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Post by ozark on Jan 25, 2009 18:08:14 GMT -5
Since we are what we think we are, I think that I am a country boy.What do you consideryourself to be? I got took by a city slicker not over 8 years old. As a young soldier I had a couple hours layover at the bus station in Baltimore. Figured I would walk around and eyeball the area. I little boy stepped from an alley and a flash bulb temporarily blinded me. He begin: "Sir, my mother is sick and I have to keep the two of us in food. If you will give me two dollars and an address I will send the picture to your Mother or girlfriend." I grabbed my wallet instantly and wrote down my mothers address. Hadn't yet fooled any girls. He got the two dollars for the cost of one flashbulb and naturally no picture ever got to my mother. I am satisfied the camera had no film in it. I sure hope he and his Mama are doing fine and that my two dollars helped. Ozark
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Post by whyohe on Jan 25, 2009 19:00:24 GMT -5
i was born a suburbanite. but in my heart im a country boy. i love the smell of fresh cut fields and to sit out in a field looking at the stars with no light pollution. be able to make a camp fire and rost a hot dog or two and no one around to yell "PUT THAT OUT! YOUR SMOKING ME OUT". to look down a road and barely see your neighbors porch light.
i live in town now. you live where you can afford and put a roof over your head. my goal is to move more to the country. i hope some is left in my are when i et the money saved up.
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Post by petev on Jan 25, 2009 20:19:08 GMT -5
Ozark, you never fail to amaze me with your stories and philosophizing! Anyway, I was born a suburbanite on Long Island, but read outdoor magazines avidly to take maximum advantage of the few trips we made to more country areas. When I got wheels at 18, I traveled all over and worked from West Virginia to Lake Placid New York and a short stretch in the garment district of Manhattan, and a few weeks of driving taxis on L.I. But in my heart the home I wanted to be at was always upstate N.Y., and I bought land up here in 1986, and moved up full time in 98. So, I am a city slicker turned woods and waterman. I still dont know much about farming, and I dont have much interest. I visit the Iroquois Indians at their museum every labor day, and relate to many of their ways. When I hunt I often hunt long distance through the woods, tell no-one where I am going, and relish the freedom and reliving the old ways. It's a better tempo for me than the city. But in defense of city people, up here many locals will take advantage of the city people that come up on weekends, money wise, if they can. It's funny that the individual I hunt with most often is totally country. He is the most natural hunter that I know of, and others say so too. But he has a tendency to the outlaw, not a little bit. Well, he finally went down to N.Y.C. with his wife a couple of years ago, and apparently he started feeling sick from an overdose to his senses from people, traffic, noise etc. So, he the country boy, and me the former city slicker, hunt real hard, share a high respect for the animals, and know that we each will give it our all and not give up, based on a love of the sport. I also canoe alot on rivers, and do whitewater rescue which I am pretty addicted to. I find these threads are pretty stimulating during this somewhat drab time of year here, so it's good.
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Post by chuck41 on Jan 25, 2009 20:34:41 GMT -5
City boy turned country boy here. Grew up in town and relished the weekends and weeks during the summer on my grandparents farm. Spent 20+ years in the military and looked for my little piece of heaven in the country. Located 27acres near Hot Springs, AR some 30 years ago and moved there in '83. Tried raising cows, goats, and groceries and found out I am a country boy at heart, but definitely will never be a farmer. (Or a city boy again for that matter!)
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Post by ozark on Jan 25, 2009 20:41:10 GMT -5
Petev just called me philosophizing.....If he is cussing me he is another one and a bigger one. Growing up as a citified youngster you have sure done yourself proud. My family and I returned from the Panama Canal Zone on ship that docked in New York city. We got our car off the ship and headed west. I think we went through a big hole under some river and came out in New Jersey. Maybe it was a ferry boat, not sure cause I was not really at ease. That was the two years I spent in New York city in one afternoon. Real friendly people though. Everyone was blowing their horns and yelling something at us. I think it was some type of welcome. I sure have a lot of respect for people who can call that place home and learn to like it. You are alright petev. You are a survivor of the first class. Ozark
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Post by petev on Jan 25, 2009 20:51:33 GMT -5
"Petev just called me philosophizing.....If he is cussing me he is another one and a bigger one. Real friendly people though. Everyone was blowing their horns and yelling something at us. I think it was some type of welcome." Ozark I'll admit the kettle is black! ;D ;D Pete
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Post by petev on Jan 25, 2009 20:57:04 GMT -5
Anybody heard of a "Bronx cheer"?
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Post by jims on Jan 25, 2009 21:26:57 GMT -5
My daughter lives in the Bronx, I will have to ask her about that one.
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Post by ET on Jan 25, 2009 22:10:44 GMT -5
Both country boy and city slicker as I am adaptable at either location and the pace of living experienced. At the moment I guess I am a suburbanite living between the two.
Ed
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Post by youp50 on Jan 26, 2009 9:07:18 GMT -5
Country boy stuck in the small town. When we were shopping for townhomes most made me shudder. Out my back door would be...another backdoor. Finally settled on a home that backs up to unsettled land. I have good neighbors to either side and across the street as well. Except I don't think my WW II buddy is coming home.
He is doing better, has a paralyzed side, but can hold his head up. All his food must be strained and he doesn't like pizza, even less when strained.
It must be bad if you can't get along with your neighbor.
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Post by ozark on Jan 26, 2009 11:48:15 GMT -5
The most sure way to have good neighbors is to be one. Aint that right neighbor?
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Post by youp50 on Jan 26, 2009 12:25:32 GMT -5
The man across the road from me is 84 yrs old. Next to him is a house full of young people. They smoke cigarettes outside for the small children that live there. On a Sunday a couple of weeks ago the snow plows rolled after not moving on Saturday and filled Al's driveway with heavy snow. He tried to make it through after church. I looked out and there was Al shoveling away trying to free his car. I went out and helped him, while those ne'r do well neighbors watched. You are right about the quality of neighbors. 'Course it is not always easy to be a good neighbor, especially when they find out you can do things with home heating and plumbing.
I personally find it easier to have someone beholding to me than the opposite.
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Post by ozark on Jan 26, 2009 12:30:19 GMT -5
You are welcome to move next door to me youp50. I have to call for help some now at 80 but people tell me that through the years I have pre paid for assistance.
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Post by petev on Jan 26, 2009 12:33:14 GMT -5
80- congradulations
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Post by fullstream on Jan 26, 2009 13:51:50 GMT -5
Have been countrified for the last 6 years. ;D Have cotton Fields in front of and on the right side of the house, federal wildlife reserve behind and 4 neighbors along our 2 mile dead end street. Had been raised in the city and didn't know what I was missin. Love the fact that my 2 young boys can just go out and ride their four wheelers til their hearts content then come and sit around the fire pit lookin at the stars. Took four deer this year all within shoutin distance of the back of my property. Cant beat target shootin in the back yard with my boys on Sundays. The hour drive to and from work is a little rough but wouldnt trade it for anything. Attend a fairly small church with great fellowship, and my boys go to a great school where my wife volunteers everyday.
All in all its a lifestyle that suits me real good and couldn't ever imagine being a city slicker again. steve
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Post by youp50 on Jan 26, 2009 14:00:41 GMT -5
Mr Ben,
My WWII Pearl Harbor neighbor was always very independent. Almost to the point of fault. He has a newer furnace that vents through pvc pipe out the side wall. They create too much condensation for a masonry chimney. He would always accept a prime piece of venison and loved the maple sugar we make. In turn he would share garden produce and Brook Trout now and again.
I think that accepting physical help left him feeling less of a man. Two winters ago he came down sick. Nothing life threatening, probably influenza. I started snow blowing and shoveling for him and just went down into his cellar and emptied his furnace water out. The sanitary sewer is too high for floor drains here. It took Mert a couple of days until he was comfortable with it. From then on if he needed help I was able to do it with out bothering him.
I hope that you are reaping what you sowed with honor and hope someday to perhaps do a little reaping myself.
PS If I keep hanging around these Doctors I think they may have me room temperature sooner than I should be.
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Post by ozark on Jan 26, 2009 14:24:21 GMT -5
It is my guess and prediction that when the time comes that you require the help of others you will have paid your dues. Always when I felt a little depressed about something it was cured by helping someone that was in need. While still a teenager I and a couple of other teenagers cut a wagon load of wood and stacked it on th porch of a widow woman who was always friendly to us. She asked us inside to eat some peach cobbler and told us that if we ever killed more squirrel than we needed she would sure like a good mess of squirrel. She got them in short order. I later went into the army and each year until she passed away I recieved a Christmas card from her.She would get my address from my Mother each year. It felt good to know that she continued to remember me through the years.
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Post by petev on Jan 29, 2009 14:43:31 GMT -5
I almost forgot, a "Bronx cheer", aka a belch, aka a burp!
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Post by youp50 on Jan 31, 2009 9:02:07 GMT -5
FARM KID in Marines
(NOW AT San Diego MARINE CORPS RECRUIT TRAINING)
Dear Ma and Pa,
I am well. Hope you are. Tell Brother Walt and Brother Elmer the Marine Corps beats working for old man Minch by a mile. Tell them to join up quick before all of the places are filled.
I was restless at first because you get to stay in bed till nearly 6 a.m. But I am getting so I like to sleep late. Tell Walt and Elmer all you do before breakfast is smooth your cot, and shine some things. No hogs to slop, feed to pitch, mash to mix, wood to split, fire to lay. Practically nothing.
Men got to shave but it is not so bad, there's warm water. Breakfast is strong on trimmings like fruit juice, cereal, eggs, bacon, etc., but kind of weak on chops, potatoes, ham, steak, fried eggplant, pie and other regular food, but tell Walt and Elmer you can always sit by the two city boys that live on coffee. Their food, plus yours, holds you until noon when you get fed again. It's no wonder these city boys can't walk much.
We go on 'route marches,' which the platoon sergeant says are long walks to harden us.. If he thinks so, it's not my place to tell him different. A 'route march' is about as far as to our mailbox at home. Then the city guys get sore feet and we all ride back in trucks.
The sergeant is like a school teacher. He nags a lot. The Captain is like the school board. Majors and colonels just ride around and frown. They don't bother you none.
This next will kill Walt and Elmer with laughing. I keep getting medals for shooting. I don't know why. The bulls-eye is near as big as a chipmunk head and don't move, and it ain't shooting at you like the Higgett boys at home. All you got to do is lie there all comfortable and hit it. You don't even load your own cartridges They come in boxes.
Then we have what they call hand-to-hand combat training. You get to wrestle with them city boys. I have to be real careful though, they break real easy. It ain't like fighting with that ole bull at home. I'm about the best they got in this except for that Tug Jordan from over in Silver Lake . I only beat him once.. He joined up the same time as me, but I'm only 5'6' and 130 pounds and he's 6'8' and near 300 pounds dry.
Be sure to tell Walt and Elmer to hurry and join before other fellers get onto this setup and come stampeding in.
Your loving daughter,
Alice
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Post by petev on Jan 31, 2009 14:53:28 GMT -5
"FARM KID in Marines" Paul Bunyan's another good one...
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Post by 12ptdroptine on Feb 1, 2009 19:11:21 GMT -5
city or country isnt always in your address....Sometime's its just in your blood... I was raised in the country. Back when there were only 3 channel's on tv. And there were no program's after the 10 oclock news ..at first anyway. After I married and got home fromthe service we came to town. (32000) people But my home place is still only 6 mile's away. I am fortunate to hunt the ground I played and hunted on as a child. Then I became misguided and lost my roots for a time... And my father bought that ground, 120 acre's And I still hunt it each year..I go out and help him farm it (he is 78) he doesnt hunt..But my son and I do. I like to think as myself as being country... I live 3 hours from Chicago, 3hours from ST Louis 1 hour from Peoria 1 hour from the quad cities... Close enough to use Chicago or St Louis every weekend.. Either Peoria or the Quad cities every day..... But just far enough away from them to keep them outta my hair.
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Post by artway311 on Feb 6, 2009 13:35:37 GMT -5
Born and raised in Kentucky country, lived for a while in Queens NY. Now in upstate NY. Had back problems last summer then spinal fusion in the fall, my neighbor next door did all my yard work . A friend I use to work with made it possible for me to hunt the last few years. There is nothing better than good neighbors and friends.
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Post by Deleted on Feb 6, 2009 14:47:06 GMT -5
Country all my life except for a couple years in a small town while I run the west coast trucking. When I sold the truck to stay home with the kids back to the country never to leave again. Rocky
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