Yes, I know that I haven't posted in months. Sorry, but between starting a new job and everything else associated with getting older, I just haven't been able to hack out any thoughts.
A few weeks ago, I was listening to the radio as I drove. A song came on that hit a nerve. I called my older son and asked, "Hey, have you heard "Redneck Crazy" by Tyler Farr?" He had not. I told him, "Been there, done that, bought all of the t-shirts." He just laughed.
A few days later, he and his family came to our house for dinner. As soon as they arrived, he used my laptop to bring up the video of "Redneck Crazy". It stars the guys from "Duck Dynasty", whatever that may be. The video is funny.
So here's my "Redneck Crazy" story. It was New Year's Eve, 1977. It was 6:23 when the phone rang at my apartment. It was my girlfriend of almost three years. She started rambling about something and talked a few minutes before I said, "Honey, I'm supposed to pick you up at 7:00. What are you trying to tell me?" She replied, "I think that we need to date other people." I responded,"When should we start this?" She said, "I have a date for tonight."
To this day, more than 35 years later, that moment remains my definition of "blind rage". After about three hours, I was calm enough to drive. I went out and ate dinner. After dinner, I rode by the house that she shared with her sister. Parked in front of the house was a Ford truck that I recognized as belonging to a guy who was a regular customer at the restaurant she managed.
I am not a man prone to physical violence so I ruled out destroying the truck with a sledge hammer or by burning it. I did have a plan B. I went home and got a few tools. I went back and removed the tires and wheels and left the truck sitting on the ground. I put the wheels into the bed of the truck. I wanted to make sure that they realized that this was not just some random act of vandalism, so I removed the valve cores from the valve stems on the tires. I duct taped those to the windshield. I headed home.
At home, I gathered up all of her things that were at my apartment and placed them outside by the door. I then went to bed and slept the contented sleep of a satisfied crazed man. My sleep was interrupted by a call at 2:30 A.M. which started with a woman screaming, "Gil Jones, you son of a bitch!!". I replied, "Mary, whatever are you talking about?" The conversation spiraled downhill pretty quickly and ended with her slamming the phone down.
YEP!!! "Redneck Crazy", thirty five years before the song. Art imitates life.