Some of you regular readers of this here column might’ve noticed I’ve been AWOL for a few weeks. Some might’ve speculated that I had been committed or knocked senseless by Maw’s iron skillet. Lesser educated folks might’ve supposed I went off and joined the Occupy Luchenbach protesters. The truth is that since that dadgum drought ended, I’ve been spending much of my time sitting on a Ford tractor mowing knee-high weeds or moving car parts out of the front yard so Maw won’t mow over them with her push mower.
The hours spent on my therapeutic tractor has also enabled me to practice my lines for a film that will start production up in Elgin and Bastrop soon. Now, I haven’t exactly gotten the part that I hope to audition for, but I’m a natural for that role. There are lots of school-educated actors who might be able to play this character, but I believe I would be more authentic. Having real people portray comparable characters in a film makes the movie more credible. Remember the coaches in “Blind Side” or the Navy SEALs in “Act of Valor?” Those real-life characters added to the credibility of those films, so I’m hoping to do the same for “Exists,” a dramatic movie about a group of campers being hunted by Bigfoot. Wow! This is going to be great!
The part I want is that fella in dirty overalls and no shirt who says, “Yup, I seen’m. Big, hairy thang. Pert near eight foot, I reckon. He ran ’cross the road by the crick I was drivin’ on one night. Caught’m in my headlights and he looked right at me. Scared the hell out of me! Made me spill my beer all over my lap. I don’t go nowhere any more without my 12-gauge, I tell you what.”
Can’t you just see me up on the big screen dressed in my favorite overalls and my John Deere cap, getting interviewed by some pretty actress, maybe Sandra Bullock if I’m lucky, who’s playing the part of the local news reporter? I could pull off that role with no trouble. Shoot, I already have the outfit, so the studio would save money on costumes. Wouldn’t I be better than some fancy-pants actor like Gary Busey or Nick Nolte? I bet they don’t even know how to properly spit tobacco juice into an empty beer can.
Speaking of Bigfoot, do you ever wonder why only rednecks see these creatures? How many corporate lawyers or heart surgeons do you see on the news describing the creature they saw walking through the woods? You never hear descriptions of Sasquatch as being “above average stature, hirsute and dreadfully groomed, and the poor fellow was excessively malodorous.” Oh, no. What we see is an overweight, underdressed tow truck driver named Carl Bob describing the mysterious creature as “tall as a grizzly bar, with long, strangy hair and he stunk like a mule fart.”
Does Bigfoot wait to see an old, rusted pick-up with a busted headlight rattling down a country road before he crosses the road? Do you think the squatch waits behind trees for the BMW and Mercedes to pass before he struts out to the shoulder? And why are all photos of Bigfoot captured on old cameras with no auto-focus? Millions of expensive digital cameras are carried into national forests every year, and the only pictures of Bigfoot we see resemble a photo of Cousin Itt behind a shower curtain. Don’t they sell good cameras in rural Maine and Possum Turd, Georgia? Come on, folks, I want a good picture of Sasquatch to hang on my wall beside my stuffed chupacabra.
Well, I need to go back to practicing my lines for my movie audition. Since I am only 1/8 redneck, I have a little trouble with the accent. My voice coach tells me that I often switch from redneckian to country bumpkinese, and in order to get a speaking part in a Hollywood movie, I must be able to nail my lines. I reckon it’s like Sean Connery mixing up Welsh and Scotch accents in his films. And since “Exists” will undoubtedly become a huge hit and perhaps Oscar worthy, I don’t want some ignorant film critic complaining about my diction. So, if y’all don’t see as many columns from the Crow’s Nest in the near future, that’s because I’m out in Bastrop, standing in front of the camera saying, “I believe thar’s a Squatch in them woods.”
Clint Younts sees things in the woods. But we’re never sure if it is before or after he drinks a six pack of Lone Star beer.
