Green Acres

Young and energetic, enthusiastic high school football coaching staffs bent toward masculine virility were common to Rock's experience. They had changed little in his life among them, long before he had begun to record their efforts for papers and such, from when he was among their subjects, but this group at Joe T. Robinson High School took the cake.
Rock drove through a quarter-mile of woods to a clubhouse they had built behind the school. It included a large kitchen, with grills with and smokers spread about and an enormous cooler filled with ice and cans of cheap beer. There was a long communal table loaded with enormous platters of sandwiches and charred meat. The mandatory television—tuned to MeTV—was mounted to a wall, close to several coaches lounged in lawn chairs next to a large box filled with dozens of guns.
Rock was handed a tiny semiautomatic pistol, small enough to fit in a front pocket of his baggy short pants. "You might need this," the coach who had drawn the gun from the box said.
Before Rock asked why a pistol could become necessary, he heard the opening-credit soundtrack to the 1960s sitcom Green Acres. Ava Gabor had just sung, "I get allergic smelling hay,..." and Rock spontaneously reminisced.
"As a second-grader, when this show first came out, that lyric confused me," he said. "To me, it sounded like she was complaining that someone had given her some allergic-smelling hay. You know, as if she were around a bunch of hay that reeked of allergens."
The subsequent raucous laughter from these men surprised Rock.