Thank God I’m a confused City Boy (who lives in the country)


The Cows Think my minivan is sexy

I was born, raised, and lived most of my life in a major metropolitan area. City boy is a good term and I am not sure at this point whether its something I need to be apologetic about or not. All I know is because I have lived “Up North” most of my life. Have had only a little exposure to farms, cows, hay, pick-up trucks (never owned or operated one in my life), living “Down South”, or in the “country”.

My lovely bride and I recently moved to the Southern portion of our great nation within the last month. I was fully warned (and then some) by my sister of the culture shock I may possibly experience. The pace is slower (unless your driving then you better pick up the speed or get ran over) and so is the speech pattern of most folk (I feel that’s an appropriate term). People like to talk to you randomly, are actually friendly, out going and this freaks out most of us city people who are convinced they are up to something (I personally blame movies like “Children Of The Corn” for this phenomenon).

We have highways, freeways, and outer-belts in the city. They are highly congested with cars, car exhaust, painfully slow little old men in hats (with their left blinker on), slow little old women (with their right blinker on), speed demon morons, four wheel snow driving pin heads, plenty of head aches and Road rage. They have “highways” (only because of the comparison I use the term loosely) in the country. They are certainly not as congested, have a tendency to have more cows, farms, men (and women) in overall’s, and a lot less Star Bucks, CVS’s, Fast food places, gas stations, and Mega-Big box stores every five feet.

My drive to work is more scenic now. I have less cars, people, and urban blight to gaze upon and more of God’s beauty. The stuff that confuses me is when I am driving (what my city saturated mind would consider) down a “country” road and then find a speed bump. Don’t ask me why my obviously snooty britches mind would not expect country folk to want to protect their school age (or otherwise) children (or crazy uncle Ed.. Bless his heart) from being plowed over by (well.. a plow) a John Deer tractor or Pick up truck going a bazillion miles and hour. My sister also blew my mind by telling me they have a transport service that actually can be arranged for the elderly, or disabled. So again I find myself feeling pretty crappy that I obviously am assuming that sunshine just got pumped down here. Pardon me folk’s, I am truly am a cityiot.

Next time you become famous: make sure you secretly write a tell all memoir


Is it me? Or does it seem like with a year, to 2-3 years after someone famous dies someone finds a “secret” diary they kept, a hidden “unpublished” manuscript of some kind, a “unrecorded” song, or a “undiscovered” tell all memoir?

Then there are the nannies, personal chef’s, gardeners, butlers, personal assistants, personal assistants to the personal assistants, shoe shiners, trash taker outers, cat wranglers, dog walkers, garden hose security detail, food getters, chia pet mentors, pet monkeys, body image coaches, and personal scrap book therapists who also have a tendency to want to cash in, have their 15 minutes of fame, and write their own version of events that no one can prove or disprove.

This is how movies on the Life Time network with Joanna Kerns with titles like “All the chia pets she ever needed”, “Romancing the garden hose”, “Heaven’s shoe shiner”, and “Poor little pet money girl” get started. Add a guest appearance from Wilford Brimley, or Betty White as the wise grand-person and then you can get the Oprah seal of approval.

Its been 4 years since Michael Jackson died and I am still convinced Bubbles the chimp is chomping at the bit to write his own tell all book. I can only hope for Joanna Kern’s sake she is busy with another project because I have bad feeling who might be cast as bubbles in the Life Time movie adaptation.