Values in the 30123: Basic Truths for the Cassville in all of us

What a year 2012 has been so far. We are literally setting records at work, leaving me no time for fun/blogging/decompression. For that, I apologize, as I have had some complaints. I appreciate the complaints because it means y'all are actually reading these dang things! I promise to get back on schedule and fill your lives with Cassville appreciation, sarcasm and as always, love for the Dawgs and hate for our enemies.

Anyhow, as I was sitting at my desk this week, I thought about values. I know we are not born with values, we are only born with basic instincts. Our values are created by our environment and our interactions with each other. These interactions all crash together in our cerebral cortex like Dick Trickle in the third turn at Talladega, mix with what our parents told us, along with hormones and there you have it. I know we are told throughout our educated lives that we are all the same "deep down," but I'm here to tell you....that is a crock. That is the most preposterous statement I've heard since a Yankee once told me that "sugar makes grits taste better, buddy"  Take your sacrilege back to Minnesota along with the "buddy" crap. We are not the same, nor will we ever be. Each culture has its own set of values and basic truths that they observe, without fail. That is the definition of "deep down" and I know from observing Cassville natives that we are not like anyone else.

Here are some basic truths that every Cassvillian must observe:

1) There is only God. Anything else is wrong and anyone who doesn't believe that should be taken "out back"  and beaten. ("Out back" is a wonderful Southern colloquialism. "Out back" is a ubiquitous area where certain offenders are taken and physically manhandled by an individual or a group who disagrees with said offender. You won't find any kangaroos in this outback......only Darryl, Dwayne and all their uncles and cousins, ready to pummel you. Any non-Cassvillian needs to avoid "out back" as much as possible.)

2) Speaking of God, Dale Earnhardt sits at His right hand, espousing the virtues of Intimidation and putting sinners into the wall like Darrell Waltrip at Daytona. It is also Sterling Marlin's fault that Dale wrecked and died. Disagree with that, you'll be "out back" before you can say "I wonder if the far (fair) will be in the Big Lots parking lot this year?"

3) The Far (Fair). Everyone must go. No exceptions. You must also come back to Cass Grocery to discuss all prizes won at the bottle cap throwing station, any altercations with your ex-spouse who was there with his/her new squeeze and of course, how bad "them young'ns" were whilst waiting for the Ferris Wheel. At least one of them must receive a "whuppin'" in line, showing everybody runs the show in your house (or double wide).

4) "Whuppins" are an acceptable form of punishment, whether it be public or private. Public is preferred actually. FYI, the bathroom at Cass Grocery was the site of many whuppins. That room was like the Tower of London. All it took was a kid whining about not getting candy, and the kid's "Diddy" would look at me and say, "Can I borree (borrow) y'alls bathroom?" Nothing in the world can prepare you for a double negative infused, profanity laced tirade about Kit Kat bars: "Don't you NEVER gotdam whine at me like 'at (that) in this store. The damn race is on and we gotta git back. You ain't gettin nuthin! Shane! Cody! Y'all go get in the damn truck!" They storm out, buy their Natty Light and lay drag on their way home.

It will sometimes lead to a misdemeanor charge of "battery under the Family Violence Act," but if you go through life without an FVA charge, you haven't truly lived. Furthermore, you "done told him twiced (twice)" not to touch your Elvis commemorative plate collection.

5) Elvis is not dead. Moving along...

6) Every landlord is a jerk. Nobody has a nice landlord, it's not possible. "I done told him that my septic tank was backed up and he ain't doin' a dang thing about it, that icehoe (asshole)." Anyone who claims to have a nice landlord is a liar, and can be taken "out back" as such. (FYI, Dad was a landlord once. He made the incredible jerk move of demanding timely rent, so the tenant lit the place on fire. Another tenant beat his wife's face to a pulp in the front yard and another was busted growing an insane amount of marijuana in the basement. Rentals in Cassville: worth every penny.)

7) Gun ownership is encouraged, and it's even cooler if you have a "carry permit." You also must show this permit to others as much as possible, then pull up your pants leg to show them the brand new Glock strapped to your ankle, which caused your light bill to be paid late. Who cares? You gotta protect yourself. On the benches at Cass Grocery, I was witness to an arsenal of weaponry over the years, which lead me to believe two things: 1) We'd never be robbed in broad daylight and 2) if the Russians did invade us, I'm staying put. Those Commies would have been cut down in a hail of gunfire before you could say "The only good thing about Georgia Tech is that it's next to the Varsity." Wolverines!!!! (+1 for Red Dawn reference)

8) Trespassing is an offense punishable by death. We abide by Texas law here, "Texas East" so to speak. If your Justin Ropers touch a blade of grass in my pasture, it's the .30-06 for you. If you are not killed, you will certainly be taken "out back" and educated about the intricacies of Cassville property ownership. A couple of guys I went to school with learned the hard way about his rule. They weren't killed, but a Winchester rifle across the forehead will make you think twiced (twice) about roaming a pasture that doesn't belong to you.

9) All medical procedures must be done by emergency room doctors. No matter how large or small the problem may be, a hangnail all the way to the Ebola virus, you MUST go to the emergency room (via ambulance, of course. It's free, right? Oh wait...). All immediate family, uncles, aunts, cousins, co-workers, fellow church members and the guys from the Masons Lodge must show up to hold a vigil by your bedside. Of course, when you get a $2,500 hospital bill, you must go up to Cass Grocery and complain about it. There are no exceptions to this basic truth. Oh, and don't forget to wear your hospital bracelet for the next week...it's a great conversation starter.

"What happened to you, Leonard?

"Hell, me and Inez was at the Waffle House and I stepped in a oil slick and fell on my ice (ass). Rushed me to the emergency room. Cracked tailbone. I bet it caused my COPD to flare up too. I'm gonna call Ken Nugent. Hell, they even tol' me I got fibrmal-ga (fibromyalgia). I can't even work now. I am eating Klonopins left and right."

10) If you ever need to settle your differences and/or do something shady or illegal, the parking lot of the store is where it needs to occur. Once, a cheating boyfriend was caught with his other woman at his house. Instead of dealing with it at home, he and the woman sped off in his car and drove to the store. His longtime squeeze, we'll call her "Kristy," got in her car and followed them. They park next to the pay phone and of course, Kristy is right behind them. She removes a four foot piece of Re-Bar from her trunk and proceeds to demolish every piece of glass on the car, screaming obscenities that would make Chuck Norris shave his beard. After she finished, they drove away, covered in glass. She approaches Dad in tears and says, "are y'all gonna call the law?" Dad, trying not to laugh and living up to another Cassville code of honor, replies, "No way." She simply took them "out back" and this is totally acceptable behavior.

For shady or illegal activity, the pay phone at the store is your ticket. There is no telling how much meth, marijuana, prostitution, fraud, embezzlement, and the conspiracy to commit various and sundry crimes was discussed on this phone. Every time someone used that phone, they looked as if they'd just robbed a bank or burned somebody's house down. You know the look, constantly scanning the area for cops, pacing and chain smoking like Humphrey Bogart on Casablanca. Once, I was coming home from Athens with one of my friends and I passed by the store around 1 AM. There was an 80's model Mustang 5.0, a girl smoking a cigarette on the hood and a guy with a cutoff Def Leppard t-shirt, talking on the phone. "Nothing good happens after 1 AM," my parents always used to say. Well, all I know is that being on a pay phone at 1 AM in Cassville means that somebody is about to get high, die or get sold on the black market.

Values. Irreplaceable ideas and beliefs that are unique to a culture. Every community has them and this is why I say that "deep down," none of us are alike. It's like Billy used to say, "Every time I go to Fairmount, the music stops when I walk in a store." People know you are an outsider, it's obvious from the get-go. It's like the difference between a customer scratching lottery tickets when they are sober and when they are high on meth. Sober customers scan the tickets, buy them 1-2 at a time, and casually scratch them off in their car. People cranked up on meth buy 20 tickets at a time, scratch them at the counter furiously, taking breaks to pace and/or scratch their necks, contemplating whether they can afford 23 Snickers bars. That's the amount of difference between a Cassville native and people from elsewhere.

Oh.....and never, ever say that "sugar makes grits better" in Cassville (aka the 30123). You'll get taken out back, get "whupped"with Re-Bar and will likely end up in the emergency room.