.66 / 3) (#17)
by the77x42 on Wed Feb 01, 2006 at 06:23:28 PM EST

it wasn't your fault. the driver was most likely drunk as hell.

"We're not here to educate. We're here to point and laugh." - creature
"You have some pretty stupid ideas." - indubitable ‮

IAWTP $ (none / 0) (#21)
by D Jade on Wed Feb 01, 2006 at 07:46:39 PM EST

You're a shitty troll, so stop pretending you have more of a life than a cool dude -- HollyHopDrive
[ Parent ]
IAWTPP (none / 0) (#22)
by gordonjcp on Wed Feb 01, 2006 at 07:50:49 PM EST

Darwin in action.

Give a man a fish, and he'll eat for a day. Teach a man to fish, and he'll bore you rigid with fishing stories for the rest of your life.

[ Parent ]
A catharsis? .. Yes, my guess is.... (none / 1) (#26)
by terryfunk on Thu Feb 02, 2006 at 12:46:05 AM EST

that he was the one after me. I did make certain assumptions.

Also, I did'nt want to telegraph it but, it is a story about prejudice and the stupid asses teenagers are sometimes and the consequences of those lack of values. In particular, me at that time.

I like you, I'll kill you last. - Killer Clown
The ScuttledMonkey: A Story Collection

[ Parent ]

the problem (none / 0) (#65)
by trane on Fri Feb 03, 2006 at 02:39:52 AM EST

was in your friend deciding to "have a little fun" and show off his hot, red car. Well, of course they started it, but your guilt or whatever could have been avoided if you all had not decided to "play" with them; if you'd just outrun them they might not have died.

But who knows.

[ Parent ]

Or... (none / 0) (#111)
by tonedevil on Mon Feb 13, 2006 at 01:08:57 AM EST

they might have redirected their anger and harmed or killed some other person, who had done nothing but be in the way of an idiot. I understand the author feels guilt, but I don't think he should.

[ Parent ]
+1 FP (3.00 / 4) (#39)
by Enlarged to Show Texture on Thu Feb 02, 2006 at 03:15:07 PM EST

Guys, this isn't fiction. This is a tremendously accurate portrayal of life in west central Oklahoma. Trust me, I know, I was born and raised in southern Kansas; after my senior year of high school, we took a 4-day weekend at Roman Nose State Park northwest of Oklahoma City, where the clay is as red as Roland Garros in Paris. After winning my first-ever bridge tournament when I was 16, my partner and I celebrated with red beers (ew, nasty!). And finally, there are no shortage of hicks in cowboy hats, as you would expect in ranching country.

The only red that he left out is the Redman - in other words, the Native Americans. But, I can forgive the author for that - after all, Oklahoma was once known as Indian Territory before becoming a state, so the entire state is basically just one big-ass rez.

"Those people who think they know everything are a great annoyance to those of us who do." -- Isaac Asimov
or Redman chewing tobacco common... (none / 1) (#40)
by terryfunk on Thu Feb 02, 2006 at 03:21:42 PM EST

around those parts. But I didn't want to gross people out too much with those descriptions.

I like you, I'll kill you last. - Killer Clown
The ScuttledMonkey: A Story Collection

[ Parent ]
Still could be fiction (none / 1) (#91)
by dougmc on Mon Feb 06, 2006 at 06:15:25 PM EST

Guys, this isn't fiction. This is a tremendously accurate portrayal of life in west central Oklahoma.
I don't know if it's fiction or not. Living in Texas, much of the story looks somewhat accurate for much of Texas as well. (Of course, living in Austin, TX, you have to get a little outside of Austin for things to start looking like that.)

In any event, there's NO reason why this story can't be BOTH 1) fiction and 2) a tremendously accurate portrayal of live in west central Oklahoma.

[ Parent ]

theres no way this is fiction.. (none / 1) (#92)
by dakini on Mon Feb 06, 2006 at 08:10:25 PM EST

" May your vision be clear, your heart strong, and may you always follow your dreams."
[ Parent ]
Based on what? (none / 1) (#93)
by dougmc on Mon Feb 06, 2006 at 09:36:34 PM EST

Were you there? Did you see it? Do you know the author personally, and know that he wouldn't write fiction like this?

If your answer to at least one of these questions isn't `yes', then you really don't know.

The story could be 100% true, it could be almost 100% true, but having happened to somebody other than the author, it could be mostly true with certain facts embelleshed, it could be completely false (with none of the story having ever happened to the author or anybody he knows, even though the general circumstances certainly could have happened to somebody) ... or anything in between.

You cannot tell which it is just by reading the story -- you have to know something more, either having experienced the events personally, reading a police report, knowing the author, etc.

[ Parent ]

+1FP: But... (3.00 / 3) (#41)
by t1ber on Thu Feb 02, 2006 at 03:37:46 PM EST

You're telling me no-one had a gun rack?

My midwest (if we ignore north/south) experience is limited to Texas and Kansas, and while firearms weren't a common accessory to vehicles out there, they weren't unheard of either.  In Texas, for instance, I remember seeing handguns on seats and dashboards.  I live in a fairly urban environment, so the social custom is concealed carry.  In Kansas, most of the farmers would have a longarm (usually a shotgun) in their car simply because it was the social norm to watch the field as they drove past and pop any undesireable animals if they happened to get kicked up by the car.

I'm a firm believer in the idea that an armed society is a police society which would jive with the idea that the amount of fistfights is inverse with the amount of guns in a given area, but I find it sort of strange that a story about life in the midwest wouldn't mention the gun-culture out there.

And she said...
Durka Durka Mohammed Jihad
Sherpa Sherpa Bak Allah
Hadji girl I can't understand what you're saying.

There is a reason for no gun racks... (none / 1) (#42)
by terryfunk on Thu Feb 02, 2006 at 03:47:16 PM EST

in this story. This small part of the state (Jet, Oklahoma)is Mennonite country. Traditionally, they are pacifists and rarely if ever, carried guns of any kind.

Also, originally the term redneck meant you were a farmer or rancher that was out in the sun all day. In that part of Oklahoma this meant that your neck would get sunburned when you are out harversting winter wheat the first part of June.

I like you, I'll kill you last. - Killer Clown
The ScuttledMonkey: A Story Collection

[ Parent ]

Follow up article suggestion (3.00 / 2) (#49)
by t1ber on Thu Feb 02, 2006 at 04:59:32 PM EST

Tell us about the Mennonites.  I'll +1 that if it's as good as this one.

Although I'm getting a chuckle out of the idea that Mennonites (or, more specifically, the children who probably arn't as serious about the culture as the adults are) will pick a fist fight but God forbid they carry a gun.

The Amish around here (I'm a Philadelphia resident) have a few doozy's which include:

  •  Phones are prohibited from being inside the house.  They put the phones on the outside of the house.  No-one has given me a straight answer but apparently the law is written that "there will be no modern trappings in your household".  So it's outside the house -- hold.
  •  They can use rollerblades and rollerskates.
  •  Children can use cars and engines, but fully integrated adults cannot.  I've seen what probably are 12 to 14 year old children driving the family around in trucks.  The police generally ignore the cars as they move no faster then wagons and obey the same rules.  They do, however, have a tendency to overload them to suspension bending levels in an effort to keep the use of it down and generally only haul cargo impractical for a wagon.  Again, when I asked about it, the vehicle was 'co-opted' to the community and they wanted very little to do with it beyond paying someone to maintain it.  (I'm not entirely sure why ownership is forbidden but they can 'rent' this truck -- the explaination was long and without cultural framing, didn't entirely mesh for me).
  •  They do not like to be photographed.
I might spin the Amish topic into an article also, even if I am outside-looking-in.

And she said...
Durka Durka Mohammed Jihad
Sherpa Sherpa Bak Allah
Hadji girl I can't understand what you're saying.

[ Parent ]

Now that would be quite interesting (none / 0) (#50)
by terryfunk on Thu Feb 02, 2006 at 05:21:06 PM EST

and the Mennonites though very similar, are quite different than the Amish in some ways. I did not know this until a few years ago but my surname 'Funk' is a Mennonite name. I traced my geneology back to Lancaster. My branch of the Funks went from Lancaster to West Virginia, over the Cumberland Gap to the Ohio River. Down the Ohio R. and settled in Southern Ohio. That is just one side of the family.

The other side were second generation of a wave of Mennos in the late 1800's. They were a group where a branch went to Manitoba, another group to SW Kansas/NW Oklahoma and a 3rd to Mexico.

Did you see the Harrison Ford movie called Witness that takes place in Amishland?

I like you, I'll kill you last. - Killer Clown
The ScuttledMonkey: A Story Collection

[ Parent ]

You're one Funky motherfucker (none / 0) (#55)
by New Me on Thu Feb 02, 2006 at 06:07:11 PM EST

"He hallucinated, freaked out, his aneurysm popped, and he died. Happened to me once." --Lode Runner
[ Parent ]

I grew up in Amish country. (none / 1) (#51)
by Kal on Thu Feb 02, 2006 at 05:26:28 PM EST

Children can use cars and engines, but fully integrated adults cannot. I've seen what probably are 12 to 14 year old children driving the family around in trucks.

They've got an interesting way of doing things. Children, up until the age of 18, can experience all the modern world they want. At 18 they have to make a choice. Either stay in the modern world or leave it to live in the Amish world.

Suprisingly they get an awful lot of kids coming back to the Amish world but they still lose a good number. To help offset that they've started relaxing some of the rules they have, one reason some have a phone on the outside of their house.

[ Parent ]
Mennos are the same way in that respect... (none / 0) (#54)
by terryfunk on Thu Feb 02, 2006 at 06:05:02 PM EST

and my grandfather decided not to stay a Mennonite when he turned 18. But he never really let loose of the Mennonite roots completely.

And that in itself is quite a story. But it is too personal for me to relate as a story. It exposes way more than I can deal with.

I like you, I'll kill you last. - Killer Clown
The ScuttledMonkey: A Story Collection

[ Parent ]

Aren't they the guys from 'Hellraiser'? [nt] (none / 0) (#71)
by alby on Fri Feb 03, 2006 at 10:35:37 AM EST

[ Parent ]
No no no... (none / 0) (#97)
by ckaminski on Tue Feb 07, 2006 at 12:42:36 PM EST

Those are the Cennobites

[ Parent ]
Only on k5 can you read an exchange like that [nt] (none / 1) (#109)
by BJH on Sun Feb 12, 2006 at 11:12:28 PM EST

Roses are red, violets are blue.
I'm schizophrenic, and so am I.
-- Oscar Levant

[ Parent ]
I knew (none / 0) (#72)
by Comrade Wonderful on Fri Feb 03, 2006 at 10:37:22 AM EST

Amish in Erie, PA who worked as secretaries, basic computer operators, etc.

The general rule as I understand it is that they will use technology as long as there is no danger of them growing dependant on it.  So probably the phone is outside the house so they don't mentally grow to being used to having a phone at hand.

[ Parent ]

Photographs (none / 1) (#77)
by it certainly is on Fri Feb 03, 2006 at 02:23:50 PM EST

They do not like to be photographed.

Duh. The mirror machine steals your soul when it makes its mirror pictures.

kur0shin.org -- it certainly is

Godwin's law [...] is impossible to violate except with an infinitely long thread that doesn't mention nazis.
[ Parent ]

On phones (3.00 / 2) (#90)
by NoBeardPete on Mon Feb 06, 2006 at 11:39:19 AM EST

My understanding of how the Amish approach technology is to ask, "Does this piece of technology make our lives richer, more meaningful, or draw us closer to our families? Or does it isolate us, cheapen our lives, or draw us away from our families? If it lies somewhere in between, is there a way that we can use it differently so as to tilt the balance in favor of the first set of effects?

The explanation I've heard for phones, is that they offer some of both. A phone allows one to keep in touch with family and friends who are far away. This counts as a big plus. It also has a simpler, pragmatic use, in that it allows one to contact suppliers of farm equipment, buyers of agricultural products, emergency services, etc. This is a smaller plus. On the negative side, a phone is often a distraction. If your goal is to spend as much of your time as possible in your home with your family, the phone can be a problem. Your children may prefer to speak with their friends when you feel they should be speaking with you. And god forbid the phone should ring when you are having dinner with your family.

Being fairly thoughtful and resourceful folk, I'm told that the Amish resolved this by deciding that a phone outside of the house is acceptible. If you have a little phone-booth across the field from your home, it can never be an intrusion into your home. The phone will not ring and pull you away from doing something with your family. You can still call suppliers, or find out what the prices in markets are. You can make arrangements to call your aunt or cousin or whoever in the next state, at, say, 4:00 every second Saturday. You can go call, and know they are waiting at their phone. Having to walk across the field to use the phone raises the bar to use a little bit, discouraging frivolous calls. Thus, they feel that they can get the maximum benefit from the telephone with the minimum downside.

I think all of us would do better to stop and deliberatively consider the costs and benefits of different technologies, and to adopt them only insofar as they make our lives better and richer.

Arrr, it be the infamous pirate, No Beard Pete!
[ Parent ]

An armed society is a polite society (2.00 / 3) (#76)
by SFJoe on Fri Feb 03, 2006 at 12:56:54 PM EST

Someone posted this little gem of wisdom: "I'm a firm believer in the idea that an armed society is a police society which would jive with the idea that the amount of fistfights is inverse with the amount of guns in a given area..." This is just about the dumbest statement to come out of the gun nut community. Go down to South Central LA, the South Bronx in NY , Hunter's Point in San Francisco and tell me how fucking polite everyone is in these neighborhoods that are armed to the teeth. I live in a neighborhood where few, if any, people even have guns in their homes, much less carry them. I've yet to see a fistfight or even much impolite behavior amongst people in my neighborhood. Geez - I can't believe some of the dumbass statements some people accept as gospel.

[ Parent ]
South Bronx (none / 1) (#98)
by AngelKnight on Tue Feb 07, 2006 at 05:46:12 PM EST

Not everyone in South Bronx is armed, kid.  Concealed carry is effectively impossible in the 5 boroughs of NYC unless you're a cop or work regularly in the jewelry district.

Don't believe anyone who says absolutely everyone in the South Bronx has a gun.

[ Parent ]

Wait a minute (none / 1) (#112)
by Armada on Mon Feb 13, 2006 at 08:02:25 PM EST

In how many of those locations is it legal to own a unlicensed gun?

Oh wait...

In some places in the Midwest we don't freak out whenever we see someone with a handgun or shotgun. I bet you're one of those pansies that cringes every time you see one in "real life".

Or maybe you're just skeered because of the skin color of the man holding the weapon?

[ Parent ]

Tommy's Down Home (2.00 / 2) (#45)
by LodeRunner on Thu Feb 02, 2006 at 04:14:31 PM EST

I don't smoke marijuana, I don't take LSD
Cause I'm a country boy from Nashville, with my boots up to my knees
I like to sit around and be lazy, I like to drink a lot of beer
Cause I'm a country boy from Nashville, with my hair cut to my ears
I'd like to cut the balls of a long-haired hippy, and tie them up to a tree
Cause I'm a country boy from Nashville, that's Nashville, Tennessee
Well I'm a country boy from Nashville, Tennessee, don't fuck with me

"dude, you can't even spell your own name" -- Lode Runner

By Tesla...../nt (none / 1) (#47)
by terryfunk on Thu Feb 02, 2006 at 04:22:24 PM EST

I like you, I'll kill you last. - Killer Clown
The ScuttledMonkey: A Story Collection

[ Parent ]
Needs more (none / 1) (#58)
by prolixity on Thu Feb 02, 2006 at 08:44:36 PM EST

This was an enjoyable read until the end, when it kind of fizzled out.  If you add more to it, it'd probably do much better in the queue.
that's the thing about true stories (3.00 / 2) (#59)
by LodeRunner on Thu Feb 02, 2006 at 08:48:10 PM EST

You can't just make up a better ending. :)

"dude, you can't even spell your own name" -- Lode Runner
[ Parent ]

Keyboard players (3.00 / 2) (#61)
by LodeRunner on Thu Feb 02, 2006 at 09:15:58 PM EST

I was different, I wore glasses, didn't play sports (...) I was wimpy and didn't fight much.

...and now you post at K5. You didn't even need to tell you're the keyboard player. The keyboardist is always the geek of the band. ;)

(Disclaimer: guess what instrument I play.)

[Reposted as topical. Please 0 the other one.]

"dude, you can't even spell your own name" -- Lode Runner

SKIN FLUET LOL (1.50 / 4) (#70)
by Comrade Wonderful on Fri Feb 03, 2006 at 10:27:22 AM EST

[ Parent ]
Why play keyboards? (none / 0) (#88)
by cibby on Sun Feb 05, 2006 at 08:27:27 PM EST

When you can play the Keytar?

The guy from Lemon Demon

[ Parent ]
keytar (none / 0) (#100)
by LodeRunner on Tue Feb 07, 2006 at 11:55:42 PM EST

That's not actually the correct name for that, I think. I remember a very weird instrument called a "keytar" that was actually a hybrid between a guitar and a keyboard (no, not a guitar synth, that's yet another thing)... there it is. I believe the accepted term for what the guy is holding in the pic is "strap-on keyboard" (sucky name, I know).

And to be honest, a while ago I seriously considered getting myself one. But not an 80s toy-looking one with small keys like the one from the pic; one with regular sized keys (probably a Roland AX-1).

As a "kinda-ex"-guitarist I miss walking around on stage. The thing is, around here strap-on keyboards are very associated to local 80s boy bands that used them a lot here; all my friends laughed when I told them I was about to get one. I used to tell them "wait and see". But then the band split before I got to buy it and I kinda drifted away from the idea soon aftewards. Who knows, if I run across a used one with a good price... could be fun.

"dude, you can't even spell your own name" -- Lode Runner
[ Parent ]

+1 I like it n/t (none / 1) (#63)
by akostic on Thu Feb 02, 2006 at 09:28:53 PM EST

"After an indeterminate amount of time trading insane laughter with the retards, I grew curious and tapped on the window." - osm
good story. (1.00 / 2) (#66)
by headonfire on Fri Feb 03, 2006 at 04:10:35 AM EST

life...  scary sometimes.

-1 (1.50 / 2) (#74)
by bugmenot on Fri Feb 03, 2006 at 10:56:41 AM EST

i prefered your tales of debauchery

submit those


I am living on borrowed time.

To make an out of place comment or not... (1.33 / 3) (#75)
by bighappyface on Fri Feb 03, 2006 at 11:16:43 AM EST

...I forget what it was anyway, so I guess not.

Terry, (none / 1) (#78)
by redqueen on Fri Feb 03, 2006 at 06:16:04 PM EST

Did you used to be a pro-wrestler?

Best "interesting female" (impersonator): redqueen. - sausalito
just a face pic? (none / 0) (#83)
by Cloud Cuckoo on Fri Feb 03, 2006 at 11:34:28 PM EST

Its all or nothing.

[ Parent ]
Okay... (2.16 / 6) (#79)
by sudog on Fri Feb 03, 2006 at 08:56:15 PM EST

So you insult a bunch of rural farmers by calling them names.

Then, the next place you go to you flip off two guys relaxing in the john, who sound like they were just trying to hold back a stomachful of tomato juice and beer and keep from painting the walls of the place a new red. (I mean come *on*; if you thought the mixture was so gross, why the hell would you expect the ones imbibing it to have a sense of humour..  in the john?!)

Then, you're outside and you smash some guy's legs in his car door, your friend pins his arms behind him and throws him back in the poor guy's car, and locks his own car door on him.

Then, your friend goads a group of drunk youths into an illegal street race by *almost* letting them pass you, until they apparently crash and die horribly in a nasty head-on.

I mean I know you're trying to portray yourself in a sympathetic light here, and perhaps using Kuro5hin as some kind of "please forgive me" catharis.. but wow dude.

All I'm thinking is how crappy your band was behaving to a bunch of poor farmers who grow the food that feeds you and have no prospects of bettering their pathetic lives. Way to use your money (your buddy's fast car) to oppress the lower class.

I don't mean to be completely unkind, but all I did reading your story was shake my head. I hope you find forgiveness in some form--but it won't come until you go back there and report yourself, and accept your jailtime.

... assuming this is in fact true and not just fiction from an overactive imagination.

Jail time? Seriously? (3.00 / 3) (#80)
by Gooba42 on Fri Feb 03, 2006 at 09:49:14 PM EST

Jail time?

"I'm turning myself in for a minor altercation with one of the locals about... oh... 30+ years ago. Oh yeah, and my friend was the one drag racing those drunk kids who died on the road that night."

"So you came all this way to do the overnight for drunk and disorderly conduct? Or did your friend come for the reckless driving too?"

[ Parent ]

Aren't you... (2.50 / 2) (#81)
by ElizabethBennett on Fri Feb 03, 2006 at 10:07:30 PM EST

the compassionate one?

[ Parent ]
Usually. (none / 0) (#85)
by sudog on Sun Feb 05, 2006 at 12:44:37 AM EST

I'm having a rough time sympathising with anonymous people these days. I'll have an upturn again soon, promise.

[ Parent ]
I don't blame him. (3.00 / 2) (#82)
by Cloud Cuckoo on Fri Feb 03, 2006 at 11:33:41 PM EST

It takes alot to perform for 3 hours while expecting some assholes, who were entertained for free mind you, to jump you on the way out.

And I bet they were tailing him just to have a civilized chat.  

[ Parent ]

WHOA...D00D!..... (3.00 / 3) (#84)
by FeatheredSerpent on Sat Feb 04, 2006 at 02:00:51 PM EST


Taking your girl on a date fri nite  - $0.10
Cruising Main in your dad's truck    - $0.30/gallon
Listening to live music              - $0.00
Starting a fight in front of your gf - $0.00
Killing your dumbass self chasing someone - $2000.00

Reading the above post after a fri nite
acid trip on a Sat morning           - priceless!

For everything else                  - MasterCard

[ Parent ]

Other than that... (none / 1) (#89)
by terryfunk on Sun Feb 05, 2006 at 08:55:57 PM EST

did you like the story?

I like you, I'll kill you last. - Killer Clown
The ScuttledMonkey: A Story Collection

[ Parent ]
I read it to the end. (none / 0) (#101)
by sudog on Wed Feb 08, 2006 at 02:21:36 AM EST

I don't usually do that. So at least it held my interest. In that sense, I guess I liked it.

[ Parent ]
I appreciate... (none / 0) (#102)
by terryfunk on Wed Feb 08, 2006 at 10:51:52 AM EST

you taking the time to read the story. That counts for a lot.

I also appreciate the comments you made as well.


I like you, I'll kill you last. - Killer Clown
The ScuttledMonkey: A Story Collection

[ Parent ]

Oh. (none / 0) (#104)
by sudog on Wed Feb 08, 2006 at 04:27:15 PM EST

You're welcome.

[ Parent ]
Jail time? (none / 0) (#110)
by tonedevil on Mon Feb 13, 2006 at 01:01:31 AM EST

A low-grade moron gets his low-grade moron friends to chase someone because he flipped him off and gets himself and his idiot friends killed in a head on. This is supposed to make the person who flipped him off guilty? It would have a quite different tone if this were my story; idiots that kill themselves deserve a Darwin Award and nothing more.

[ Parent ]
Remember kids, (2.00 / 2) (#86)
by 7h3647h32in6 on Sun Feb 05, 2006 at 10:06:20 AM EST

drunk driving kills.

Beer and tomato juice (3.00 / 3) (#87)
by catmatic on Sun Feb 05, 2006 at 10:32:56 AM EST

I'm gonna go out on a limb here.

Beer and tomato juice isn't bad.

Just a little tomato juice in your beer is pretty good. As a confirmed beer abuser, I can confirm that the combo will keep you going long after suds alone would. Even better: add a teaspoon of lime juice in with that tomato beer. Yum!

I don't get it... (3.00 / 2) (#94)
by Drog on Mon Feb 06, 2006 at 10:37:32 PM EST

I never played professionally again after that night. I never played those keyboards for a band ever again. My band members never knew why I decided that.

I understand why you felt badly and even guilty about what happened. But what did it have to do with playing keyboards in a band? The accident happened because you got in a bar fight with a drunk guy that later raced you down the highway. If instead you had been, say, playing cards before the altercation at the bar, would you have sworn off playing cards for the rest of your life? Sorry, I just don't get what one has to do with the other.

Looking for political forums? Check out "The World Forum". News feed available here on K5.

Looking back now... (none / 0) (#95)
by terryfunk on Mon Feb 06, 2006 at 10:57:26 PM EST

I would come to the same conclusion. But 30+ years ago I was quite a different person. Obviously, times were different then.

I lived in a small town, the Vietnam war was raging, I had gone to a number of friends funerals who died there. For me, as a teenager, it seemed like the the end of the world.

I was passionate about everything around me, girls, music, the war in Vietnam, cars. I don't think teens today are much different. Even 11+ years later, I was quite a different person.

I like you, I'll kill you last. - Killer Clown
The ScuttledMonkey: A Story Collection

[ Parent ]

Call Me Skeptical (2.25 / 4) (#96)
by Pfeffer on Tue Feb 07, 2006 at 09:10:13 AM EST

According to the timeline in the story, the dance was over no earlier than about 10:30. Add in the time to break down and load the equipment into the trailer, plus fight time, plus drive time, and the alledged accident happened, oh, maybe midnight. Add in the time it takes to discover an accident in a rural area, plus the time to get to a phone and report it (no cellphones back then), response time for emergency crews, plus the time it takes for a reporter to find out and gather details from tight-lipped cops and write the story and get it to his editors. A morning newspaper's deadline is going to be something like 11pm, maybe earlier in the days of typewriters and carbon copies. No way this story would've made the Saturday morning paper.

agreed (none / 0) (#114)
by seisa on Thu Feb 16, 2006 at 12:31:03 AM EST

which is why many of us argued this should have been sectioned 'fiction'.

[ Parent ]
You misspelled y'all (1.00 / 2) (#99)
by FattMattP on Tue Feb 07, 2006 at 07:42:44 PM EST


You misspelled "a href" /nt (2.87 / 8) (#103)
by Ignore Amos on Wed Feb 08, 2006 at 03:55:54 PM EST

And that explains why airplanes carry cargo on small boats floating in their cargo aquarium. - jmzero
[ Parent ]

Re: "a href" (none / 0) (#115)
by FattMattP on Fri Feb 17, 2006 at 01:07:41 AM EST

I didn't put a "a href" in there. I'm from the South. I was just pointing out that the word is spelled "y'all."

[ Parent ]
Holy shit! (none / 0) (#105)
by bighappyface on Fri Feb 10, 2006 at 03:31:51 AM EST

We've been looking for you kids for years!

Expect a visit soon.

Ha Ha (none / 0) (#107)
by Dirty Douche on Fri Feb 10, 2006 at 11:14:15 PM EST

You're lame.

"Those two rags clued us in on how to be and how to look." - you


Proof of your lameness. Sheople are not kewl. Following fads is not kewl.
~ Forever Dirt ~

Don't drink so much (none / 0) (#108)
by JennyB on Sat Feb 11, 2006 at 01:01:20 PM EST

That's all because of drinking so much. That's was the main fault.

Jessica B. As Fit as Fiddle.

lol, dead rednecks [n/t] (none / 1) (#113)
by der on Mon Feb 13, 2006 at 10:32:22 PM EST

Red Necks, Red Dirt and Red Beer... | 115 comments (68 topical, 47 editorial, 0 hidden)
Display: Sort:


All trademarks and copyrights on this page are owned by their respective companies. The Rest 2000 - Present Kuro5hin.org Inc.
See our legalese page for copyright policies. Please also read our Privacy Policy.
Kuro5hin.org is powered by Free Software, including Apache, Perl, and Linux, The Scoop Engine that runs this site is freely available, under the terms of the GPL.
Need some help? Email help@kuro5hin.org.
My heart's the long stairs.

Powered by Scoop create account | help/FAQ | mission | links | search | IRC | YOU choose the stories!