Hey there fellers. This here is a story bout a show I saw in Nashvulle not so long'go. These here fellers was called RUSH and played the loudest dang musik I ever heard. My aars rung for days. Now, as to why theys called RUSH I don't rightly know cept maybe theys always in a hurry, or fixing to do sum'um, you know, like when yer pigs get in yer neighbors pertunyers and yer in a rush to get'em out. Well, I heared they wuz from Canada, up'bove Yankee cuntry, but we can't hold that'ginst 'em. Sumtimes a man's just gotta go out on the road to make a livin, and I seen some nice rigs pulled up'hind the place, so I figured theys al'right.

Well, they's three of 'em, and the first one was this big, strappin guy with a good old Americun name, AL. Don't even ask me bout his last name, buy we ain't gonna hold that'ginst 'im. Now Al don't look like he's missed to vary many meals. I bet he always says naw if'n he's asked if'n he's eat yit--looks like he likes his taters and cornbread. Well, he plays the lectic geetar real well, makes them strangs sang, cept sometimes he loses his place and starts to frown and screw his face up alot. Might'of been heartburn made'im get lost, don't know fer sure but he looked kinda pained. But, he always finds it ageen and everybody just claps cause they proud for'im. I wuz to. Looks kinda long in the tooth acordin to the hair left on his hed. Thought bout throwin him my John Deere cap, but it was my good'un. There's this punny little feller with this name sum'um like Teddy, naw, hit was Geddy, and I believe the big feller been taking his taters and cornbread too. Probably even his sweettater pie! This here little feller plays the bass geetar and the lectric pianny. I don't care too much for the pianny, ever persons diffurnt, but he makes that bass twang real good. Sumtimes makes a lonesome sound. Now, this here little feller grows his hair kinda long like a womern would, but that's al'right cause he sangs like a womern too. But we ain't gonna hold that'ginst him, cause he's pretty danged good. I don't thank he holds it'ginst the big feller for eat'n his food, ye know. Ye can tell they's frands cause when the big feller loses his place, this here little feller sumtimes would jump 'round and shake his hed 'n'it seems to help the big feller find his place'gin cause he'd start back'a'playin the tune. Seems to hep 'im a good bit. Then everybody claps and yells cause they's proud for 'em. I wuz too. This little feller moves faster than a jackrabit. Don't know how so much sanging comes from such a little feller, ain't nobody hepping 'im. And frands, I ain't even gonna try to tell ye bout his nose. But, you can bet his mama loved 'im--mamas al'ways do. But, the dangest thing of all is this third feller who looks like a good'ole manly Americun, cept maybe a little tuckered, but he's got this here pile of contraptions what looks like ever oil drum and hubcap from Bubba's back yard, plus most of the stuff from his two tractors too and it's all piled up in a circle. And when this here feller sets down in the middle, well, he starts flanging his arms and legs like he'd done set down on a big ole hill of far ants. And fellers, it sounds goooood. And, sometimes, them sticks must get hot, cause he'd toss up way up high in the air, I guess so's theyd cool off a'bit, and he'd cetch 'em thangs purt near ever danged time. People would just yell and clap, cause they's proud of 'im. I wuz too. Ain't never seen nor heared no drumm'n like that before n'my life. Make a man wanna strip off them boots and cut a rug. I can see why he looks so tuckered, I was tuckered out jus'a'watchin him. Names Nail Purt, I thank.

Sum of the stuff the little feller sung bout, I culdn't understand. I thank sumbody in their famlies muster been inta'loggin, cause he sung sum'um bout oak trees'n'maples trees. This little feller a'standin besides me said the song wuz bout human relashunships--but I know the little feller wuz sanging bout trees. That one puzzled me sum'um fierce. I jest figered the litter feller next to me was a'partaking of the jug, if'n you know what I mean. Sung alot bout drivin, too. I wunder if the fellers drive 'em rigs 'emselfs. And, they had a couple songs bout caves. Bout finding stuff in'em and echoes, and all. Must be big caves up'in Canada. And freewills. These here fellers must know some fancy-smanchy lawyer feller who writes wills fer free. We ain't got none of them down here, I kin tell ye. Course we dont cotton much to wills-we jest all divvy it up. Maybe they wuz advertisin for 'em. Some song bout stormy weather. My big-city, know it all neighbur said the name of this here song was force sum'um or'other. Well, the only force I know anythang bout is the local poleese force, which ain't got nuthin ta'do with weather, cept maybe that they's all stay in that there coffee shop when'its'a' stormin outside. Maybe that theres what he meant by look'n out all the time, to see if'n it's cleared up. What I realy felt bad bout was that guy in that moving picture show what was trying to get outta that'there chair. At least I thank that what wuz a'goin on. It wuz kinder hard to tell. Well, not a bad show, but by the time hit was over, I felt like I'd done been rode hard and put up wet. Kinda like ole' Nail looked, too. I'd probably go back a'gin if'n they drift south to God's cuntry. Pretty danged good--they still ain't no Garth tho. But, we can't hold that'ginst em. They's a whole'bunch more to tell, if'n ya'll is intursted.