If you live within 20 miles of the Gulf Coast from Panama City to New Orleans, you live on the Redneck Rivera. I know some of you won’t like this bit of news, but you will have to learn to accept it. America’s Redneck Rivera is a wonderful place to live. It is a perfect mixture of “good old boys,” Bubbas and Bubbettes, transplants from everywhere in the world, upgraded Yankees, farmers, Native Americans, Republicans that are proud of it, Democrats that are unsure, and Independents that never tell people that they are registered that way, military folks, beach bums and a way too many attorneys.

There is no common language. You may here any dialect being spoken here, but it is always with a Southern Twang that is a learned joy to hear. It is made up of all colors of folks, types of religions, tends to be more conservative in its politics, and rural farms are only a short drive from the most beautiful beach’s on the globe. It is quite the mix of landscapes, people and cultures-and I love it!

When I travel and do my little shows, people often refer to the character I do, “T. Bubba” as a Redneck. Well, he may be, and I love that as well. I grew up on the Mississippi Gulf Coast with Rednecks and Cajuns, and have lived in Pensacola for 35 years, so I call it home now. I got to wondering last week, if I really was a Redneck and why that often offended me.

After a day and three nights of pondering it, I came to the conclusion that I am one of the people I love to live among. We are all Rednecks in a way here. Us Rednecks here still think prayer in school is OK, we mostly still say “yes sir” to our dads when they call, no matter what age we are, and the hard core holiday well wishers refuse to say “Happy Holidays”, “Winter Festival” or anything else that is politically correct, and cling to “Merry Christmas” because we know it is still a Christian Nation by over 90%. We still stand and take our hats off at ball games when we raise the flag and/or pray before the event begins. We still pull off the side of the road when a funeral goes by, just out of respect and we don’t care how you did it where you come from. We Redneck Rivera folks will give you help when you don’t deserve it, and not look for anything in return. We may fuss and fight among ourselves a bit every now and then, but you outside folks must learn to leave us alone and not interfere, or you could end up living in Vermont. In Vermont you could join the Socialist party, constantly complain because your entire state is landlocked, beach-less, and below zero ten months out of the year. You could learn to suck sap out of maple trees and not bother with dental work every again. The best thing to every come out of Vermont is I-75 South.

So, be proud of it when someone refers to you as a resident of the Redneck Rivera and remember that God put you here for a purpose and when you discover just what that purpose is, and get on about getting it done, it will even be more of a paradise than it is. The RR is torn, ragged, ripped up, bare, brown instead of our normal emerald green, and hurricane sad! It is still the only place I want to live.

Just thought you’d like to know...