Ronald the “Redneck”
By Richard E. Noble
Very shortly after I arrived in Eastpoint I met Ronald. Ronald was a very blunt, outspoken individual. He always reminded me of the cartoon character Foghorn Leghorn, the giant rooster. Ronald bellowed and blustered everything he said just like Foghorn Leghorn. You might ask him to repeat what he had just said but it was never because he didn’t say it loud enough or with adequate authority.
One of his annoying little habits came with my introduction to any of his friends or relatives. He would introduce me in the following manner; “This is my friend Richard Noble,” and no sooner would his relative or friend grab my hand when he would add, “He’s a Yankee.”
I would give him my annoyed and frustrated look and when he would look into my eyes and see my anger he would laugh uproariously. He did this each and every time he introduced me to anyone. It was obvious that he thought this to be very funny. I don’t know what made him laugh the most, the Yankee part or my annoyed response, but whatever, he just loved it.
Finally the opportunity came for me to introduce Ronald to one of my buddies. I said; “This is my good friend Ronald,” and just as Ronald and my buddy went to shake hands, I added, “He’s a Redneck.”
When Ronald heard someone call him a Redneck, it didn’t set any better with him than Yankee suited me.
So from that time forward, as long as Ronald persisted in introducing me as a Yankee, I returned the favor with my Redneck qualifier.
Ronald kind of lived in his own country. In Ronald’s America the word freedom took on a whole new curious interpretation. He had a truly interesting perspective with regards to drinking and driving I thought. I’ll let him explain:
“Now every man that is worthy to call himself a man has a little drink every now and then. I drink a little myself. Why even Jesus Christ drank a little wine. But I’m more partial to beer myself. Congressmen and Senators, they drink too. Why every other week one of them is found in some motel as drunk as a skunk with some bimbo. Sure, half the time they get it all covered up, but everybody knows. But what really gets me is this drunken drivin’ business. My god, what man that’s worth his sweat can’t drive a pickup truck and drink at the same time? I’ve been drivin’ and drinkin’ since I was nine years old out on my daddy’s tractor. And what’s wrong with it?
“All these pointy heads out there try to tell you that if you drink while you’re drivin’ your drivin’ is “impaired.” Impaired my foot! Why I drive even better when I’m drunk than I do when I’m sober.”
“Oh come on Ronald, that’s impossible.”
“Heck it is! I swear, I drive better when I’m drunk than when I’m sober.”
“You see when a man is sober, he don’t hardly pay no attention. I mean there he is going down the road jibber-jabbering, laughin’ and talkin’. There he goes with a cup of coffee in one hand and a cheese burger in the other, or smoking a cigarette or something or the other. He ain’t paying no dang attention. But when a man is drunk ... why dang it when a man is drunk he knows that he’s drunk. He has to pay attention. He has all he can do to keep between them dang lines. And if he don’t, why he’s over in a ditch before you can say Ty Cobb. I mean if you are drunk and you are trying to stay on some interstate going 70 miles an hour, you’d best be paying attention boy! If you ain’t, why you could end up dead with your body wrapped around some dang telephone pole.
“And I’m going to tell you another thing. When I’m drunk as a congressman drivin’ home on some dark road in the middle of the night, the last thing that I need is some dufus cop over there hiding behind some billboard. I mean why kain’t he sit out there in the open like a man? I mean I’m nervous enough drivin’ drunk as a skunk and trying’ my best to see where the heck I’m goin’ sos I don’t kill myself. Why the very last thing I need on top of all of that is some silly, sneakin’ cop hiding over there someplace making me more nervous. Don’t them dang po’leece know that drivin’ drunk makes a man nervous enough and that we sure don’t need them sneaking around out there in the woods trying to get us more upset than we already are? If that ain’t the dumbest thing them po’leece could ever do!”
“Well, you sure do have a point there Ronald. I guess I never really thought about it in that light.”
“No, sure you haven’t. Nobody ever does. And that’s what’s wrong with this country, all the jails are plum full with innocent drunken drivers; they ain’t hardly got no room for any real criminals.”
“Here here! You know Ronald, you ought to run for the Senate or something.”
“You’re dang right. I think I should too!”
Richard E. Noble is a Freelance Writer and has been an “Eastpointer” for around thirty years now. He has authored two books: “A Summer with Charlie” which is currently listed on Amazon.com and “Hobo-ing America” which should be listed on Amazon in the not too distant future. Most recently he completed his first novel “Honor Thy Father and Thy Mother” which will be published soon.
