.......you and your family drive to the nearest town (40 miles or so) and check into the nearest motel with cable television to catch the Bull Riding Championships LIVE from Las Vegas, Nevada. And you take an ice cooler on wheels filled with beer.
OK, so I admit it. I'm a redneck. Or at least I used to be. Once a redneck, always a redneck? At the very least all my family are rednecks.
I came to this realisation one day when this exact scenario unfolded in front of me. And I was a willing and able participant.
This is how the story goes:
My sister and I were visiting my father and his wife in Ford City, Missouri. This is the back of beyond and a wee bit further than that. He didn't have television. Where he lives out in the boondocks ya gotta have satellite and he didn't have satellite so he hadn't even bothered to buy a television. Makes sense but can be a bit unsettling if you aren't expecting it.
Our cousins, Kim and Brenda, and their daughters, Brooke & Mary, also turned up for a visit from the neighbouring state of Nebraska (only a drive of a couple hundred miles or so).
Now all of us are fairly big rodeo fans and I ain't afraid to admit it. If you've never seen a rodeo you need to be doing that before you die. And the bull riding part of a rodeo is just about as excitin' as it gets. Maybe I ain't sellin' this so good.
Anyway, we were all distraught when we realised that my fathers refusal to get connected with that modern invention called the television was going to cost us the viewing of the longest 3 seconds a man has ever seen. for the uninitiated 3 seconds is how long you gotta stay on a bull for the ride to get scored.
So we all packed ourselves into the various vehicles and set off for St Joseph, Missouri to see if we could find ourselves a Motel 8 with cable television. We did.
Not entirely sure what that motel owner thought when 2 grown men, 4 grown women and 3 children checked into 1 room with a king size bed for just a couple hours but quite frankly, we didn't care.
We had filled up our cooler on wheels with beer (and just a bit of fruit juice for the younguns and drivers) and brought along some munchies and sat down to watch ourselves a rodeo.
We had one of the best times ever! We knew we were rednecks. We didn't care. We wear that stereotype with pride and honour.