BUBBA SHOWS THE COLORS

Bubba is a southern boy.  He dresses southern casual, talks southern drawl, eats southern fried, chews southern backy, and drinks southern shine.  And he don't care who knows it.  

Bubba came home from work last Tuesday, got a cold one out of the fridge, flopped down in the recliner and tried to tune in Jerry Springer.  Somehow, his southern finger slipped on the remote and he got not-so-southern CNN by mistake.  Chris Matthews was making a big hoop-tee-do about Governor Robert Bentley removing the Confederate flag from a Confederate museum.

Now, Bubba lives in a thriving little town of 1,300 people not too far from Huntsville, Alabama.  Previously, Bubba has never watched CNN but this Confederate flag thing has captivated him.

Next day, Bubba stops at Wal Mart after work.  But Wal Mart informs him that they don't sell T-shirts, overalls or ball caps with the Confederate flag on them no more.  Bubba ain't got no internet.  So he drives all the way into Huntsville.  They got a store over there that sells flags of all kinds.

This lady at the store tells Bubba that, Yep, they still sell Confederate flags.  In fact, there has been a run on them since all the hoop-la on TV.  More and more people are coming in and calling about buying a Confederate flag.  In fact, she generally sells 2 or 3 Confederate flags a week.  But in the last 3 days, she has sold 50 or 60 of them.  People who didn't care about the Confederate flag before are now passionate about them.  It's almost like guns.  People who had never owned a gun just went crazy when the president started talking about getting rid of guns.  Normal people who previously had seen no need for a gun started buying pistols (called handguns up North), shotguns, rifles, muzzle loaders, daringers, anything that might shoot.  Now, it was happening with the Confederate flag.  Seems you don't know how bad you need something 'til somebody tries to get rid of it.

I saw Bubba just tonight right after sunset, in that mystical orange and purple twilight over the Parkway. He had his new baseball cap pulled low, a big chew in his left cheek, his window rolled down and one strap on his new overalls a-lose for extra maneuverability.  He let out the clutch, hitting second gear with a loud CRAAAZOOOP while a thick curtain of black smoke drifted lazily behind him, the way it must've done at Chicamauga.  The last thing I saw was the glorious unfurled blue and red of the Confederate battle flag floating along the ghostly overpass as Bubba unlimbered Old Stonewall, his 1986 Chevy four wheel drive PU.  I tell you the truth, for a minute, I thought it was the ghost of JEB Stuart--charging Custer's yankee cavalry at Gettysburg.

It just don't pay to tell some people that they can't fly a Confederate flag.