Straight from the holler.


  by "Buck"

November 14, 2003

HILLBILLY CUISINE - I had the opportunity to visit Hillbilly Hotdogs in Lesage, W.Va. last weekend.  I realize that Mr. Kay was there during his vacation and spoke at length about it.   I concur with his review as the cuisine was fantastic.  I enjoyed a Snuffy Smith... named for some famous train conductor.   I opted against the Snuffy Smith in Heat (that's a dog with HOT chili).  I'm not a big fan of red hot food, tends to churn boiler problems.    I took a look at a "Junkyard Dog", that's a hotdog with everything-and I do mean everything-I figured it was more than I wanted.  I plan to return and will take a Surf Report flyer along to document the occasion.  

HILLBILLY DINING ROOM - Because of an overt refusal by Toney, Mr. Kay didn't get to "dine in" at the Hillbilly Hot Dogs.   This was an experience that should have been used-even if Toney refused to relish in it.  The dining areas are two former school busses-one smoking, one no smoking.    We sat in the no-smoking bus because it was warmer and I'm sure I violated some health code by finishing my meal with a healthy dip of snuff.  The original bus seats are there and the table tops are slabs of rough lumber.  Old style lunch counter stools are along the walls in "counter" fashion.  The tables are held on pedestals cut from an oak tree and still look like tree trunks.   The whole place is a museum of tacky.    There are old car parts, a collection of eight-track tapes complete with a player, worn out farm implements.   Since it's now fall they've added a clear plastic cover to the entire front of the shack.     Everything is covered in graffiti-which is apparently encouraged since there's an old tool box full of felt tip markers.  Apparently everybody is required to write their name on something.   The whole resraurant literally defies description in such a brief essay-but it does remind me of some of the places where people lived back home, minus the smell.  The place, after all is a restaurant, and is remarkably clean given the décor and motif.   It's actually cleaner than most McDonalds I've entered in this fine country.    They have quite a little setup there and if you're near Huntington, W.Va. you really should detour north onto Route 2 for about 5 miles.   You can't miss it on the right.

JESSICA LYNCH MOVIE - Okay I watched the Jessica Lynch movie last weekend on NBC.   This version is apparently based on the Iraqi lawyer who led forces to her in that hospital.    Although they took some serious liberties, It was not at all unflattering to West Virginia.  The guy cast to play her dad is a dead ringer.  The house and community portrayed as Palestine, W.Va.  isn't even close to accurate.  The house in the movie looked like it was in Omaha, Nebraska.  It was a quiet little neighborhood with a house on the corner and it was all flat.  Jessica Lynch's homestead lies halfway up a holler and is situated along a creek.  When all of this happened the house was a small frame house with several outbuildings like storage sheds, chicken houses and several old cars and trucks.  It wasn't a shack, just a modest house that looked like an average West Virginia homestead.  The community and state jumped in to rebuild it and retrofit the place to accommodate Jessica's recovery.  It doesn't look like it did-but even after the makeover it's nowhere close to the one they had in the movie.   Pluse there's a scene in the movie where Jessica and a friend are walking through "Palestine".  It looks like a scene from a New England community with nice shops and storefronts.    First of all, Palestine has no main street-Elizabeth is the "big" town-and even it had nothing that looked like that.   The Exxon/Subway was the big hangout along with the movie rental place next door.    Poor research on the part of the production crew if you ask me.  At least mix in a hill!

YOU KNEW IT WAS COMING - The New York Daily News is reporting that skin mag king Larry Flynt has paid six-figures for some topless photos of Jessica Lynch.  According to the story, Lynch is cavorting with a couple of soldiers before being shipped off to Iraq.   In one she's wearing jeans and no top.  The other she's wearing a blue thong and no top.   I've said this before---and will say it again.   She didn't ask for all of this and has been pretty humble throughout the whole thing.  Only she knows the truth of what happened in that battle when everybody died around her-and she's chosen not to embellish the story for personal gain.   I'd really like to see the world leave her the fuck alone-she's had more than enough. 

GLAMOUR AWARDS - So Glamour Magazine this week honors it's Women of the Year.   Tell me who's the turd in this punch bowl?   Jessica Lynch, Shoshana Johnson-captured in the Lynch incident, Lori Piestewa -best friend of Lynch and killed in the incident (honored posthumously),  and Britney Spears.   You figure it out.

JESSICA LYNCH WRAP-UP - I'm planning to buy the book and read it.   I watched the Diane Sawyer discussion the other night.   Lynch keeps telling everyone, "I'm no hero, I'm a survivor."    Well okay if you say so, but being a hero doesn't mean being John Wayne.   Surely that doesn't hurt, but let's look at what she HAS done and what she COULD have done.   She COULD have gone along with that wild story of shooting the hell out of everybody and acted like a big, bad ass mamma who kicked some serious pajama-wearing ass.    Nope, she was the only one who could accurately say what happened-and she said she never fired a shot.   She said she was scared to death and praying for her life.  Gee, there's something you wouldn't expect.    She tells Diane Sawyer she was ASHAMED of acting that way.  Hey Jessica, you have nothing to be ashamed of.  If she ever happens across this blog and reads this, know that I would have probably curled up in the fetal position and started sucking my thumb when I was told I'd have to go to Iraq.  She's told the truth, shown humility, directed credit to the appropriate people, and admitted her fears and been honest about a host of troubles-including a sexual assault.   That takes more courage than most of us could ever muster-and that in and of itself is heroic.

FUCKING RICH BASTARDS - So I get a call from my hunting buddy the other day.  With deer season on the way, I'm fired up and raring to go.  However, my pal tells me the small 300-acre tract of land we hunt near Adolf, W.Va. is going to change drastically.  The land is leased from WestVaco-a lumber company.   They've cut the shit out of the timber where we hunt, leaving very little to hunt on-but beyond the slashings there is other land that's always been open for anyone to hunt if they buy a permit.  Now I learn that Westvaco has leased 3,500 acres to some bunch of rich fuckers who are selling hunting club memberships for $300.   Every holler monster and banjo boy in the region will descent on that much land-and they'll laugh at the boundaries to our 300-acres plot.  I'm looking for another place to hunt this year---fuckers.

GRAMMAR DISCOVERY - I didn't know "Damn Yankee" was two words until I was 16 years old.


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