Flyover Country

At their effete cocktail parties, the self-appointed elites living in our coastal cities derisively refer to “Flyover Country” as the unimportant center of America, where the “rednecks” live, which they look down upon as they travel back and forth between the coasts while planning our future. There are more descriptive definitions:

Flyover Country is anywhere in America more than fifty miles from a large body of undrinkable water, polluted air, unkempt ghettos, a university, an Indian reservation, or where immigrants who refuse to assimilate congregate – where folks still think for themselves, aren’t afraid to speak their minds, earn their own living, respect that it is wrong to trespass, value tradition, are proud to call themselves patriots of the land they love, and celebrate the joy of life, rather than perpetually whine about being wretched victims.

In other words, just about any red county on this revealing map of the 2004 Presidential election by counties. The Incumbrepublocrats may have near parity for their two caucuses, but it sure isn’t difficult to locate where they live.

You’d think all those supercilious city folk in Fly-out Country, would have a little more respect for us rednecks in the heartland. Most of us would survive just fine if their overpopulated cities fell into the ocean. But what would happen if we stopped shipping half of the food we produce into the rabbit warrens in those tiny blue spots? Their grocery stores would be empty inside three days, and the metro-fools haven’t even considered that it is rednecks driving the trucks. â—„Daveâ–º