billy's first pig (pt. 1) My name is William Tingle, but I go by Billy. Everybody calls me "W" because my dad's name is the same, but call me Billy. It was my Pop's name and his dad's before that. Tradition is a big thing in my family. Tradition and pigs. But I'll get to that.
I was borne in Star City, Arkansas, population 69. No kiddin'. There's a sign outside town that says so. When I was a kid I thought about addin' some words to it, but I woulda gotten in trouble with Sheriff Aquino and my Pop, and I certainly didn't want that.
I got my first pig in '53 when I turned 13. My Pop got his when he was 13 and my Grandpop got his when he was 12. Grandpop, so the story goes, popped his pig right as it came outta the back of the truck. Just ran right across the yard and blam!! Pop's go at his pig wasn't anything like Grandpop's. Rumor has it, Pop had a big ol' shotgun, started before lunch and ended after, and darn near shot out everything in the barn while he was at it. A word to the wise: if you're thinkin' about askin Pop about it, don't, unless you want a fish story. To hear him tell, he popped his pig so fast he got it before it was born.
And what about mine? Well, givin' how in my family every next generation has to concentrate a little more on the pig, let's just go back in time together and I'll explain it to you this way: