Throwback Thursday: Meet the (grand)parents

Prepare yourself, because I have opened the vault to my past. I had another blog, which ran from 2010 to 2014. I shut it down in 2014 after realizing that many of the during-college posts - the majority of them - were insincere. I was depressed during that time and hid it on my blog, and I don't want to leave a disingenuous footprint on the internet. I was also in a terrible relationship and used the blog to promote the positive, mostly made up parts of that relationship.

That said, I would like to start sharing some of those posts that do reflect who I am. I sometimes feel I lost myself during college, and it's comforting for me to see that my wit and drive still shone through at times.

The post I'm sharing today is about my family, specifically my dad's family. I really wanted to edit down some of the cutesy phrases I used but decided that maybe it's a good thing to see growth in my writing and, in turn, myself.

Here you are:

My family is strange. I know, I know. No family is normal because normal is relative and all that jazz. But forreals, guys - my family is just plain weird. I don't mean weird in the bad way, either. It's more funny than embarrassing, and I'm almost certain that I'll always be able to tell a comical anecdote or two about any given person in my family. 

My dad's father cracks me up more than anyone in my family. He is the cream of the crop when it comes to being abnormally strange, and I love him all the more for it. He was born, raised, and still lives in Fouke, Arkansas, which is basically a mile long strip of Ma and Pa stores and barbecue joints. I went to high school in Fouke at my mother's wishes (also to be closer to my father) so I experienced plenty of my papaw's behavior. 

First, I should say that he is probably the most redneck person I've ever known. He pronounces the word "tire" as "tar" and utilized Willie Nelson's "Stay All Night" as a lullaby for my formative years. (This wouldn't be too bad if not for the fact that "Stay All Night" comes from the album "Shotgun Willie," which has a slightly racist overtone, especially in the title track.) Without a doubt, the strangest thing about my papaw is his name. His birth name is Halton Jones, but he apparently decided against the name early in life and began to go by "Bo Jack." Yes, Bo Jack. It confuses me about as much as it confuses you, be assured.

In the past few years, he's become hard of hearing, so when I visit my grandparents, I get to see my mamaw yell at my papaw when he asks what's happening on whatever tv show they happen to be watching. He also feigns stupidity sometimes, something I've recently realized. After all, he churned out my dad and my aunt, who are both pretty intelligent people. I know he isn't dumb. He plays it off well, though. 

I remember watching a Lifetime movie with my grandparents a few years back. In the movie, there were two groups on two rafts. One group included two children, a mother, and a police officer. The other was comprised of two men wearing camouflage with large guns. 

"Sharon," my papaw asked my grandmother, "Who are the bad guys?"

But despite all this, you can rest assured that my papaw is a very good guy. He has a great heart, and even though he plays himself down sometimes, he is very important to my family. 

And not just because most of us wouldn't exist without him.

I can't stop cringing, so I hope you guys find this entertaining.