Thursday, February 26, 2015

Does a Hick Pee In the Woods?

Today we wrap up Val’s continuing series on “Beer and Bro-Things in Backroadsia.” Wrap it up in shiny tastefully-patterned paisley gift paper, and tie it with a festive floppy silky red bow. Or, here in Backroads, dump it in a Walmart bag and tie the loops in a knot. You there! Stop cheering. You can never get enough info about Val. TMI does not exist in her vocabulary. Nor does IRONIC.

Let it never be said that Hick doesn’t have a pot to piss in. Hick has a plethora of pots to piss in. Though how he keeps from making a mess with those pots hanging from the roof of his Creekside cabin is BEEYOOOOND me. You can clearly see that the snow behind them is not yellow. So Hick must have a double-secret method that he’s keeping under his hat. That background is pure as…as…the roof-slumped snow.

Also in this shot is the mini barn. Hick built it even before the mini pony was a gleam in his eye. I suppose he fancied bartering for some mini chickens and mini goats. WAIT! He already had banty chickens and those knee-high goats. So I suppose he knew what he was doing. Even if none of the animals ever stepped talons or hooves into the mini barn.

You might think that little building in the background is the outhouse. Nope. It's out of range. Remember, a lady reveals nothing. It wouldn't be polite to brag about one's outhouse. Nope. That li'l ol' structure is a…is a…STRUCTURE! According to The Pony, "It's that building Dad made so he could put old license plates around the walls." Uh huh. Hick built a building solely for the outside walls. Go ahead. Try to feign surprise.

Again, we have the woodshed. I daresay Hick must have accrued many hours in the woodshed as a boy. Or not. Because as a lad, he was sometimes less than truthful. His mom was in the hospital a lot, and his dad was blind. So it wasn’t too hard to put one over on them. Unlike Val’s parents, who every night cleaned their calabash pipe and polished its meerschaum bowl, and brushed their deerstalker hat free of lint.

Hick saw no reason that his dad should know he was suspended from school for lighting a fire on the vocational school bus. “The heater didn’t work!” he declared, righteously. “We was just trying to get warm. So we took the trash can at the back of the bus, and set the stuff on fire. And I’ll be darned if the bus driver didn’t see us!” Since his family had no phone, Hick waited for the discipline notice to come in the mail. He didn’t mention it to his dad, but took it so his brothers wouldn’t read it. Then he got up every morning, at the regular time, and went and sat in the woods until school was out.

Hick has always been at home in the woods.


  1. Let's hope the weather wasn't like it is now when he spent those long days in the woods!
    My recent days spending time with my dad were filled with stories. He told me about skipping school once. He lived in Philadelphia and his dad was a police officer. He said he decided to get off the bus and circle back to a street vendor selling big pretzels. He used his lunch money and said he was just walking down the sidewalk enjoying his mustard smeared pretzel, when his dad pulled alongside and asked what he was doing! He spent the day riding in the squad car with his dad and they never told Grandmom about it. My Grandpop was a big hearty man with a roaring laugh, he loved life and nothing bothered him except Grandmom being annoyed with his antics.

  2. You had me laughing from the very first sentence:) Thanks for that. B

  3. Looks like you could play many a song on those pots, all you need is a spoon.

  4. And you wonder why he has the desire for outbuildings? He is afraid you may banish him to the woods. Lots of pots there!

  5. Gary Paulsen has made a fortune over stories like that. Perhaps you need to be Hick's scribe so he can get his stories down?

  6. Kathy,
    Mmm...I want a big pretzel! I'm having a medium pretzel now. A stick of pretzel bread from the local expired-food grocery store, but I checked the date, and it was good for two days when I bought it last Saturday. It's been in Frig II, so I think it's still okay. Anyhoo...I'm having it with some tuna salad, which is not quite as good as a big pretzel with mustard on a self-made day off from school.

    Good thing we don't have pretzel vendors around here. because my mom would have gone after me with the wire flyswatter handle if I had pulled that stunt in school. Even thought I WAS valedictorian.

    You're welcome. Believe it or not, it is sometimes my goal to make people laugh.

    The pots would have to be filled with different amounts That way they could play different notes. I wonder what Hick would find to fill them with. Certainly not the runny part of soup.

    I think Hick has his secondary residence covered. The BARn and the creekside cabin and his A-frame creekside cabin should do. He could even move from one to the other in case I was after his hide. Let's hope nobody reads that as LOTS OF POT.

    Hick has done nothing interesting like land a plane in a lake and eat worms and fight a bear. He has, however, landed a 5th-wheel trailer hitch on his foot, necessitating toe surgery, and eaten undercooked roadkill turkey, and walked from the hot tub through the house bare.

    I don't think those stories are suitable for adolescents.