The apple never falls far from the tree

I had just finished mixing a third Bloody Mary when my father gleefully handed me a blue RC Cola racing t-shirt. He’d been talking about it the entire weekend, even envisioning my wearing it to a swank Washington cocktail party, perhaps under a navy blazer and paired with some white bucks. It was, he kept telling me, an appropriate fashion statement for a man now driving an F-150. And, even more, it was a collector’s item, he explained, given that RC Cola’s race sponsorship days were over.

Its camp, is what I think. Pure Southern camp. Like Dolly Parton, South of the Border, and those “wooden cut-out fat lady bending over” lawn ornaments.

Some years back, my father had gotten involved with RC Cola and its sponsorship of a truck in the Craftsman truck series, now called the NASCAR Busch series. I’m still not exactly sure how or in what capacity. What I do know is that RC Cola sponsored the “86” truck, a blue Ford F-150 driven by Stacy Compton, a journeyman driver who now drives the “59” truck sponsored by Kingsford Charcoal and Bush’s Baked Beans. My father began following the RC Cola team and “86” truck to races in places like Bristol, Tennessee, and Martinsville, Virginia. He even went so far as to buy an Eddie Bauer special edition Ford Explorer SUV to drive to the races – so he’d fit in. And that’s not all. My brothers tell me he once sported a fake beard and camouflage hat at a race.

Lest you assume that my father is your regular garden variety redneck, I must assure you he isn’t. He’s a retired accountant and money manager who lives in one of the nicest neighborhoods in Charlotte, North Carolina, where there are lots of trees and building restrictions. He drives a big Cadillac and drinks Bloody Mary’s. The man personally picked out all the wallpaper for his South Carolina beach house. And, I can count on my left hand the number of times I’ve seen him in a shirt without a collar. If anything, he’s a redneck poseur.

I asked him if RC Cola had approached Moon Pie about sponsoring the “86” truck. What a great marketing combination that would have been. Classic Southern camp -- an RC Cola and a Moon Pie, the original Southern "working man's lunch." Yes, they had, but Moon Pie declined the offer. Seems they thought it wasn’t an appropriate marketing vehicle for the product. We shared a good laugh about that, agreeing that the Moon Pie clientele probably attends NASCAR races. Seriously, who else eats the damn things nowadays?

As I examined the RC Cola t-shirt more carefully, it hit me. My father isn’t a redneck poseur. He’s campy. And, somehow, I’ve inherited his peculiar sense of humour, a combination of Southern pride, self-mockery, and irony. How in the hell is this possible?