When most people see car crashes, they rubberneck. Not me. I redneck. Let me explain. Today, I put on my wife-beater tank top, grabbed my bottle of moonshine, and sat down to watch some good ol' NASCAR. (Okay, it wasn't whiskey, it was a bottle of the Sprite remix. I like the original Sprite better. And I do not like the orange Mountain Dew.) Nothing better than a bunch of guys trying to outrun each other going in a circle. It was an exciting race (exciting = lots of crashes), and even though Jeff Gordon didn't win the million dollars, he did one heck of a job to finish as high as he did.

To get myself in the redneck spirit while watching the race, I even assembled a 1:64 scale model of the General Lee from the Dukes of Hazards. It's die cast metal with a hood that opens. It is currently on display with my Jeff Gordon car collection.

On the way to our church retreat, we used to play a game called 'Find the Rednecks.' Not a very politically correct game, but we needed something to do during our 4 hour drive in the vans. If you spotted someone who might be a redneck, you got a point. There are several ways to get bonus points: one bonus point for wearing a wife-beater, one bonus point for driving a pickup truck, one additional point if he has a dog in his truck, and four bonus points if he has a shotgun in the truck. I haven't been able to go to the church retreat in a few years, so I don't know if they still play.

(editor's note: The use of the term 'redneck', though categorizied as an offensive slang, is not meant to be used as such in the previous post.)