An ode to the good ol’ boy named Joey Hoskins


He and I also met in 5th grade. He and Rachelle Gibson (who I had a big crush on) were the first two non LDS kids I met so I naturally gravitated to them. He Lived a couple blocks up from me and we would hang out on weekends when Courtlund was gone, busy, or at church. I don’t remember much about those times; my most vivid memories of the time is when one time we went up to the Chevron by my house we got busted shop lifting Binaca (to this day we are the only ones who knew this happened besides our parents). That was the first time I had done anything like that and of course I would get busted; we got a good scare out of that day. From 6th grade until 8th Joey was living in Clinton with his father. I remember the day he got back and started at Roy JR, we had just gotten out of school and we where walking to my house with Court when he said he could stick a whole Twizzler down his throat with out gagging. Well that didn’t happen and Court and I spent the next five minutes trying to figure out what Joey had to eat that day as it was now all over my road, we laughed so hard at his botched attempt at being cool.


So this where chronologically speaking when Court and I had our falling out had set the stage that would be now the time that Joey and I would start hanging out everyday. We had a bond based off of being smoking cancer sticks, pot, being rebellious and a feeling of mutual hatred we shared coming from the rest of the school that we made sure to deflect back as often as we could. We used to spend our days when we were board  behind the bowling ally making bond fires and trashing anything we could while we smoked cancer sticks as much as we could without making ourselves sick, though we often did. Saturdays we had a ritual of going to the Albertsons and Harmons mooching free samples and then with a couple of loafs of french bread heading up to Anderson lumber to hang out and eat in the lumber yard where they kept the insulation for houses. Saturdays we would also head over to a friends house (who’s name I can’t remember) to hang out with his mom Lori; why, because she used to feed us beer, cigarettes and because we both thought she was hot.


He was the second person I ever smoked pot with, first person ever stoned with. Man that was a wild ride which included fits of laughter so bad that I accidentally busted out laughing while Joey was being chewed out by his step father Bo about not returning a video to Harmons; my sudden burst of laughter caused Bo to then punch Joey in the face because Bo though that it was Joey who did it. we then on our way to Harmons  continued to black out while we walked, it must have taken us two hours to make a ten minute walk. And lastly paranoia like I never felt on the way home (thank you Adam P—— for my first joint hidden in a Bic pin). After that first time we really got into that stuff; we had a Friday ritual of picking up a nickel sack (about a joints worth), a Papa Murphy take n’ bake pizza, rented a few movies and then would head to his house. Then we would in this order: get stoned, eat, get even more stoned, watch movies, then finally pass out. We would spend the night at his house all the time and stay up all night messing with old stereos and listening to the police channels on his moms radio scanner that had a huge antenna in the back yard for, those where some of my favorite nights. During the summer we would both have UTA summer bus passes so we would take the bus  anywhere and everywhere always trying to meet girls in hopes that we could get little attention if you catch my drift (we never did).


Around the middle of 9th grade he changed; he started hanging out in Ogden in the time with a couple of gang member friends of ours and started doing meth. I didn’t see him for months and was worried about him all the time, I missed him a lot and when I did see him he was so angry with everyone and everything and wouldn’t give me the time of day, let alone even five minutes to ask him what was going on; I felt so rejected and hurt by this because I couldn’t understand how he could so quickly turn off our friendship after knowing him to be someone that looked out for me and defended me so many times in our lives even going so far as to be willing to sacrifice himself. It was also during this time that I got closer to his parents because we would sit around all day and talk about life and smoke cigarettes. My trips with his mom to the thrift store was always a real trip because she would demand that we would get stoned first. Joey and I never really where the same after; we always seem to meet up some where and be able to talk for a few, we both try to keep in contact but we are both flaky about it (thank you Facebook for any contact half the time). The last time I hung out with him was over at A.J.’s trailer when he lived on 12th, that was 5 or so years ago.


Joey has always been a strange one, a very sweet person that could take care of people but just as easily at the same time be indulgently selfish. I watched him go through so many stereotype changes that went from one extreme to the next I have always found it comical because they have always been nothing like the redneck I’ve always known him to be. He is now married and has a child (doggy). I have always been thankful for his friendship and I love it when I run into him. Maybe one of these days we will work something out where we can head up to the mountains and let our rednecks show and shoot random things with powerful weapons in the woods. Good ol’ boys to the end.


P.S.: Thank you for getting me into Red Dwarf Smeg Head!


Joey and Bo (2001)


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