I

f you wear boots and a severe snake bite doesn't rattle you; if your favorite hat just happens to be a 10-gallon, but you don't mind taking it off for church or in the presence of a lady; if you are well accustomed to horses, farms, family and strong drinks; and you find you have a lot in common with Tommy Lee Jones; then you just may be what this month's Portal column is about: a Good Ol' Boy.

Good Ol' Boys are like rednecks with class. They are the cowboys of today who have the charm of a British royal, with the twang of a country guitar. They are champions of the "God and Country" philosophy. Their emotions are generally well hidden, but their sense of duty, justice and honor are worn like the latest fashion. They tend to attend church fairly regularly, they sing all the songs and know all the stories, but that doesn't mean their horse is riding off into the Pearly Gates.

It takes a lot of guts to approach average Good Ol' Boys about their spirituality. A lot of times they'll just assume they're on God's good side, and to question that fact is to attack their sense of honor. It's not uncommon to see Good Ol' Boys as active parts of the local church, along with their wives. A saved Good Ol' Boy may even be the pastor. But their accommodating attitude and dry emotions may hide a deeper lack of actual eternal security.

They sing all the songs and know all the stories, but are their horses riding off into the Pearly Gates?

If you suspect a Good Ol' Boy is not saved, then tell him straight-up. Don't let him intimidate you. There's nothing a Good Ol' Boy appreciates more than the straight truth. He may ask you why you came to that conclusion, but all you need to do is ask him right back how he came to the conclusion that he was saved. If he gives the right answer, say "alright, then, just making sure." If he gives the wrong answer, well, then your door is open. He may not respond and he may seem like he's not listening, but he is. A Good Ol' Boy excels at quiet pondering.