13 Years of Propane and Propane Accessories
King of the Hill was never the hippest show on television. It didn’t break any kind of new ground or make headlines, nor did it inspire any boycotts or public outcry. Like its main character, King just consistently delivered quality week after week. Considering that it received almost no network support, being frequently pre-empted for football and dropped entirely from FOX’s Sunday advertising campaign, the fact that a show could air for thirteen seasons without any indication that the creators were familiar with the concept of “sweeps” is nothing short of astounding.
The fact is, King of the Hill told stories that no other show on TV came anywhere near. King was authentic and relatable. In recent seasons, there were episode about mega-churches, Coldstone Creamery, and children’s programming – this may not sound inherently fascinating, but these are things that the viewing audience could relate to. King never forgot its populist appeal and brought us stories about things that are actually in our lives. Let’s face it, it’s funny that they have to sing when you tip them at Coldstone, and Mike Judge and company know that.
That’s not to say that every single episode focused on the mundane. After all, we had an episode about gun club politics (“He’s got the black vote – Earl. And he’s got the gay vote – Earl.”) that ended with a hostage situation. Or there was the time that Peggy accidentally kidnapped a girl from Mexico. Once, Hank unwittingly became a pimp, and on another occasion he ended up as part of his shinless father’s plot to kill Castro. King of the Hill did loopy just as well as anybody.
But what I’m really going to miss are the characters. Sturdy and dependable, the characters were rock solid. Hank Hill is a decent guy who will always try to do the right thing. And while that might not sound funny, Hank pulled it off. He valued consistency and reliability. Who can forget his reaction to an oil stain in the garage? (“Dammit Bobby, people are going to see that and think I’m a drunk.”) He preached the importance of bottling up one’s emotions, only to break down when his beloved truck finally wore out. Hank’s the guy who got hooked on a Grand Theft Auto-style videogame because he figured out how to make his character a good citizen. From the beginning, Hank was established as a guy you could count on. A guy who loved God, propane, his family, and the Cowboys, and in approximately that order. And while he didn’t give us any Homer Simpson-style antics, he made us laugh for thirteen seasons.Then there’s Peggy, who went from a substitute teacher to a newspaper columnist and ended the series as a realtor. Though she was still apt to break out some of her patented “Musings” at the drop of a hat. (“For my money, kindling is the best wood for a campfire.”) Prone to delusions of 
grandeur and obsessive behavior, Peggy might not always have been sympathetic, but she’s a force to be reckoned with. And their son Bobby might be one of my favorite characters ever. A chubby pre-teen who wants to be a prop comic, Bobby is a sweet but strange kid. He’s sort of like an elderly Catskills comedian trapped in the body of a child. He catalogs what non-food items taste like
grandeur and obsessive behavior, Peggy might not always have been sympathetic, but she’s a force to be reckoned with. And their son Bobby might be one of my favorite characters ever. A chubby pre-teen who wants to be a prop comic, Bobby is a sweet but strange kid. He’s sort of like an elderly Catskills comedian trapped in the body of a child. He catalogs what non-food items taste like (“This leash smells like my GameBoy… but it tastes like a Bible cover.”), and he’s displayed an aptitude for any number of non-traditional interests. The real backbone of the series is the way Hank just doesn’t understand his son, though Bobby clearly idolizes him. They love each other (“If you weren’t my son, I’d hug you.”), but they’re never going to understand one another.
Of course, the iconic image of King of the Hill is the shot of Hank and his three buddies drinking beer in the alley. There’s something about TV where groups of four friends are instantly resonant (Seinfeld, Sex and the City, Entourage, South Park, etc.), and these guys are among the best. Mumbly 
lothario Boomhauer became more than a one-joke character, as he turned out to be a devoted friend with a secret heartache. And for us obsessives, there was Boomhauer’s long-standing vendetta against some dog that we never saw. (Listen to some of his mumblings – he mentions his hatred for “that dog” on many occasions.) Bill Dauterive was one of the saddest characters on TV – a former football hero who never recovered from his divorce. Bill’s been on a steady spiral of patheticness for as long as we’ve known him, including at least one nervous breakdown. Still, there’s humor in despair, and Bill knows how to bring it. On those rare occasions when he gets a win, well, you’ll never see anything more satisfying. And there’s conspiracy theorist Dale Gribble. Actually, Dale moved beyond “conspiracy” a long time ago, and now he’s actively living in a fantasy world. Dale is one of the most consistently funny characters around, whether he’s trying to find the best quality alien urine online or failing miserably to do something sweet for his wife. And for a guy who sees Lee Harvey Oswald clones behind every bush, it’s astounding that he’s never noticed that his son Joseph is Native American, not unlike his wife’s “massage therapist”. Man, I’m going to miss them.
lothario Boomhauer became more than a one-joke character, as he turned out to be a devoted friend with a secret heartache. And for us obsessives, there was Boomhauer’s long-standing vendetta against some dog that we never saw. (Listen to some of his mumblings – he mentions his hatred for “that dog” on many occasions.) Bill Dauterive was one of the saddest characters on TV – a former football hero who never recovered from his divorce. Bill’s been on a steady spiral of patheticness for as long as we’ve known him, including at least one nervous breakdown. Still, there’s humor in despair, and Bill knows how to bring it. On those rare occasions when he gets a win, well, you’ll never see anything more satisfying. And there’s conspiracy theorist Dale Gribble. Actually, Dale moved beyond “conspiracy” a long time ago, and now he’s actively living in a fantasy world. Dale is one of the most consistently funny characters around, whether he’s trying to find the best quality alien urine online or failing miserably to do something sweet for his wife. And for a guy who sees Lee Harvey Oswald clones behind every bush, it’s astounding that he’s never noticed that his son Joseph is Native American, not unlike his wife’s “massage therapist”. Man, I’m going to miss them.And there are so many others. I’m going to miss Joe Jack and his unsettling, but never-remarked-upon, habit of calling Hank “Honey”. Dale’s partner-in-crime, Octavio. Luanne and the Manger Babies, Arlen’s favorite Christian handpuppets. Strickland Propane’s frontman Buck Strickland and his eternally philandering ways. Dooley, the realistic version of Butthead. Redneck royalty Lucky, who made his fortune when he “slipped in a puddle of pee-pee at the Costco”. I’ll miss the Sports Jock and Chad. John Redcorn and his classic rock seductions. Bloodhound Ladybird, whose mother helped track down James Earl Ray. Enrique and his highly suspect sense of humor. Angry neighbor Kahn. And damn, I’m really going to miss Hank’s dad, Cotton Hill. Sure, Cotton died in the second-to-last season, but he provided some of my favorite moments. A war hero who gave his shins for his country, Cotton never missed a chance to tell Hank how much of a disappointment he was. He actually named his second son (from his much younger new wife) “Good Hank”. He was sexist, racist, and full of bile. He killed fifty men in WWII, and reminded everybody as often as he could. I loved that bastard. For my money, one of TV’s funniest lines came from Cotton, recounting his heroics in the Pacific Theatre. “The Tojo’s was comin’ at me faster than I could guts ‘em, so I had to guts ‘em faster!”
And it all ends on Sunday. Knowing King of the Hill, it’s not going to be a big, splashy finale. That’s not the way they do things in Arlen. We’re probably going to get a couple more well-crafted episodes, full of heart and humor, just like they’ve done more than 250 times now. It’s hard to imagine that the guys won’t be out in the alley with a cooler full of Alamo beer every Sunday. It’s the end of an era, and it just isn’t going to be the same without Hank Hill keeping an eye on things.
