I am not from Kentucky but I do love Kentucky.

You can hear the wind move the pines in Kentucky. Hear the echo of jubilee church singers somewhere deep in those pines, deep in time, the baptism of thousands of souls hundreds of years in the making.

You can hear the word of God in Kentucky. Better than anyplace I’ve ever been to. And I was abroad in Jerusalem and Rome before. And I’ve lived in Texas. But God breathes best under the moon and upon the hills and through the Daniel Boone forests of Kentucky.

You can chase pigs on a Saturday morning from Hale’s farm all the through downtown Lovell on Cedar Street, covered in mud, car horns honking, go-carts and four-wheelers racing by.

You can smell grandma lying in the grass, the chords of a bluegrass banjo always rustling godly music.

I do love Kentucky. But I won’t return.

After about a year living to Lovell, Kentucky, I was invited by my new neighbor to a Kentucky Meat Shower.

He knocked on my door and I answered and he had Colonel Adams chewing tobacco in his mouth and a fifth of Jim beam in his hand.

“Come on on over for an ole fashioned Kentucky Meat Shower tonight my friend. We’re whooping up some brisket and ribs and pork. Cheese grits and collard greens, fried catfish, fried okra, fried chicken, fried pie. Shit, fried everything. Mama’s ole and famous potato salad recipe. We’ll have whiskey, beer whatever you want til you get rowdy like all Hell.

“And I’ll tell you brother,” he said. “It’ll be a hoop and holler and shouting fun. Gonna be a whole lotta drinking, fighting and fucking son let me tell you. Yes sir there ain’t no good a time as a Kentucky Meat Shower.”

I thanked him in kind and asked what I ought to bring.

He said, “It don’t make no difference none. Only gonna be me and you there.”

A Kentucky meat shower is a phenomenon much like a meteor shower but instead of giant rocks flying through the night sky it's thick, raw, juicy steaks and occasionally ground beef. The beef glitters like stars in the night while the steaks could pose a threat to your life if it has enough bone in it. So if you're ever visiting Kentucky and want to experience something unforgettable, take your umbrella outside at around 2 am and watch the meat rain down. (Could also be interpreted as a shower in which you wash yourself with meat).... This is 1000% what it means lol..........

I'm afraid to google this... it sounds so, so... dirty. (But maybe it's kosher?)

Kentucky Meat Shower reminds me of the joke Tom used to make, about bending over to pass the soap. Maybe it's a kind of sauce, quite palatable, I wouldn't know. Fried Chicken. I think I'm going to pass and wait for this challenge to be over.

11.21.2023

A bizzarre request, The Kentucky Meat Shower @putski

Have you ever had a moment of how and why?

It came to mind the day Kentucky meat fell from the sky.

How can meat fall out of beautiful white clouds?

They didn't believe it so they gathered in crowds.

Meat chunks were scattered in a small area of their estate.

The owner was making soap when the meat fell like snowflakes.

Now in 1876 big machines were rare.

So when they saw the raining meat, the people drew scared.

Was it biblical or a short sign of ruin? No one know.

But it does mark a place in history for the day when meat fell like snow.

A what?

Don't act stupider than you are now

I really don't know

Oh you know, everyone around here does

Kentucky meat shower?

There you go, now before you enter...

I ain't entering, I don't know what you're talking about

Ah, spelled out like that it looks even better, you seem to know what you're talking about

About... about what?

That thing you said

Kentucky meat shower?

Yeah, what is that? Is that something you do often?