We trash rednecks for their ignorance and idiocies, but the poor souls who truly earned that name simply have the misfortune of working outdoors under the elements. Sure, the sun beating down on their heads might be the reason why they drive pick-up trucks with bumper stickers supporting the NRA or with comic strip characters urinating on the manufacturers of other brands of pick-up trucks, but often times those with red necks have no choice but to be under that punishing sun.
I am becoming sympathetic to this subculture as I am joining their number. Jobs I take require me to be outside. I put on sunscreen, I stopped shaving my neck, and am slowly seeing the functionality of the hairstyle known as a mullet, but still my neck will occasionally get red. The front of my neck is showing signs of redness more than the back.
What is more alarming is that when I flip channels on TV I find myself stopping at fishing shows and NASCAR races. When I am on the internet I search for “You know you’re a redneck when…” jokes. If I read it is only when I go shopping for bumper stickers.