A true story
In my younger days I lived in a small community in central Kentucky. I learned much from the good ole boys and girls which has helped me ever since. One of the most important lessons was to give respect and treat others as you would want to be treated. The other was, give no shit, take no shit.
I lived on a small road outside of town which ran along a long narrow ridge. It was sparsely populated with small houses and mobile homes and No one had a new car (cept me). For reasons I still don’t understand nice brick houses started to be built, mostly 3 bedroom ranch types.
One summer near 20 new houses were built and sold on “Ridge Road†and our happy little piece of Hillbilly Heaven was forever changed. No more blow jobs on the front stoop, no more buck naked taking a leak in the front yard just cus you didn’t feel like going inside. No more wacky Tabacky parties in the drive way. Phucking civilization sucks.
Of all the people on the ridge, the Porters were the poorest. They were good people, simple farmers doing the best they could with what they had and that wasn’t much. Their house was a narrow 2 story place with slate shingle sides, faded white wash stoop and window trim, well water from a hand pump and outhouse in the back. Worn out farm land and no grass around the house.
One year they had a real good crop so they decided to build a new house. Come spring time they started on a 3 Bdrm brick house with running water and inside plumbing. Moving on UP.
( Most of y’all should know that a house under construction looks like crap. Mud, tire tracks, supplies all around and so on, a mess).
One day a gaggle of women from the new houses got together and worked themselves into a lip flapping, tongue wagging, finger shaking frenzy. They were oh so unhappy cus the Porters place looked worse than ever and it was going to severely impact their property values and was an embarrassment to all. With the gusto of a pack of hound dog on a fresh scent the gaggle swooped down on the Porter abode and confronted Granny Porter. The gaggle lip slashed Granny up one side and down the other about how bad her place looked and how bad a neighbor her family was and so on. Granny tried to explain that the new house was close to completion and once done the property would be cleaned up and would look much better. She continued on telling how they had saved and worked hard to improve the place but her words were wasted and meant no more than smoke in the wind. The gaggle wasn’t listening, they were smelling blood and going for the throat. Granny was spent and tired, she promised them that the next day the property would be turned into a Paradise. YES She Promised that the next day their place it would look like Paradise.
She went back inside to prepare as there was much work to be done, her word had been given.
That night the Porters all worked hard, trucks came and went and come break of dawn The Porters Paradise was in place.
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b]I did a copy and paste, the end of the message didn't make it, Sorry.
During the night 50 hogs were brought in, mostly big uns. Grunters, snorters, oinkers and some little squealers for good measure, U know Pigs, mud rolling porkers. A large new sign was proudly displayed at the corner of the property, “Porters Pork Paradise†“If You Love Hogs this is Heavenâ€. On holidays some of the hogs would be dressed up. Santa and Rain deer hogs for Christmas, Easter would have bunny pigs, sky rockets painted on some for the 4th of July. But every day was Hog Day. Oh Life Is Good.
The Porters moved into their new house but never tore down the ole place, left it up and let the “Live Stock†move in.
Local interest news media would report on them from time to time, once WGN Chicago did a 15 minute piece which carried over to a clip on one of the National TV morning shows. Granny would tell her story in her sweet and soft country voice and smile and all the while the hogs would be rooting and snorting and grunting and doing the things Hogs do.
What brought me to write this story, well I found this music video on YouTube and the first minute is filmed on the front stoop of the Porters ole House. Take a look and listen.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RgAlfGZl ... rn-1r-4-HM[/b]
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