I can't believe my brother wrote this--I'm so proud--hee hee haw haw! We had SOO much fun at the Monster Truck Rally.
The jam was full of enlightening experiences and funny staged fights even! There was quad racing and moto-cross (they took dirt bikes up in the air and did flips and other tricks...I was really impressed)...but still Jeb just liked the trucks. He liked Full Boar, The Monster Mutt, The Grave Digger, Bad News, and Git Er Done!
'Twas the night of the Monster Truck Rally, when all through the house.
Not a redneck was sober, not even the ones with an air brushed monster truck blouse;
The doo-rags were tied on the greasy mullets with care,
In hopes that “Grave Digger” and “Monster Mutt” soon would be there;
The yougin’s were nestled all snug in their seats,
While visions of crushed cars made them do a jig with their feet;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my NASCAR cap,
Had just settled down for a long Monster Truck lap,
When out in the Bi-Lo Center there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the seat to see what was the matter.
Away to the stair case I flew like a flash,
Tore past the beer man and he threw up the cash.
The spotlights on the panels of the old crushed up cars
Gave the reflections of rednecks yelling as if in cowboy bars,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a Grave Digger Monster Truck, and 5 others I fear.
With a few big old redneck drivers, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it brought meaning to the word “hick.”
More rapid than Nascar his redneck fans came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Bubba! Now, Leroy! Now, Junior and Dixie!
On, Roscoe! On Johnny! On, Tony and Trixie!
To the top row of the Bi-Lo Center! To the bottom seat by the wall!
Now crush away! Crush away! Crush away all!"
As smashed up cars that before the wild hurricane flies,
When they meet with an obstacle, they run over it till it dies.
So up to the starting line they flew,
With the tank full of gas, and lots of bumper stickers too.
And then, in a rumbling, I heard on the Bi-Lo Center floor,
The roaring and racing of each Monster Truck through the door.
As I put in my ear plugs, and was turning around,
Down the alley came “Monster Mutt” with a bound.
He was painted as if all in fur, from his hood to his tires,
And his big floppy ears waved as if putting out fires;
A bundle of fuel he had strapped on his back,
And he looked like a big dog, biggest one of the pack.
His tail -- how it wiggled! His tires how nobby!
His roll bars were shiny, as for the tickets thanks to ol’ Bobby!
The redneck sitting beside me had his rebel flag doo-rag tied like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The wad of chewin’ tabaccer he held tight in his yellow molars,
And the spit it created came from his mouth like a rocket cruising the solar;
He had a broad dirty face and a big round beer belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old hick,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of the smell that made me sick;
A patch over his eye and a twist of his greasy hair,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing but despair;
He spoke not a word, but drank straight from his beer bottle,
And when the last drop was finished yelled “lets go full throttle!!”
Then standing with a wobble,
And with his fists raised high in the air,
He gave out a rebel holler without a care;
Then He jumped up and down, to the Grave Digger Finale he gave a yell,
And away all the rednecks ran like a convict seeking bail .
But I heard that redneck exclaim, as he drunkenly stumbled out of sight,
"Happy Monster Truck Rally to all, and to all a good-night."
I could have put up more pics of the trucks and such; Jeb's faces were much better!
