Mount Zion Ryan

Every year part of my family exchanges gag gifts from an imaginary extended family named Relaford. In addition to the tackiest cheapest gifts we can find, we also write a Christmas letter from our alter-ego family. The Relafords are every negative stereo type you’ve ever heard about Hillbillys. If you’ve heard the song “Merry Christmas From The Family” by Robert Earl Keen (or the more popular, but not nearly as good cover by Montgomery Gentry) you’ll know the sort of folks the Relafords are. Since we are pretty close to the source (we all have family that shares characteristics with the Relafords) none of this is done is any kind of mean-spirited way. We can make fun of our own family and friends, but don’t you try and do it—you might have a feud on yore hands!

Anyway, I thought my faithful four might enjoy the letter I wrote this year. It was originally hand written on pages torn from a “South Beach Diet” journal. In the date place on each page RayBob (my alter-ego) has written x-mas. (Tacky paper choice is also part of the fun) All misspelling and poor grammar and syntax is intentional.

To Air Family,
What a year its done been! We done had a Su-namee, two Hurrricanes, a war, and much else besides. And we got a kitty-kat.

Chyna Sue and Payton is doing good. Chyna Sue is in the 2rd grade now. I bleeve she’s only the second Relaford to go so far so fast (She’s only 9 year old). We entered her in this years “Miss Hot to Trot” pageant. Its where 8-10 year olds dress like they’re Britney Speers or one of the other MTV girls and parade they stuff around for the judges. If they win they get their pitcher took and put on coupons for “Hot to Trot Tater Tots.” We came in 2nd at the districk. That’s like two or three or four counties put together. We woulda come in 1st but that other girl could riley work them spike heels. We figgered Chyna Sue could keep a practicing and maybe be a drink girl at the Indian casino in a few years.

Little Payton is still chasing the dog, but now he’s got a cat what he can foller too. His arms looked like his momma’s red fishnets from where that cat scratched him. He finally learnt that cat don’t play the same as that dog.

Eulis was leveling his camper in air back yard from where his friend Weasel hit it with his Brat. He was drinking and before he could chug that beer that camper rolled right down the hill into the crick. It just so happens that we got a pregnant naybor named Candi Ledbetter who was getting all worked up and scared over watching FoxNews about the Sunami they had in China. When she looked up and saw that camper floating by, she done fainted dead away. Candi and her baby’s daddy named the baby Sue-Nammy. Ain’t that about as hill-billy as you ever heerd? I mean some people ain’t right. Made me glad to be a Relaford and not a Ledbetter .

Uncle Roscoe was watching on the TV where them folks in New Orluns was getting paid for being flooded so he stopped up all his drains and turned on all the water. Now he ain’t stupid, he took his garden hose and sprayed all around his house with it too. Now, Roscoe lives on a hill and after a few days of that water in his house and him waterin the bank it done slid away and took his house with it. He called the EPA or the FPA or FLEMA or whoever is writin them checks. He told them about how Hurricane Katrita done flooded his house away. They told him that they only help folks what got hit by Katrita and Pine Knob Tennessee didn’t get no hurricane. He’s sleeping in the old Monte Carlo in air back yard now.

Hay Law, I got me a new job. You may remember I done tried farming (pinky mice) and Elvis impersonating. Both jobs failed to yield compensation commiserate with the time and energy investment I was making. Furthermore, neither career lent itself to advancement. Now I’m doing yard work for Jesus. Yep, Jesus Rodriguez cut lawns in uppity nayborhoods. He’s the one what has them signs that say “Jesus mowed this lawn”. I’m really enjoyin it but am a little surprised how much Jesus likes Corona.

I figger since I’m around the Lord 5 days a week we can skip church. ‘Sides that preacher got to talking about how bad drinking, and gambling, and feuding is. So we all got likkered up, bet on who could take the preacher, and started a feud with his kinfolk.

Since I’m working again Felena has past the time with writin a book. After watching Springer for years she finally feels up the the taks of writing a “Ultimate Fan’s Guide to Springer.” She’s been watching about 8 episodes a day (we got em all on tape) to help her write. I don’t know how much she’s got done, but she’s gained 100 pounds, fights all the time, and is always making weird claims about her private life—really not much different than before.

Well, gotta go mail this afore the dirt bike runs outta gas, Felena’s done started it and is waiting to ride me over to town.

Mery Xmas
Ray Bob, Felena
Chyna Sue, Payton
Snot the Dog,
Coon the Cat

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