It Was A Redneck Easter

My father in-law loves to have family gatherings. So, Easter rolled around and we got the call. He is getting his brother and sister to meet for brunch and wants us to join them. I say Ok, but there’s a catch. He doesn’t want to spend $20 or more for the meal, so he will look around for other options. My first thought was oh that sounds fine. Then I realize that he and his siblings live in rural Illinois, about 45 minutes from our place in southwest St. Louis, where there are few good options. The other challenge is his family doesn’t like to drive more than 15 minutes to a restaurant. I don’t get it. He and his brother are both over 300 lbs each, so why they can’t wait a few more minutes for a good meal boggles my mind.

Well a few days pass and I get the marching orders. He wants us to meet at the Sportman’s Club in Godfrey, Il. I say fine as I try to envision what this could be like. The Sportsman’s Club is a place for older people to gather for meals and cards. The also have a skeet shooting range, which probably isn’t the best idea for those people with failing hearing and eye sight to be shooting at discs in the air. But hey, they paid the membership dues.  So my expectations were not what you would say, high.

Easter arrived and the plan was to meet at 1p.m. We get to the Club and immediatly discover half of Alton, Il is there. Oh, I think, this place must be pretty good. Right? Oh, who am I fooling. I can see the sense of dread on my teenager’s face and we haven’t even found a place to park yet. Finally, a spot is discovered by the skeet range. This is appropriate. We walk to the door and find a line coming out of the club entrence. It seems they have everyone come through a line and pay cash or check. Oops! I don’t carry cash over $10 usually. We use debt cards in the city. I ask the lady behind the table if they take cards. She says yes, but someone will have to take it to the back to run it. Now wait, this is a union town, and you are telling me you couldn’t run a 100 foot line out to the table. Being nice, I only said this to myself. I  give the other lady my card and she vanishes off into the crowd.

Next we shuffle to the next station where we are met by a man sitting behind the table. He is probably in his 60’s, about 300 lbs(this seems to be a pattern.), sitting with a cane leaning against him, jeans and wearing a cap that references a hunting adventure. The jury is out if all his teeth are present and in their original place. He is obviously head of security. His job at this soiree is to stamp each person’s hand after they pay. They don’t want any party crashers.

We make our way through security without incident to the buffet line. I can now see the spread and we are definitely not at the Hyatt. They have ham and friend chicken for the main course. So far not bad. Next are the vegys. Well some people might call them vegys. There is mashed potatoes with an accompaning ladle of gravy. Watchout, that suff could double for 10W40 weight. They have green beans. How can you damage green beans? Don’t ask how, but they were overachievers. The review from the teenager, “They were nasty!”

We get the rest of our meal and find a place with the in-laws. We end up at the opposite end of the long table, so we are out of normal conversation range. That’s when it happened. THEIR REDNECK CAME OUT!

My father in-law takes a drumstick or two and inserts them in his mouth. He then removes them, now clean as a whistle. I just look at the teenager as she gives me a look as if to say, “why didn’t we go to the Hyatt?” Which I respond nonverbally, “Why don’t you have a job?”

Next up, my wife’s uncle. He’s now got his hand in his mouth. I assumed he was fishing for some grizzle or maybe a green bean stuck in his teeth. I was half right. He was fishing but not for food. With a grin on his face, he removes his hand from his mouth and raises it like he has caught a prize bass. I could only have wished it was a bass.

“I got it”, he declares with the enthusiasm of a kid at Christmas.

I look at his hand. HE HAD PULLED OUT A TOOTH! “EEEWWWW”, I think, just waiting for the teenagers response. I know I haven’t heard this one on any Foxworthy redneck CDs.

“If you pull you real tooth out while eating Easter brunch in a public place, you might be a redneck.”

After the teenager rolls her eyes, she looks at me and says, “Can we not come her next year!”

I reply, “That’s probably do able.”

I need texmex now.