Gut Rumbles

September 28, 2009

Recondo 32 and I

Originally published August 18, 2004

Rick was raised in the small mill-town of Clinton, South Carolina, just south of Spartanburg. He and I have a lot of things in common, because a mill-town isn't much different from a coal mining camp. You either worked in the mill or you SOLD THINGS to millworkers, the same way you either worked in the coal mine or sold things to coal miners. That's where all the money came from.

Rick and I are adventurous eaters. We like to be in the middle of nowhere and see a small diner on the side of the road. If there are three cars in the parking lot, we figure that they aren't poisoning people left and right, so we stop to get a meal.

Sometimes that's good, and sometimes it's not so good. Sometimes we've stopped at a little hole-in-the-wall that served food just like Grandma used to cook. We made good ole, Southern grunting noises while eating that food, sopping up gravy with fresh cornbread and cleaning our plates. We left big tips for the waitress, too, who kept our glasses of iced tea full while we ate. That was good stuff.

Other times, we knew that the cook was opening boxes of Swanson frozen dinners and making no effort whatsoever to season them. That was a lot like eating cardboard, but we still tipped the waitress if she kept our tea glasses full. When you stop to eat at those kind of places, you may hit bingo or you may go bust, but you KNEW the job was dangerous when you took it.

Somebody posted some absolute blasphemy in my comments about iced tea. FUCK YOU!!! Ya can't GET decent iced tea out west or up north. Those fucking yankees don't know how to make it. When we hit Lexington, Kentucky, on our way back home, Recondo started his usual droning about how backward Kentucky was until we went out to eat. Then, he took one sip of his iced tea (which was served in a semi-BUCKET, the way tea is meant to be served) and he said, "Sweet Jesus. I'm back down South again."

If you're a Southerner, you know what I'm saying. If you DON'T KNOW, go piss up a rope, you yankee fuckwit.


Looks like the idiot spammers have gotten hold of this URL. What a pain. IAC, thanks for keeping Rob's blog going - I still check it out after all these years, still great writing. Thanks Rob, and Thanks Sam!

Posted by: GregT on October 6, 2009 01:04 PM

I still stop by on occasion myself, to see what the Editor has dredged up from the archives. Rob was hellaciously prolific.

And he was right about sweet tea. You can't find it north of Richmond, and, in fact, most of Virginia is hit-or-miss.

Oh, and don't eat "southern fried chicken" anywhere north of Richmond or west of Memphis. You'll hurt yourself.


Posted by: Bill McNutt on October 14, 2009 02:24 PM

The Acidman could make an interesting story out of anything! Thanks for the continued postings.

Posted by: Charlie V on October 23, 2009 07:44 AM

Thanks for keeping the Acidman alive! I cried for a week when he died and still I have to drop in now and then. He was so right about iced tea!
Shame about the spammers-I remember Rob cussin' up a blue streak about 'em.

Posted by: Stewart on October 28, 2009 01:14 AM

I don't blog much anymore, but I still find myself coming back to read Rob now and then. Why? Perhaps the most authentic and heartfelt writing I've ever seen.


Posted by: Brian on October 30, 2009 11:46 PM

I miss him too and return to re-read whatever is posted. Thanks for keeping it up as you can.

Posted by: Sue on November 22, 2009 10:34 PM

Sad to see this blog fade away.

There seemed to be so much promise and emotion to keep it alive from many people. Smoke and mirrors, obviously.

Damned shame. He deserved a little better than three years before it all got too hard and inconvenient.

Posted by: Henry Blowfly on December 1, 2009 09:29 AM
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