Who Is Brandon?

Brandon Lee Chase was raised with gravel underfoot and squirrels on the grill. He and his cousin used to shoot cans and patch fences with duct tape and bad decisions. But Brandon wanted more. Or at least, different. He left the sticks and dove headfirst into lattes, lofts, and TED Talks.

In the city, Brandon rebranded himself as a “Southern Reconstructionist,” driving a leased Tesla and starting a blog called “Gravel & Grace.” His videos explained how mud was “an emotional metaphor” and how rural folks “misunderstand their own trauma.” No one back home watched them. They were too busy living.

Then he came back – same voice, new tone, wearing boots that’d never seen a puddle. He parked his Tesla outside the Church of the Carburetor mid-sermon. Reverend Diesel looked at him once and muttered, “Lord, this boy’s got almond milk where his engine oil should be,” then immediately cursed the vehicle with a CB prayer.

Brandon tried to “help.” He called the locals backwards. Said “real freedom means letting go of noise.” Said “torque is toxic.” Said “y’all should compost your beliefs.” That’s when Bubba spit out his beer and said, “Boy, you got five seconds before something real teaches you somethin’ fake.”

A day later, Brandon blocked the left lane in his Tesla, holding up traffic and quoting Nietzsche through Bluetooth. Behind him was an old Dodge. The driver flashed his brights. Brandon smiled smugly. Then came the steel toe.

No charges were filed. Just respect restored.

Brandon showed up the next morning with a black eye, cracked sunglasses, and not a word to say. He got in his car. Set cruise at 55. Stayed far right. And hasn’t touched his blog since.

Legacy

Brandon’s name floats around like a bad smell in a sealed truck cab. He’s not hated. He’s just what happens when you forget where you come from and try to sell it back as enlightenment.

He left with pride.
He came back with silence.