You know what makes me sick? You know what makes me so mad I just wanna get into a butt-kicking contest – with a mule?
I don’t think it would right or appropriate to continue these commentaries without taking one day off – to commemorate, honor and celebrate the life of one Mr. Burt Reynolds.
I have always felt close to Burt… on account of – we had so much in common. In fact – I have often been called ‘the Redneck Burt Reynolds’. Which was weird – because Burt Reynolds was already the redneck Burt Reynolds. So I was always happy to be ‘the other redneck Burt Reynolds.’
Burt Reynolds. What can I tell you? Every woman wanted him. Every man wanted to be like him. So, obviously you can see the similarities.
First off – Burt had the best friends on earth. These would be friends – you wish were your friends. Can you imagine going to a cook-out at Burt’s house? There’d been Jackie Gleason, Sally Fields, Jerry Reed…that little short guy and the real big fat guy. And maybe Lonnie Anderson – if they were talking. That is a freak show of talent, right there. That would be like the Mount Olympic of Hollywood royalty.
But then… you could go fishing or hunting with Burt the next day – he didn’t have no froo-froo, stuck up Hollywood air to him. No sir. And he’d gladly kill anybody who bothered you in the woods. That’s what friends do. And that’s the kind of friend Burt Reynolds was.
Here’s how much I think of Burt. If we was going somewhere together – I’d let him drive. Yeah. I’d be hanging on like a monkey with Kung-Fu grip. But I’d let him drive. In fact – right now I think he found a ramp…and he’s jumping his Trans Am over the Pearly gates into the glorious hereafter. Because that’s the way Burt would do it.
Wake up, America! We salute you, Mr. Reynolds. An American original. I’m Earl Pitts… the other redneck Burt Reynolds. Subscribe to my Earl Pitts Radio Bits. Pitts Off.