Honestly, I have no clue if this person is a Republican. His neck is certainly red enough (that’s a JOKE!) but I will fully admit that I don’t really know how red his neck is in real life. It is undoubtedly an effect of the dark lighting at the Green Dot and the Instagram app filter I used. I will also say that when I posted this on Instagrinch, I didn’t tag the Green Dot. I tagged “Detroit, Michigan”. You never know who sees what on Instagrinch and I figger this guy is a lot less likely to see himself in “Detroit, Michigan” than in the “Green Dot Stables”. I did like his “Beer for All” statement and I highly doubt he follows my boring blahg of blather.

So seeing a “redneck” brings back memories of the one trip I took with family members out to downhill ski in Colorado. We went to Steamboat Springs. This would be my extended family (too long a story for this entry) so aunts/uncles and cousins, etc. Eight of us drove out in my uncle’s huge van (license plate BGY747) and others joined us out there.

I had somehow amassed enough money to buy a new ski “outfit”, which turned out to be a LOVERLY white and green affair, overalls with a cute short jacket (I was young and skinny then) and a matching green ski sweater to boot. But then… I had just gotten off the lift at the top of the mountain and was heading downhill when the tip of one of my ANCIENT skis broke (Hart Hornets, if anyone remembers those). I “limped” down the mountain successfully with my broken ski but then GUESS WHAT? I need new skis too! Money? Uh, yeah. This was not a planned expense.

Fortunately for me, my dad was one of the family members who met us out there at Steamboat Springs. He drove with his bank buddy Mr. Quack. Dad never did downhill skiing in the time I knew him but he did do X-C (like me in my adult life). But he was there, so he bought me some new Olin Mark 3s. I got rid of all those old skis a long time ago but they wouldda made good chairs. But who knew?

At Steamboat Springs there were a few of us who would walk from our condo down into town at night and hit the bars. Mostly me and the Grinch. One night me and Grinch were down there and some band was playing a rendition of Up Against the Wall You Redneck Mother. This song absolutely cracked me up! I didn’t really listen to country music in those days, so I hadn’t ever heard it. And then, because the Grinchie and I were young and “cute” (or whatever) somebody bought us a beer or whatever. That cute couple? Nah, we have loved each other since we were 3 (me) and 6 (Grinch) fighting over smoked fish in the back seat of our grandfather’s Studebaker with our dads smoking ceegars in the front. We don’t look a lot alike but we are cousins, not a couple.

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