My dad is a hillbilly, but further south and deeper in the Ozarks than
@Briar Lee. My dad also has less teeth, not being a lawyer and all. But to your point, yes, boys and gals from the Ozarks tend to be very affable, engaging, and FULL of S...stories. What, you thought I was going to say something else? Well, they are full of that too, I suppose. For them, the truth isn't in the accuracy of the description so much as it is in the metaphors, idioms, and hyperbole of the story. After awhile, you can find their way of describing something is just as relevant, and maybe more accurate, than a description of any particular data set. My dad meets with the men several times a week for breakfast and coffee. I've sat with him at a few of those gatherings and wow, the storytelling is rampant, even about the most minor of events that may have or may not have happened that week. The men are able to intuitively decipher what is being said and while hyperbole is 90% of the story, they know exactly what is being said and what is not being said. The entertaining way of talking makes the truth of the story easier to go down with the biscuits and coffee. True natives of the Ozarks are a very different type of hillbilly than I have found from those who live in the Appalachians. There are some similarities of course, but the culture and poverty of the Ozarks and the Boston Mountains seems to have some real differences. I imagine the men who live in the outback might have some similarities to those who live deep in the Ozarks. One thing is for sure, they seem much more happier and don't wear their sensitivities on their sleeves. I appreciate people who enjoy who they are and are able to laugh about it.
True parable:
The Christians (they use no other description between themselves) of Southwest Missouri believe to the very existence of their immortal souls, as sure and certain as they are of being sentient, that they are In His Service.
Imagine having the certain knowledge you have some kind of God’s body camera on 24/7 that records your every act, thought, deed, and what you DON’T DO.
It might tend to improve your behavior.
My mother’s brother Jiggs (named Sy Thomas in his mother Ma Agee’s Ma and Pa series in The Index and Jethro Bodine in the Beverley Hillbillies inspired by it) lived in North Kansas City, across the Missouri River.
The entire clan used to congregate on Sunday afternoons at Ma Agee’s home in Hermatige Missouri, where we’d play and sing old songs, about life.
Once in the morning and again of evening my father was privileged to milk his cows. We took off a week a year to vacation in Colorado Springs, leaving Sunday after church and returning Staturday afternoon in time for the Humansville stock car races. This required a substitute milker.
But once when I was about eight, during the week my father had Edgar Proctor milk and we drove to Kansas City to visit Uncle Jiggs and Aunt Bobbie and my cousins for a few days.
Driving though downtown Kansas City was the first time I saw my father and mother afraid. They had me lock my doors in the back seat.
I was just astonished people lived like that.
I enjoyed my visit to Kansas City, but on the way home I asked:
Daddy, how do they keep all those people inside Kansas City?
Why don’t they escape?
He turned around and said, chasing that dollar bill, keeps them there.
Besides, they don’t believe places like Humansville exist.