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June 08, 2012

I Heart Hillbillies


I'm going through a silly phase right now, a hillbilly phase, as it were.

I've gone through obsessive phases for as long as I can remember: Celtic phase, Disney phase, musical phase, fantasy phase, vampire phase (before Twilight, I might add), Tom Cruise phase, Ian Thorpe phase, the list goes on.

The reason behind this hillbilly phase is the History channel's Hatfields & McCoys. Eric and I had seen a trailer for it when we were in Seattle, and I've been looking forward to it ever since.

Now, I was all kinds of ill this weekend owing to "Scarlett coming home to Tara." This is a pretty accurate representation of how my "time of the month" typically goes:

I'm a redhead now, by the way.

My periods have never been ideal, as depicted by the drawings. My ovaries like to be big, fat jerks. But this last weekend, they were in full force. They went completely Rambo on me and were taking no prisoners!


I think they were displeased with me for using modern day science to delay my period for a week. Their displeasure was palpable. I was pretty much on bed rest all weekend. This period ranks pretty high on my "worst period ever" list.

You're probably wondering what this abominable period has to do with my hillbilly phase. Well, not only was I sick and crampy enough to be pretty certain that I wasn't going to be making it to church on Sunday, but even during my typical periods my ovaries like to party it up all night and turn me into an insomniac (worse than I usually am).
I don't know why I'm so amused by personifying my ovaries.
So with this rabid, mutant period I was having, I was certain I would be getting little to no sleep Saturday night. So mine and Eric's Sunday was going to be spent watching Hatfields & McCoys, along with my dear old friend, Mr. Hotpad. It's a three part mini series. So we needed a good amount of time to watch it.

I was already really excited to watch Hatfields & McCoys, but when I pass over into the wee hours of the morning, I enter a zone in which I get absurdly excitable. It probably didn't help that I was doped up on Midol.

In anticipation for watching Hatfields & McCoys when Eric woke up, I was looking up all of the Hatfield and McCoy stuff online I could find. I'd already watched the trailers, but because of the "excitable zone," I was watching them over and over and working myself up into an excited frenzy.



The trailers are so well made! And I love the song they use. It works so well. It's called Bartholomew by The Silent Comedy. Eric and I have been listening to it non stop all week.

Without ruining too much of the story for myself, I was also reading about the Hatfield-McCoy feud on Wikipedia. This was also getting me outrageously excited because I couldn't believe that this was actually the story! That this was actual history that happened. Absolutely outrageous!

By the time 8:00 rolled around, I was still awake and acting like a kid on Christmas. I couldn't wait for Eric to wake up!

I eventually decided, however, that I needed to sleep. I couldn't handle my excitement or waiting for Eric to wake up any longer, and I was getting a headache. 

I had been sleeping for less than an hour when some noise woke both Eric and me up. I thought it was wake-up time, and I got excited all over again! I told Eric all about my late night hillbilly excitement and how painful it had been to wait for him to wake up so that we could watch Hatfields & McCoys. But Eric was in no way ready to wake up yet and was very bewildered by my exuberance, to say the least.

I couldn't make myself fall back asleep again. It was hard enough the first time. So I just stayed up and chatted with my mother online, who was also sick and staying home from church. 

Finally, Eric woke up! And we were off to watch the hillbillies!
Eric and I both enjoyed Hatfields & McCoys immensely! Ever since we watched it, Eric and I haven't been able to stop ourselves from talking with Southern accents and throwing hillbilly slang in our everyday conversation: reckon, yonder, y'all, tarnation, fetchin', howdy, etc...

And I've got to imagine that since it was done by the History channel it's fairly accurate too. There are some things I have my doubts about, but for the most part, it seems like it is accurate. The casting crew took some liberties, though, I'm sure. You know, with this being the movie version of Johnse Hatfield and Roseanna McCoy:
And this being the real life Johnse Hatfield and Roseanna McCoy: 

The same goes for other characters as well.

And I love Kevin Costner and Bill Paxton as the hillbilly clan leaders. I just loved so much about this movie.

I definitely would recommend this mini series. 

Eric and I weren't done with hillbillies after we finished Hatfields & McCoys, though (it was mostly me who wasn't). So now we are watching the TV series Justified. I've wanted to watch it for quite a while now because my mom and brother watch it, and I watched a bit of it with them over Christmas and quite liked it. The timing was perfect to start watching it now, though, what with my hillbilly phase. Eric and I are loving Justified! How could you not love this swaggery U.S. Marshal?
Raylan Givens, or as Eric and I like to call him, Ray-Ray.

And that is the silly, obsessive phase I'm going through right now, hillbillies, all thanks to Hatfields & McCoys

Who knew I enjoyed bluegrass music so much! I also really want to go horseback riding now, and I'm suddenly very proud of my own somewhat redneck  heritage. 

I shall now conclude this post with one of my favorite and most amusing redneck/whitetrash memories. It may not be amusing to everyone, but it sure is amusing to me, and I'm sure my mom will get a kick out of it as well.

When I was little, my family had a barbecue at my grandma's house. My grandma's house is really close to my parents' house. So my dad had brought our barbecue over to her backyard. When the barbecue was over, my mom and I walked the short distance home through an empty lot behind my grandma's house. While we were walking, we saw my dad putt-putting down the street on a lawn mower with the barbecue hooked to the back while a little grease can that was attached to the barbecue swung back and forth.

Dimensions are hard.
My mom and I both gave each other a bewildered look, and then I said:

Upon which we both started laughing uproariously.

Oh, how I love my pa; and I do actually call him pa, that's not just part of my hillbilly phase. It started out as a joke to me alone, and then I just started to always call him pa.

And now I miss Raymond and my own hick family. Can't wait to see you all soon!