It’s the Pitts: High Society
I get a lot of rural newspapers in the mail, mostly ones that run my column. I enjoy reading them but I’ve noticed they all lack a high society page. You know what I’m referring to, mentions and photos of stuffed shirts and anatomically enhanced women with cocktail glasses in hand attending debutante parties, wedding receptions, fundraisers to save fairy shrimp, or to fund liberal politicians.
Just because we don’t have such events in small town America doesn’t mean we couldn’t if we wanted to. It’s just that we’re a little anti-social. But here’s how a high society page might read in Mud Flats, Hog Jaw or Dunmovin if a New York Times society editor married a cowboy, moved west and got a job covering the social scene.
“The social season got off to an extravagant start last Tuesday when Filbert and Flossie Farnsworth and their dog, Mr. Dibbles, introduced their daughter, Miss Giving, in a coming out party at the local sale barn. Miss Giving had been home-schooled and other than a 4-H trip to Stinky Creek, she had never been to the big city before. She handled her coming-out with genteel ease and grace, even when her father got drunk, started a fist fight and passed out cold. Angelina and Brad could not be there but Kate and Duplicate Rellano were there along with other jet-setters like Bedpan Billy, Governor Lard Butt and Ruth Picklehammer who, by the way, would go to the opening of an envelope. (Oh, aren’t I catty!) There was no foie gras, caviar, truffles, or free range chicken served but there were celery sticks with both chunky and creamy peanut butter, along with four kinds of Jello salad.
In other high society news the organization Caps for Traps staged a fund raiser in the Grand Ballroom of the Ramada Inn in the “Yam Capital of Macadoodle County” to raise funds to hire a coyote trapper. A threadbare red carpet was rolled out for celebrity guest auctioneer, Rum Dum Wilson who conducted the highly anticipated auction that featured such extravagant lots as a mineral feeder, half ton of salt, one deluxe septic pumping and the biggest collection in the world of caps made from coyote pelts that belonged to the organization’s founder, Stewed Nelson. Stew tragically passed away last month at the age of 50 due to complications from cirrhosis of the liver.
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THE social event of the year took place at the lovely double-wide mobile home of Dirty Shirt Del and his lovely wife Della who gave away their daughter in marriage to Leavenworth Larry who just got back in town after an extended absence. Thanks to a brief but productive conjugal visit the bride is expecting the couple’s second child any day now. The bride will keep her last name (smart move) and will continue working part time as a professional fingernail artist. She wore a lovely sleeveless denim frock from Goodwill Industries with a plunging neckline highlighting fake diamonds and her impressive décolletage. Leavenworth wore a mostly clean T shirt, cowboy boots and a motorcycle jacket. The groom is currently unemployed but is thinking about a career in either pin striping or growing medical marijuana.
Finally, the Tightwad Thompsons combined their Golden Wedding Anniversary with their annual branding held at their luxurious cowboy estate on the upper east side of Desolation City. Rural folks flocked to the holiday soiree to mingle, name drop and brand calves. Local celebrities included Chatty Kathy from the Burp and Belch and the local bail bondsmen. They all waited in long lines at the $15 all you can eat buffet featuring Ground Charles, or ground chuck as it in known amongst the lower classes. The highly sophisticated fun did not end there as injuries included one broken thumb, an impaled horse, one cowboy who gave himself a shot of seven way and five calves that never were branded. Because the couple asked for gifts (not cheap ones either) to celebrate their Golden Anniversary, the Callicrate Bander they got should come in handy if they ever catch the five bull calves again.
When your roving high society editor asked one of the most popular party animals on the social scene, Mrs. Curly Tinkle, about the day’s activities I think she spoke for everyone when she said, “Oh, it’s so exciting I think I’m just going to pee my pants.”
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