You forgot "dirt road you live on is named after your dad because he is the only one who owns land on it." I still ride my dirt bikes on public roads all around my house. I can also step out my front door and shoot my AR15 all I want and not bother anyone. I had to spend two months in Atlanta last year training for my job. I thought I was going to die before I could get back to the country. I now avoid towns with more than one mall or movie theater like the plague. Oh yeah, my name "Cotton" came from growing it my whole life up until last year.
small town life
- Thread starter mx547
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- Jun 15, 2001
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Before I knew we were raising hungry, thirsty, & pissed off rodeo stock on this one circle (we used center pivot motors to pump the water into the tanks), my dad had me get out and break the tank ice with an axe/sledge hammer. Pretty typical job, no biggie. I thought these cattle were a bit big, noticing they were all bearing horns, big testes and bad attitudes--but also knowing that most cattle were well-behaved, I just walked right in amongst a bunch of them and started breaking the ice. I eventually had to hold onto an overhead drip pipe and bust the center out. Well, when those big bulls saw the water come out in the middle, they decided to jump in with me. :scream:
Needless to say, after bouncing around in there with about 5 2000 pound bulls, 3 feet of frozen water and ice chunks, and eventually getting tossed out of the tank, I was a bit sore. :( My dad was just laughing his ass off. :mad:
Needless to say, after bouncing around in there with about 5 2000 pound bulls, 3 feet of frozen water and ice chunks, and eventually getting tossed out of the tank, I was a bit sore. :( My dad was just laughing his ass off. :mad:
- Nov 24, 2000
- 4,787
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- Thread starter
- #28
haha. that's funny.
i probably shouldn't tell this in case there are any peta members here but instead of cow tipping, we used to take bb guns and shoot the bulls in the oysters to watch them jump (oh well, we were juvenile and thought it was funny).
there was this one large ranch outside of town. it had a lifesize concrete statue of a bull on top of the brick archway over the driveway in. about once a year, the bull's oysters would get painted flourescent orange. in that case, i am not guilty.
That sure does describe Homedale (I live in between Homedale and Wilder but Homedale is closer and I go to Homedale school). We dont have an FFA chapter anymore but we did. We had one place that would deliver pizza, and they went out of business. We have a party every weekend out at a place we call "the cliffs" about 10 miles out in the desert. Ive been in the Homecoming parade every year. We dont have a parking lot big enough to ride around in. We dont have a stop light anywhere in the county, and its the largest one in idaho. Senior skip day is in the works right now, so is our party. 90% of the cars in our schools parking lot are 4x4 trucks and cow tipping is something you tell the city folks to go try ;)
John Melloncamp voice on - "I live in a small town..." John Melloncamp voice off.
Thats some good stuff. Going out to eat meant the local hamburger drive in or the boasted chicken house, and the bch meant dad put on his church boots. Everyone went to town to go to the Coop and Wal-Mart on Saturday morning. The only time you got to drink pop as a kid was when you went to the Coop with dad on Saturday morning. Gas stations PUMPED the gas for you. You grew up in the same farm house as you dad. You still refer to the homestead down the road as the old Wilson place, and the Wilson's haven't lived there in 30 + years. You learned how to drive a tractor before a truck/car.
kingriz1, in my hometown or term was dragging the gut. ;)
nephron, I grew up on a farm and had a similar experience with cows in a stock trailer. Problem was I grew up on a hog farm and had never worked with cows before. Give me a slap sick or hot shot and I will take on any hog. Cows, that's another story! :eek:
Thats some good stuff. Going out to eat meant the local hamburger drive in or the boasted chicken house, and the bch meant dad put on his church boots. Everyone went to town to go to the Coop and Wal-Mart on Saturday morning. The only time you got to drink pop as a kid was when you went to the Coop with dad on Saturday morning. Gas stations PUMPED the gas for you. You grew up in the same farm house as you dad. You still refer to the homestead down the road as the old Wilson place, and the Wilson's haven't lived there in 30 + years. You learned how to drive a tractor before a truck/car.
kingriz1, in my hometown or term was dragging the gut. ;)
nephron, I grew up on a farm and had a similar experience with cows in a stock trailer. Problem was I grew up on a hog farm and had never worked with cows before. Give me a slap sick or hot shot and I will take on any hog. Cows, that's another story! :eek:
wayneo426
Sponsoring Member
Say it aint so, PLEASE!?!! :eek:
B
biglou
Oh, it be so! :o
davidboldt
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- Apr 3, 2002
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Cool
- Feb 9, 2000
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You guys forgot that every wedding dance a few locals would invariably end up fighting with whatever guys in the wedding party were from out of town. The ******** wedding dances always served 'rocky mountain oysters'/'lamb fries' and more beer than mere mortals should consume. Your car would sometimes be in a different spot than you parked it the night before because somebody borrowed it. If you needed a few gallons of gas you pulled into a farm and pumped whatever you needed out of the farm tanks and left a few bucks in a gallon jar that was just for that purpose. You also knew which tank was diesel and which was gas on each farm by memory. When you finally turned 18, every liquor store and bar within 20 miles knew it within a week!
firecracker22
Sponsoring Member
- Oct 23, 2000
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LOL!!! I was IN FFA, I remember the snipe hunting trips. Some of the freshmen even fell for it. The Safeway parking lot was the place to be on summer nights, and I never dated anyone from my school. There was only one stoplight, and all our parties were up in the hills and it was NEVER a good party if ALL the trucks made it back in one piece!
Kingriz—Grass judging?!?! LOL!! We had Apple judging. And those jackets were ATROCIOUS especially because our FFA advisor made us wear special shirts underneath.
Papakeith—Heck, in our school, if you were in FFA you were allowed to chew tobacco in shop class and on long bus trips!
I don’t go back to visit that much, but when I do it’s always amazing how NOTHING changes. The same people are still there doing the same things.
Kingriz—Grass judging?!?! LOL!! We had Apple judging. And those jackets were ATROCIOUS especially because our FFA advisor made us wear special shirts underneath.
Papakeith—Heck, in our school, if you were in FFA you were allowed to chew tobacco in shop class and on long bus trips!
I don’t go back to visit that much, but when I do it’s always amazing how NOTHING changes. The same people are still there doing the same things.
Grass judging. Hogs at the school barn, and chapter conducting. I had a pet Brahma Bull. Did not have the heart to steer him. His name was Kojak, he sure was a mean sob.
I passed on the Jacket. Hey did you guys sell fruit to raise money? What about turkeys?
I am willing to bet I was the only Pakistani member of the FFA ever!
I passed on the Jacket. Hey did you guys sell fruit to raise money? What about turkeys?
I am willing to bet I was the only Pakistani member of the FFA ever!
geremacheks
~SPONSOR~
- Feb 14, 2002
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Hard to believe, BUT WE BROUGHT GUNS TO HIGH SCHOOL. And shot them there too. This was in the '60's. There was an actual range inside the school. The local gunsmith taught marksmanship with specialized 22 rifles with peep sights. Popular class, but I do believe it was after regular school hours, one night a week.
I wonder if the local high school could get such a class started again?
I wonder if the local high school could get such a class started again?
geremacheks
~SPONSOR~
- Feb 14, 2002
- 484
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More memories.........Before school in the morning, we would actually gather the dogs and shotguns and pheasant hunt our way to school. Through cow pastures, cornfields, swamps and and woods. Several times a week. The older guy I hunted with had already graduated from high school, so when we got near the school, he'd just take the guns and dogs back while I sloshed into school, often tattered and full of mud--the girls in the hallways and classes just steered away.
But the pheasant hunting! These were wild birds and we would limit out every day. The German-shorthair pointer I had was a hunting machine, and if I decided not to hunt, my older friend would take her out--daily. What a dog! To this day I will not hunt "preserve birds" because of these earlier experiences. It's all fun to think about and was not really a bad way to live. (And hey, I married the best looking girl in the senior class after I grew up a little!)
But the pheasant hunting! These were wild birds and we would limit out every day. The German-shorthair pointer I had was a hunting machine, and if I decided not to hunt, my older friend would take her out--daily. What a dog! To this day I will not hunt "preserve birds" because of these earlier experiences. It's all fun to think about and was not really a bad way to live. (And hey, I married the best looking girl in the senior class after I grew up a little!)
