Miami Dumpsters

Yes, I really could not care less about Miami. My family at one time attended a church down in Hialeah for a short time. The pastor left there to work for Jimmy Swaggart in Louisiana and then there was another pastor, also very good, who now lives somewhere in Missouri near Springfield. One time my sister and I sang a trio with a guy named Mark who imagined himself some kind of bigshot in the youth group. Mark once came to our house for a rehearsal and we fed him dinner. That is about the only thing I remember about him, that his name was Mark and that he came to our house once to rehearse a trio. Other than that I do not remember a single thing about Mark. I really do not remember anything about the people of Miami. I was only there a short time and mostly they are a bunch of rednecks with whom I have nothing in common. It is hard for a college-educated person like me to relate to these guys who mostly hang out in the garage listening to country music and tinkering with the swamp buggy and polishing the gator hide. It's just not my thing. I just don't care what they think about me. Sometimes a person like me must make a choice, whether to be popular with the redneck mental retards or whether to get a college education and accomplish something worthwhile with my life. Sometimes one of these goals must be sacrificed in order to accomplish the other one. Can you guess which goal I chose?