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Big Boi’s Uncle Darnell is a coooooold piece of work.
Both his height and disposition were a little intimidating when I was first introduced to him a couple weeks back, but after he along with other family members shared the rare type of warm southern hospitality that can only be traced back to our part of the map I felt as if I had been apart of the family for years. Shout out to Uncle Trick!
Remember going to cookouts when you were younger and having that one uncle who would always have a drink in his hand and a cigarette somehow barely hanging on the tip of his lip? Yep, that Uncle D. Minus the cig. A charming, intriguing fellow, indeed. He’s got stories for days and hell of a way to offer a play-by-play. He lives in the community, so he understands its pulse and can relate to damn near everyone who calls the place home — young and old. Pretty much, Darnell is Savannah, Georgia.
My cousin Big Boi spend a fye ass evening down at the bowling alley with his friends and family in the video for “General Patton.” Sir Lucious Leftfoot: The Son of Chico Dusty bumping out your speakerboxx on July 6th!
I know I’m going to sound like somebody’s grandma sitting on the front porch telling tales of how things used to be while gnats swarm around her head, but fuck it.
Before the night life scene ever found its way to my rest stop of a fucking city the only major entertainment the towns people could rely on was attending high school football games in the fall. Friday Nights Light shit.
Our squad was (and still is) an unstoppable beast but our marching band was (and still is) about as flavorful as an unseasoned microwaved chicken thigh. The only time my half ratchet half siddity mama could be bothered with making a surprise guest cameo at Chris Gilman stadium was when Savannah High rolled through with their marching band. Long story short, I think this was the feeling she was always chasing after.