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When I Was a Growing Up We Had Guns
Just a cliff or two and a couple miles to the river to fish for supper.
Life be told of a life different.
Yes mam and yes sir. I drove a pickup truck at 14. And sitting next to me was a Colt revolver and in the rack a Remington rifle. That just was the way it was. I cleaned 'em and cared for them and shot them.
Not a choice but a reality, There was bear out there and mountain Panthers and rattle snakes and I heard tell of men that would do me wrong. Never met a single one. But by golly I knew they was there.
Picture silly old me. I am barefoot and at the gas pump you literally had to get out and pump, I mean pump and prime a pump to siphon gas up into the pickup. I ain't got no shoes and I am bare chested. I got cut of jeans on with a rope holding them up cuz they is my big brother's pants.
I was a pup but I could hold that colt steady and shoot a Crow's eye out from a bit over 100 yards. And I could pick a good chucking stone and kill a squirrel from thirty yards.
(OK not really that good but close. If that is what you do all day long from 8-14 you get good at it)
Ain't too many things these old boys cannot do.
Now that above is a bit of a long tale.
But the age is close and somewhere in my family we still have that 53 chevy pick em up truck. And I can shoot still the eye out of a bird on the wing if it give to me a square shot.
But in fact my family did not much cotton to guns. But I did have a self made bow and a sling shot that you could not run away from.
I have shot my share of critters but generally it has been by self made projectile launchers. or rocks.
The gasoline and the truck and the age is right along with my britches and shoes. But my buddy Gary road with me a bunch and did carry around them guns,
I was raised in a time warp. My family did in fact get their deed from a homestead. Who negotiated with Piute for the rights. And there was always a bear or "cat" hanging in the ice house across the creek. And I only wore shoes to go to kindergarten, and that was a tussle,
There really are folk like us that grew up this way.
I really did grow up with red dirt more in my hair than shampoo.
One time I spent the best part of a day tracking a rattlesnake. And that is tough through tall grass. I dang sure peed my pants when I caught up to him or I think a her.
One day I spent a week digging an irrigation ditch about 40 yards long to water some gourds and berries. It took a week because I only used rocks and sticks like I envisioned how the old Piute did it. I grew up on land with one deed from a homestead called Indian Gardens.
Believe it or not this stuff has a point If you want to get a lesson from all this read the next little segment.
Hi my name is Eric and what you call tough, I call heaven
From that time forward I have lived in Paris, France, Puebla Mexico, Saigon(currently known as Ho Chi Minh City), San Diego and outside of Boston.
I have closed business to government deals in a dozen more cities. And can relate about Pigalle, the Zona Rosa and District One and I crossed the iron curtain a half dozen times for fun.
You think this is about me. ..well you are wrong.
The whole story is about you!
You grew up your own special way. You are special. Just look back and instead of bemoaning things look for the fun and different and embellish it a little and day dream a little about the great stuff you had as some kid somewhere with a great story to tell. I would like to hear it.
Later on I spent some time around the courts to please take heed.
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