The last Generation

The generation of the 40's through the 60's might just very well be the last generation to be able to say these things and have these memories.

• I learned to drive on a tractor. A ford tractor, keeping it in the rows while my parents were riding in the Potato planter in the back, which dug the trench, dropped the potato pieces in then covered it up.

• I watched and or helped my parents kill chickens by hanging them upside down from the clothesline and cutting their heads off to drain out right there. Then sitting them in a bucket of boiling water (Oh the smell....) to pluck all the feathers off, then after a cut, reaching in through their ass and pulling all the guts out. Where else did you think chicken meat came from?

• I helped my parents catch the pigs to tie rubber bands around their testicles. After a little while they would just drop off.

• I remember standing there watching my Mother milk the cows. She would always squirt a little in a cup for me to taste. Also, she would squirt some in the cats mouth if they were there.

• The only automobiles around were pickup trucks. It was very rare to see a regular car. We figured that only rich people would have any need for one of those weird things. Basically the only choices were Fords and Chevy. The turn signal was an arm hanging outside the pickup that you operated with a rope. Hanging down meant you were going to stop, hanging straight out meant you were turning left, standing up meant you were turning right.

• If I was to find or get a quarter, it was worth getting on my bicycle or horse and ride about 4 miles to the closest little market to buy stuff. For that quarter, you could get a coke, a candy bar and a bunch of penny candy. Cokes were 10 cents, candy bars were 5 cents and lots of penny candies, including little wax tubes filled with sugar water.

• Guns. I had a bb gun at about 10 years old, then a 22 rifle at about 12 years old, then on to a 30/30 rifle and a shotgun later and my dad taught me all the gun safety rules, which basically was don't point it at anything you didn't want to shoot. This is not going to set well with the politically correct crowd but it was perfectly normal in those days to ride out on my horse and shoot anything that ran, flew or got in my sights.
By the way, the last thing in the world you would want to shoot would be a human being. Doing that would be the ultimate chicken shit thing to do. If you had a serious problem with a person, the only brave and manly thing to do was a fist-fight till one said "I give". Then it was over. Using anything but your fists was considered chicken-shit. No sticks, knives, clubs or even feet.

• The only proper way to eat a watermelon was to throw it down, reach in and grab the heart and walk away in heaven. The rest was garbage for the chickens.

When I got in trouble enough for a spanking, my Mom would tell me to go out to the willow patch and get a willow stick. If I came back with one too small, she would send me out for a larger one. Now that spanking was not some little teaser. It was hard, long and heavy and yes, it left marks. Now was being treated that way wrong or did it turn me into a child molester or monster in my adult life? Nope I'm fine thank you. Did I pass that on to my child. No, I worked it out other ways and they worked fine too. Again, to me this proves the politically correct crowd has their mind up their ass.

• After reading this little post on things only a certain age can relate to, if you have any things to add that you can remember, in your OLD age, click on the "Comments" link at the bottom and add your own memories. I will ok it and it will appear in the "Comments' section for others to see.