Well, a combination of this and the "Small Town" one. We had Senior Skip Day. And the school closed the first day of Hunting Season (it's not a national holiday?)The time we visited my mother, she knew when we had reached the start of the gravel road about a minute later. My mother's phone was on a party line until well after I was in college (90's). Most of our neighbors had outhouses, except for some of the richer ones, who had indoor 'terlets' when they upgraded to trailers. We didn't live in a small town, but next to one. Mail was sent to "General Delivery". Anybody with a street address was rich. Trash collection meant that you collected up your trash and, if you were a neat-freak, burned most of it up in an old barrel. If you weren't, then you dumped it in the trash pit behind the house. Directions often include things like "holler", "yonder", "the crick", and "that house down over thar where that old lady sits out on the porch in her rocker", as well as many places refered to by their previous owners, up to a century ago. And so on. And then, we fled.

You Know You're From Arkansas When...

"Vacation" means goin' through Harrison on the way to Branson. Down South, to you, means Louisiana. You have no problem spelling or pronouncin' Ouachita or Possum Grape. You know what Toad Suck and Booger Holler are. Your idea of a really great tenderloin is when the meat is twice as big as the bun and comes with cole slaw on top. You say catty-wampus and tumped over. You know the difference between a deer dog, a duck dog and a coon dog by the way they bark. Pulaski County is considered a foreign or exotic place. You consider being a "Beef Queen" an honor. You faithfully drink Pepsi, Mt. Dew, or Dr. Pepper everyday of your life. You know what a "cow drop" is. You have your own secret bbq sauce. You know how to snipe hunt. You or your neighbors have more hunting dogs than you have family members. You visit the Arkansas State Fair mainly to see your neighbor's prize chicken. You've been invited to or had a bunkin' party. You abhor homosexuality, but love "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy." You'd rather be No. 1 in football than No. 1 in education. You think that recycling means riding your bike down the same old path. You think orange barrels are really part of the interstate system. When the forecast calls for an inch of snow, you run out with all the other crazies to stand in line for three hours to buy a month's worth of groceries. You drink sweet iced tea out of a sports bottle. Your traditional Thanksgiving dinner is a deep-fried turkey. You call a shopping cart a buggy. You see "No Hunting" signs are riddled with bullet holes. You think "Animal House" is the training film for incoming athletes at the University of Arkansas The three food groups are Velveeta, pork rinds and a six-pack. Everyone you think of as a "liberal" is either Methodist or Catholic. You think that Bill Clinton is a lyin', cheatin' sumbitch, but you'd still vote for him again in a heartbeat because he's OUR lyin' cheatin' sumbitch. You've "offered" someone an "ass-whoopin'. " When you give directions they include "over yonder," "down the road a piece," and "right near." You're not commitment-phobic: you love God, guns and football. You'd rather have a Budweiser beer museum than a presidential library. You think pinto beans are nekkid without hamhocks, cornbread and buttermilk. Sweet milk and torn up biscuits in a glass is your favorite dessert. You think bagels are nothing but a cruel doughnut joke invented by some Yankee! You eat at Senor Tequila's for atmosphere and Lolita's Tex-Mex for salsa. You say, "I voted for Clinton to get him out of the state." You own three cars and one license plate. You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends from Arkansas.