The Real Redneck

On our web site at work, comments have been going back and forth for days about who is a real redneck. It's understandable, since my newspaper deals with readers from the top corner of the state - readers who are isolated from the rest of the world, at times.

It goes something like this...
"You're a redneck, because you have to go check on your chickens every hour."
"No, I'm just a farmer. You're a redneck because you don't know how to spell and your mom never taught you how to read."
"Everyone from Winsted is a redneck, including Ralph Nader."
"All you rednecks should stop posting here as you are insulting the real readers."

Tonight, I think I saw one of them - a real redneck.

A real redneck, is someone who drives an old pick-up truck of undetermined color with piles of old tires in the back covered with snow. In a drive-through at McDonald's at 2 a.m., the real redneck gets out of his car, slams the driver's side door shut from the outside, then runs around to the passenger side and climbs in, so he can slide back over to the driver's side and drive off. It's the only way his driver's side door will close, because it is really crooked on its hinges.

A real redneck doesn't think twice about this, as it happens every day in his world.