I wish I had some exciting tales from the Ohio valley to report...but the truth is not much happens around here. That's one of the things that brings me back and the thing that sends me away after 4 days or so. So far the excitement has included getting lost in the country and getting directions from trailer trash, getting together with old friends to mock our hometown, and trying to teach my 2 year old nephew to say banana split (which sounded remarkable similiar to spic!)
The trailer trash encounter was definitely the funniest. My sister and I were heading out to my brother's house with KFC (extra mashed potatoes...YUM) but were detoured by an accident. We ended up en route to absolutely nowhere. I was familiar with the first part of the detour. As teenagers we would head out on the back roads for various forms of entertainment that we perferred not to engage in near our parents. But, 10-15 minutes into the detour we realized we had not seen a familiar road/house/corn field in a little while.
We turned around to ask directions from some folks sitting on their porch. I can't even explain how ridiculous it was. If you are from this area you may have a better concept but for those suburban folks out there I will try to expand. The "house" consisted of a broken down trailer. My sister refers to the location as wood on cinder blocks in the middle of a trash pile. There were at least 4 dogs, 2 of which were definite in-breds. A little girl running bare foot from the side field yells, "hey daddy...look thats a car, a real car daddy!" The man of the house had a well managed mullet and gave us some damn fine directions, although it was a bit difficult to understand him thru his redneck accent. The yard consisted of 2 hollowed out old trailers which seemed to function as storage, a trash dumpster, and maybe a pool house (next to the mud hole). It was a classic white trash encounter.
The best thing about white trash people is that either they don't know it or just don't care. It's not like poor people in the suburbs who pretend to have money and bling-bling it with their Walmart jewels. The poor folks around here drive the worst possible cars you can think of. Most are held together with some kind of wiring, ropes, or junkyard product. They don't have cell phones, house phones, washers/dryers, or any luxury for that matter. They don't steal or increase the crime rate. At times you forget about the b/c they kinda seclude themselves to the fields which have no other use b/c the soil is depleted and nothing will grow there.
Most of these things where considered normal as part of my community while I was growing up. There were always the farm kids and the smelley poor kids. It wasn't until I got older and could drive out of this county that I realized otherwise.
We were pleasantly surprised to find the Atlantic City Expressway lined with beautiful wildflowers. It made the early morning drive even more enjoyable. 
