A totally fascinating song for me, given my background as an Army brat periodically dropping-in (between moves across country and overseas) to my beloved red dirt, piney-woods, north Louisiana friends and relatives, a sufficient number of which fit the stereotype of "red-neck." I remember the disdain they expressed and demonstrated for "city boys" and "pencil necks," and the respect that was only earned by fighting (but not necessarily winning). Underlying the hostility toward city boys ( a category I could easily have fallen into except for the fact that I had spent my younger-than-eight-years-old days in those piney woods) was a very subtle feeling of unworthiness and inferiority fed by an often correct suspicion that the city boys thought they were better than "us," but were soft-handed and obviously out of their element in the piney woods. We felt outclassed verbally, but superior physically, so when words and insults failed, fists (and worse) were resorted to. A sad, but true vignette. . .
A totally fascinating song for me, given my background as an Army brat periodically dropping-in (between moves across country and overseas) to my beloved red dirt, piney-woods, north Louisiana friends and relatives, a sufficient number of which fit the stereotype of "red-neck." I remember the disdain they expressed and demonstrated for "city boys" and "pencil necks," and the respect that was only earned by fighting (but not necessarily winning). Underlying the hostility toward city boys ( a category I could easily have fallen into except for the fact that I had spent my younger-than-eight-years-old days in those piney woods) was a very subtle feeling of unworthiness and inferiority fed by an often correct suspicion that the city boys thought they were better than "us," but were soft-handed and obviously out of their element in the piney woods. We felt outclassed verbally, but superior physically, so when words and insults failed, fists (and worse) were resorted to. A sad, but true vignette. . .