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The Huckin' Fillbilly StoryThis is a true-life account of the Huckin’ Fillbillys as told by Gramma’ McCoy (Gramma’ passed away earlier last year from a freak accident on her Harley. May God rest her soul.) “Them boys ain’t nuttin’ but trouble! I reckon with all that acid rock and hippity-hop they listened to growin’ up, they was bound to do the devil’s work. But I love ‘em. It all started back in Frogg Hollar, Tennesee with my little Elvis wantin’ to be a singer…His Mama and Pappy was such big Elvis fans, they named him ELVIS! Before he's even born I done told my daughter if he ever got a chance to be the first McCoy to attend school she should name him Gaylord so he wouldn’t be teased ‘bout his name bein’ Elvis and all. You know how your own kin never listen to good advice… Well, after school fell through, Elvis spent his younger years learnin’ how to sing everything by Elvis Presley (and Foreigner, and Lynyrd Skynyrd, and Def Leppard, and ZZ Top) and set out to form himself a genuine rock-n-roll band.
“Whatchu’ want, boy?” the trucker asked. “I was just lookin’ for my dogs and noticed your truck broken down. I reckon I’d see if you need any help.” Elvis replied. “Maybe...Got a ¾ inch ratchet at your house?” “Sure do”, Elvis said nervously. “Any Genesee or PBR on ice?”, replied the man. “Now, that's just a dumb-assed question. Does you sister put out on the first date?" Without even blinkin’, the trucker lowered his shotgun and said, “Name’s Tater Jenkins...pleasure to meet yer aquaintence. Whatta' you say we go knock us back a coupla’ cold ones back at your place?” They never did end up lookin' for the ratchet. Needless to say, after Tater learned that Elvis had a band, he more or less forced himself into the band (and onto Cletus’ sister on later occasions) because 1.) He had a shotgun 2.) He was the only drummer for miles around and 3.) His hair made him look like a genuine rock 'n' roller! (business up front...party in the back) After many “sober-less” nights of rehearsin’ in the shed, the boys could only manage to play ZZ Top’s “Tush” and Ted Nugent’s “Cat Scratch Fever” up to where the “gitter” gets all “jangly” and then they’d stop cuz’ Cletus said playin’ them parts makes his head all dizzy like 5th grade did for the 3rd time. (Cletus was one of the lucky ones to go to school. As matter of fact, he’s in the same grade as his kid brother). So the search went on for them to find a feller that could play all them “jangly” parts in the songs. The boys didn’t have to look any further than Ernest Hatfield ’s son, Jerry Lee. After Jerry Lee joined the band, they was set to take on the world 'cept only problem was, ain’t none of them got any reliable transportation. Elvis’ motor in his Trans Am had spun a bearin’, Edsel spends more time pushin’ his El Camino rather than drivin’ it, Cletus…well...let’s just say it’s better for everyone if Cletus stays off the road. Tater’s truck had been scrapped for beer money (although, he managed to keep the bed of the truck for why, I dunno’) and Jerry Lee…well...herein’ lies the key…
The boys slowly got used to the idea of having Shecky in the band, even if they had to give him a beatin’ here and there but they’ve come to tolarate him. Anyways, that brings us to today. The boys asked for our blessin' before we sent them off to the ‘Big Time’ city lights of L.A. (that’s the Leavittsburg Area) to seek fame and fortune (or at least meet other hicks, chicks & lunatics that they could relate to) I’m sure my boys will make everyone proud…(sob)... Did I mention the phone call I got from Shecky last week? Now mind you, Shecky’s a little dyslexic. The conversation was as follows: “Hi Gramma’ McCoy, We’re havin’ a swell time. The boys wanted to play yesterday some hide-n-seek and I managed to hide from them for 6-1/2 hours! The guard at the trailer park found me in the dumpster I was hidin' in around 2:30 in the morning and told me to go home. The rest of the guys assured me that they looked for me and just couldn’t find me. When we was leavin’ the motel last week, a bunch of football players sent us on our way by yelling, “Go Home You Huckin’ Fillbillies and don't come back”. The guys in the band were angry for some reason but I thought it was downright nice of ‘em to wish us well and send us off to bigger things? Oh yeah, don't be alarmed but I was rushed to the hospital last night. We was getting ready to go out and look for some girls to hang out with and Tater told me that ladies like when a guy smells nice "down there". So, I poured some cologne on my balls. I woke up a few hours later, after passing out from the intense pain, in a puddle of my own sweat. The feeling is slowly coming back to my left nut and I'm just starting to walk normal again..." (I had to act like the line was breakin' up as to not upset Shecky but damn!, this boy was givin' me one hell of a migraine. We are damn proud that the boy became a carney and is finally able to see the world! Shecky is no longer with his bandmates but I am 100% sure they will get by!) I’d luv ta’ share some more but I gotta go. Little Emma’s “sweet-sixteen birthday party/baby shower” begins in an hour and I haven’t set the picnic table yet. |
When Elvis turned 30 and was ready to leave home, he met up with
a “whipper-snapper” that plays bass named Edsel McGillis.
That boy always had an extraordinary story... like “The
40-inch catfish that got away” or “I wrestled that
big ole’ bear to the ground with my bare hands…”
(I think it’s buuuuuuuullshit if you ask me) but they seemed
to be kindred spirits. After an evening out in front yard, listenin'
to 8-tracks, tunin’ up the 
One day, Elvis went lookin’ for Duke & Jr. (not his
uncles, but our dogs…they got out the hole in the fence)
and came across a broken-down 
Jerry Lee does have reliable transportation. He has an old late-model Chevy Suburban. The only problem
is, his mama wouldn’t let him be in the band unless his
cousin, Shecky, was allowed to play too. There is something not
quite right with Shecky, like his parents beat him like a Pinata
or encouraged him to play in traffic during rush hour as a child.
Whatever it is, he’s not like normal folk. Boy needs counselin’
or somethin'.