One of my favorite things about going back to my Smalltown Ohio city is the fact that somewhere along Route 30 I hit a magical time warp back to 1989. Back in this magical land people believe Bryan Adams was actually around in 1969 and Eddie Murphy made movies that didn't contain this phrase, "Starring - Eddie Murphy, Eddie Murphy AND (dramatic pause) Eddie Murphy!" Wait - he's in a fat suit now! He's so multi-talented! Look at how many characters he plays!
Don't even get me started on the Big Bang theory. Maybe I am behind the times and trying to look like Poison is coming back around - but I doubt it (I'm holding on to my day-glo tube socks just in case).
But I can handle all of that. I've grown up with rednecks and I have come to appreciate Dale Jr. shirts, trucker hats and I understand wanting to take a ride on the handle-bar mustache (I think that came out wrong).
But there is a new, alarming trend sweeping smalltown America and I think, for the benefit of stereotypes everywhere, we need to unite against it.
The Fubu Cowboy.
Standing under the beer tent, sipping my Busch Light like any redneck - I counted countless Fubu jerseys, G-Unit shirts and quite a few other urban looking outfits.
I enjoy hip-hop fashion - but I find it ridiculous when little Johnny comes home from FFA and puts on a giant gold chain and his Rocowear jeans. You aren't exactly from the "street" when your address is "County Road ____" and isn't paved. Also I don't think they make a Calvin sticker where he is pissing on "Haters".
I understand the similarities - the Fubu Cowboy has readily available Carhart outlets and when taking his jacked up F-150 through the river banks he can say he is riding dirty - but lets look at possible miscommunication that could happen -
So next time you see this misguided soul - please hand him a Skynyrd record and point him in the direction of Larry the Cable Guy - we aren't far away from a Toby Keith "American Souja Boy" remix.