Jed Clampett and Kin

This past weekend, we moved Aunt M from the north side of Lincoln Park to the South side of Lincoln Park. Our parents came into town along with Uncle Aaron to help with the big move, and it went pretty smoothly. There was nary a swearword spoken, which is quite an accomplishment for our family. My brother only ticked me off once (when he SERIOUSLY equated the itching of his healing sunburn to the pain of childbirth ... while I was sitting next to Aunt M's stuff, within reach of a large pointed decorative reed-thing. Dude is lucky he still has both eyes.)

So, it was actually a good time, all that moving business. However, while we were moving my sis into her new place on the border of Lincoln Park and Old Town (read: SNOBSVILLE), my dad decided to take a little break and sun himself right on Lincoln Avenue next to the dumpster:

No shame. WHATSOEVER. And you know what? He won't even be upset with me for making fun of him on my blog today. Want to know why? Because he is proud of being a hillbilly. Yes, indeed. PROUD I say. 

Just ask him about the double-wide in Arkansas that he one day wishes to possess. And the bait shop on some podunk lake that he's going to open and call, "Dave's Bait Shop" (cleaver), oh, and don't forget to ask him about his rusty boat with a two-cycle engine that stalls in the middle of the lake. And about the 5-pack of economy-sized Hunts Ketchup he recently snagged at Big Lots. Yes, Big Lots.

*sigh* 

Well doggies! It's not longer a mystery why he feels out of place in this city.