In some ways, I’m more in tune with my hillbilly roots than most people. Potted meat is still my favorite food. I put peanuts in my Coke. I still chew tobacco. Most of you probably don’t know that, but I started chewing Redman at age 12, and now I can’t write without a chaw. And I write a lot. I still catch about any wild animal I find, especially snakes, because I can’t help myself. And I really, really hate city clothes.
I still do all my home repairs, including plumbing, electrical, and even entire constructions. The same with auto repairs. It’s not that I can’t afford to hire a professional to do these things; I’m just too thrifty. It goes against my core beliefs as a hillbilly not to take care of things myself. When I was a kid, I thought “A Country Boy Can Survive” was the national anthem.
However, there are some things about me that are the opposite of a kid reared on Sand Mountain. When I was in my early 20s, a young couple from Fort Payne invited me to dinner. I happily accepted. When I arrived, they told me they had prepared the meal in honor of my mountain upbringing. Uh oh. Yes, the entire meal was just vegetables, and they only had sweet tea to drink. As most of you know by now, I hate vegetables and sweet tea.
I have never been deer hunting in my life. I don’t have a problem with people who do, but for me, I can’t stand the thought of killing something so beautiful. Beauty might not even be the factor. If a bee gets in my house, I will catch it with my bare hands and take it outside to release it. I did go dove hunting a few times, but never shot one. I can’t say for sure if it was because of my disdain for killing or if it was due to my horrible aim.
My dad always seemed out of place on Sand Mountain to me, although he was raised right there in Blake. He seemed more worldly than most. He had traveled some, but nowhere the Army didn’t send him. But, while other farmers at the market wore overalls and wanted to talk about the weather, Dad wore dress clothes and wanted to discuss supply-side economics. Yet, he only drank Jersey milk, believed in old country remedies, and even preferred to churn his own butter.
I must have inherited that internal conflict. When I’m living in the country, I miss all the things you can do in the city. When I’m living in a city, I miss the country.