Tuesday, December 28, 2004

Uncle Daddy & Aunt Momma

I don’t think you grasp just how hillbilly my childhood was. I’m not talking about swimming in the rat infested bayou (pronounced BYE-YOU for you yanks who don’t know any better), or mowing our back yard with a Suburban or having spool races on those gigantic wooden spools my old man would bring home from the paper mill, or spending two months trying to housebreak a pig. No, that’s just superficial shit. The real meat and potatoes of true hillbillyhood goes much deeper than that.

Next door to us, and by that I mean the house a couple of acres over, was a family of five. The wife was 300 lbs and scraping the bottom side of 5 feet tall. Her teeth were rotten, nothing out of the ordinary, and her hair was a lovely bottled blonde. The husband spoke no English. Nothing you’d find in a book, at least. “Uh, mmhu uhuo ouhhm uhhhm.” Ignorant bastard. And if his crippled linguistics was not handicap enough that motherfucker had an afro bigger than that Justin kid from American Idol a few years ago.

On a side note, one summer I was showing off for a girl, being the man and shit. I was about 10 and she was an older woman, maybe almost 13. She had boobies. I was sitting on my bike on the bridge over the gully, which is a not so fancy word for "shit river" since there was no city plumbing out there. In an effort to show off my skills I was balancing my bike while sitting still, my feet up in the air. Unfortunately, I was not as cool as I thought, lost my balance and fell 15 feet to land face first in the River O’Shit flowing beneath in a humiliating, squishy splat. It was Dufus from next door who heard the commotion and jumped the fence line, climbed down into the gully and scooped me and all the liquefied fecal matter up into his arms. He carried me a ½ mile to my house, talking the whole way. “Uh, mmhu uhuo ouhhm uhhhm.” I didn’t understand one goddamn word he said, but nevertheless I was grateful for the rescue even though nothing could salvage my pride.

So back to the proof of hillbillyship, the wife’s sister and that woman's husband decided the New Yorker lifestyle was just not for them. Too many hookers, they said. Can’t say that I blame them. Who wouldn’t envy all that we had?

The husband stayed behind in NYC to finish up his notice at his job while the sister and her two urchins moved down ahead of him, staying with Dufus and Dumbo next door. One thing led to another and baddabing-baddaboom the sister was banging Dufus behind her sibling’s back. Well, of course she was. Look at him. He was a fucking lady killer with that ‘fro and “Uhh, mmhuh uhhh umhm” sweet-nothings shit he was always mumbling. We all saw it coming the day the sister was spotted nude sunbathing on the kids' trampoline in the front yard. Now I don’t want to plant the wrong impression here. The sister had just as many rotten teeth as Dumbo. She was skinny, but it didn’t matter if she was lying on her front or back, it was all the same, if you know what I mean.

So Dumbo comes home one day to find her Romeo ram shafting kid sister in a slow comfortable screw up against the wall. Shit hits the fan, shots are fired and naked people take off in both directions down the street. But time heals all wounds and eventually things settled down. Brother-in-law found out about the affair and didn’t bother leaving NYC after all. Dumbo divorced Dufus, which freed him up to marry the newly divorced sister. So now, these two kids of the sister’s and three kids of the husband’s are cousins/siblings. Uncle Daddy, Aunt Momma and Cousin Brother/Sister. Oh, but it gets better. Sister and husband have a child of their own. Nobody in the whole fucking family knew whether the baby was a cousin or brother so they called him Bubba-cuz.

Dumbo went on to live the wild and rowdy lifestyle of a newly unshackled woman for about 10 years. I’m not sure if she ever remarried, but I heard about a year ago she was killed in a car accident. She left life insurance for her three kids. One bought a new trailer home, one bought new boobs, and the boy lost his share at the casino in Lake Charles, La in a matter of weeks. Now that’s one fucked up hillbilly family.

In light of my childhood exposures, makes me seem all the more impressive, huh? It's all relative.