The Dead of Night, Old Growth spiders in my brain.

[bitzer]

Great writing Randy. I don't think there are many places left in this country where that kind of fun can be had anymore. Some one has always got to get involved.

My cousin and I talk all the time about what it was like before cell phones and when you could get away with stuff. Now everyone knows where you are all the time. My dad and his would tell stories about how they would leave to go ice fishing and come back days later and the wife still stayed around. Barely batted an eye. Jesus, my first couple of years in deer camp in northern wi our entire camp was banned from every bar in the nearest town. Good thing there is a quck turn over of ownership up there.

My little brothers are just high school age now and I think back to what I was doing and had already done by that age. Those boys are still wet behind the ears coming from the ice cream social after sunday school. Its a sad direction we're headed.

 

[madhatte]

Lol just a few short years ago we played harder than people fight now. It was a different world.
People laughed hard, worked hard and played hard and sometimes they died young.
I am not sure I like this new kinder softer world. In fact I am sure I don't I am already a dinosaur a year before I turn forty.

37 here, and agreed. Can you imagine kids of today playing "BB gun war"?

 

[stihl sawing]

37 here, and agreed. Can you imagine kids of today playing "BB gun war"?

Yup, The ones that had the pump up guns, You avoided big time.lol Those things were powerfull.

 

[madhatte]

Yup, The ones that had the pump up guns, You avoided big time.lol Those things were powerfull.

We had the "three pump rule", which nobody was too religious about following, and which resulted in frequent scraps over welts that seemed too big for 3 pumps. I think I've already said too much.

 

[Eccentric]

37 here, and agreed. Can you imagine kids of today playing "BB gun war"?

We had the "three pump rule", which nobody was too religious about following, and which resulted in frequent scraps over welts that seemed too big for 3 pumps. I think I've already said too much.

Same here. BTDT. 37 as well. Most of my friends are in their 40s, 50s, and 60s. The young bucks at work are a different breed. Their eyes glaze over when I talk about 'the old days' that were only 10-20 years ago...

 

[RandyMac]

Oh yeah, the good old days. Every generation has had them, and every succeeding generation has had the scope of the fun stuff narrowed. It's like the aggression is being bred out of us. Aggression is a natural human attribute, without it, we would still be living in smelly, vermin infested caves. Aggression is what drives mankind, it causes us to push against limits, whether they be natural or within ourselves. As things seem to be going, de-evolution is rampant, aggression/action is being looked upon as un-necessary, bad for society and OMG!! we are going to kill the planet. Crap.
I picture humans turning into pallid Firgrub like creatures, with no challenges in life.

Jack London is said to have written this

I would rather be ashes than dust!
I would rather that my spark should burn out
in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot.
I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom
of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet.
The function of man is to live, not to exist.
I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them.
I shall use my time.

I have used up a good sized portion of my three score and ten, that is what is measured by the clock anyways, in some ways, I have exceded service limits and in some important ways, I have just begun.

 

[drill.daddy]

I will agree with you on this to an extent Randy . Evolution being what it may is not breeding aggresion out of us . We as people , as human being set standards, for ourselves and our children .We teach ourselves and our kids the values and beliefs to make them truely what they are. I believe whole heartedly that technology , while beneficial in its own manner, is bleeding us dry. Ive met people in recent years that cant even hold a vebal discussion without loosing track of the conversation , but text message them and they will blow your phone up with conversation . Agression comes thru tru interaction as people. There are very few people with the gift of being able to convey true raw emotion in text form . Most of which who can ,are getting payed to write for a living . I am just as guilty as the next for uses of technological advancements to make my life EASIER. I will go on further to say that drive and dertermination are falling by the wayside with younger people now days . Spoiled as defined by sir webster is what i would rather emphatically say describes US today . There are far to may morals and values not being taught any more . Aggresion in the right way is not being taught, disrespectfull agression however is coming natural to kids now days . Im not saying my big arse hasnt met its fair share of adversaries amongst a group largely composed of those who partake in a liquid form of corn products. Even with that being said , I quit going to the bars with my freinds for two main reasons,
1. Few people know how to take ass kicking now days , they are quick to pull a gun or a knife. The last fight i was in i got cut , stabbed . Didnt even go get stitched up , only because he missed his mark .
2. there is always some lil ******* in the bar looking to make his name by jumping on the biggest SOB in the bar. At 6 foot 3 , 320 pounds , im often the candidate these vertically challenged ones which seem to be alot less affected by gravity. I mean these lil turds aint got enough butt to make a set of corks dig in . Then when they realize the ass woopin they were politicin for just got em elected , once the election process ensues and the lil politician realizes he cant squirm away , his all to often band of corn swiggin derilicts decide they need to form up a bailout plan for the wee electee.

Bless the little people they have so much to prove

 

[RandyMac]

Wes, I think you cut yourself short (ha ha) on your writting skills.

There isn't a day that goes by, that I don't thank Him for the times in which I have lived. As things are going, I feel more like a relic, a reminder of what was, an echo of a bell long since rung.

I was born in 1955, in Scotia, California, two blocks away from the greatest Redwood mill ever built. We had a giant Redwood stump in our backyard, the town had wooden sidewalks, and an alarm clock that echoed for miles.
My Sis, twin Bro, dog, cat and me.

My Father was a journeryman sawfiler, my Grandfather was the Production Superintendent (cast iron ******* at work, just Grampa at home), about half of my family worked at one mill or the other. Being a millbrat in Scotia was fun, we had almost free run of the place, my Bro and I played baseball in the Filing room with my Dad's Boss, got our butts tanned for walking on logs in the pond, spent many hours with old man Sellers in the hydraulic debarker operator's booth, driving him nuts. We leaned on catwalk rails watching all that goes on in a big mill, the headrig was one of our favorites. We were given matching little hardhats to wear, we were just adorable. We also followed Grampa around, by age 4, while we knew exactly where not to go, the pond was irresistable. A demonstration on why you don't walk on floating logs, did make an impression.
We grew up thinking all this was normal, was going to last forever. As is with all things, the mill, the town, the way of life is all but gone now. Nothing but faded photos, fading memories are left.

 

[slowp]

You forgot the dog.

 

[RandyMac]

Petey?

 

[Greystoke]

That's awesome that you grew up in Scotia in that era. I spent four years just across the river in Rio Hell. Kinda sad to hear the way things were compared to how they are now.

 

[belgian]

I was born in 1955

Dang Randy, you are still a young lad after all....

 

[RandyMac]

That's awesome that you grew up in Scotia in that era. I spent four years just across the river in Rio Hell. Kinda sad to hear the way things were compared to how they are now.

Real Dull? I'm sorry Cody. Were you atleast up Monument Rd?

 

[cpr]

This is the most facinating thread in all of AS. I like, on occasion, to think of myself as a writer. What I have done has sufficiently impressed editors of various tractor pulling magazines to get published.

But I am a piker compared to you, Randy. I, too find that most of my friends are older than I am (32). I love their stories, lack of BS, and strength of conviction.

Sign me up for the pre-order list, hell I'd like an advance copy...

And that's not the 16 year old A. H. Hirsch talking.

 

[joesawer]

It is amazing the things a young person can learn about trajectory, ricochet angles and tactical maneuvers in BB gun fights.
Obviously Hollywood producers did not ever have BB gun fights.
Or even rock fights. Dang the busted lips an scalps would bleed, but we survived.
I am so glad I am not a school child today. They are not allowed to defend themselves but those who prosecute them for defending themselves lack the will or even the desire to defend them.

 

[RandyMac]

Damage

I was up at 5:30 and not happy about it, it snowed again during the night, another 3-4 inches of wet snow, by dawn, it would start raining, again. This crap had been going on for almost two weeks, very unusual for the area, there should have been elbow deep snow by now. I almost gave in to the thought of going back to bed. Instead I trudged out the fire up the old truck and back in for more coffee. Daylight found me waiting at the mill for the rest of the crew, there wasn't many of us. Four drivers including me, one loaderman and a fat old guy for a landingman. This was a mobile operation, we were doing a last chance before spring log hauling. The weather had done bad things to the roads, the USFS was threatening to cut the roads before they were beyond repair. The push was on. It was a motley bunch, men and trucks, only two of the trucks were log trucks, the others were converted hay haulers. I drew one of those, a cabover Peterbuilt with a flatbed, log chocks lashed on by cable. Off we went, our own little parade, we all went in and left the landings at the same, a tracked loader was our shepard. I said bad things, we were going in the same road as yesterday, we had beat the crap outta the road and it wasn't all that good to start with. We all made it to the landing, big improvement over the day before, where one truckdriver pussed out, he didn't have the whereforall to drive with wheels in the ditch. I was third in line, the loaderman had to lift the back of the trailer, to scoot it over, there was no room to turn around and it couldn't be loaded up like a proper log truck. I got three 36" 40s down, two more in the middle and a 5'X32 Sugar Pine butt on top. I put four binders on and got in line to wait on truck number 4. We left at 5 minute intravels, each driver giving the ones behind him a running patter about how the road was handling the traffic. Well, it wasn't doing so very good, small streams were crossing in places, the cutbanks were slumping into the ditches, the formally hard packed gravel surface had dissappeared under squishy red mud. Truck number 2 had a clown in it, he remarked that he had all his wheels on the road, for a whole minute. What a liar. He had run the ditch and crawled the bank some, the road was going away. When I got to that spot, I tried to follow his tracks, with some success, until I got to the tight left turn, this is where the hay hauler had problems, the dratted flatbed was too long, didn't bend around corners very well and had a high center of gravity. I hugged the bank, kept the revs up, the road gearing kinda sucked. About halfway through I heard that buckling sound, then the twang of snapping binders, the mirrors showed the rears on the outside sinking, fast. The road had given way. I did the only thing I could, I straightened the front wheels and floored it, came close to pulling it off. ####### highway rig, humped, jumped and spun, lost headway, the road was winning. More unpleasent noise from the trailer, it didn't much care for being pulled in two directions, with a twist. It only took one glance in the mirrors to make up my mind, time to get the #### out of that truck. I yanked the handthrottle open, grabbed the door handle and got about half of my skinny ass out the door. About then, the road won, it took the back half of the trailer with a lurch, that shut the door on me, the armrest hit me in the hip. Yeah, it hurt. I was beyond worrying about a little pain, the truck was going backwards. I got the door open again and jumped, landing in a ditch full of ice cold slimey ass mud. The last real impression of of the truck were the logs going over the bank and a big cloud of dust. Yeah, dust, two weeks of rain and there was dust, that sight gave me such wonder I had forgotten there was another truck coming down the hill. well, my ears still worked, I heard him coming, crap, time to get up, out of the ditch and do it fast. I didn't know something was wrong until I tried to run, left leg suddenly became useless, I pitched onto my face, couldn't turn over. Things were fuzzy around the edges. The driver in truck 4 was a big guy, a Morman with 50 kids, he was on it, stopped well short, clued in by flying logs, clouds of red dust. I can't remember his name, but I remember what he said "You pray to your God, I'll pray to mine, we will get you home" The next few days was a narcotic blur, I completely missed the drills, saws, screws, metal plates, pins, a yard of stitches. With all the pill shaped happiness, It was four full days before I found out that I had snapped the ball off my femur.

I typed this out a few weeks ago, I rarely speak of it, it's cold sweat and nausea time. Some things are still to close

I had that dammed plate in for a year, went back to work in 4 months, then had another long break after they dug the plate out.

I carried that chunk of metal when I cut this Pine

__________________

 

[Eccentric]

Wow Randy. You'd hinted about this incident before, but never really explained it in detail. I can see why now. That one was a bit too close. I knew there was a reason not to push you for details. Thank God that big Mormon was on his game. More excellent writing. Thanks for sharing it with us. Couldn't have been easy...

 

[Greystoke]

Real Dull? I'm sorry Cody. Were you atleast up Monument Rd?

Nope...right in the middle of town...painter street. Lots of tweekers around, and one of the little maggots managed to steal my nice Honda XL600R that I used to get to work.

 

[Greystoke]

I can see how a ride like that could be seared into you memory! Hell of a story pard...thanks for sharing

 

[drill.daddy]

Thanks for the comments on my writing skills. Its one of those thing where life's inspirational moments seem to take hold and metaphors and similies tend to help describe the mindset at which i approach life's lil debacles. My high school english teacher would be proud to learn that i finally figured out how to use the grammatical directions which she tried to cram in my head like a foot into a leather boot that sat to close to the fireplace overnight . Plus it helps to have like minded individuals read the butchery that has became my ever so loose grasp of the English language . My roughneck mentality and southern origins have never helped my mauling of the English language .

I took a road trip down the coast one year thru Mississippi , Alabama, with a slight twist northward on thru the Carolina's and on up into Ohio. I stopped at a lil road side diner to rest a weary gas pedal and give the state troopers a break from lecturing me on the speed laws of each state i floated thru . I think it was the shear jealousy and hatred that i was from a better state than them . As a matter of fact there was a gentlemen of the law in north carolina that lost all gentlemen aspects when i told him why i thought he really pulled me over . The citations i received on this road trip did more damage to my finaial status than my ever so loving ex wife did. ( bless that kind hearted woman , she must have thought my checking acct needed a spring cleaning

Any way back to the diner , this place looked as if salmonella should have been one of the top menu items. you where certainly gonna get it weather you requested it or not. ( the voyage home was spent speeding form truck stop to truck stop to further desecrate an already devastated public dump site .) I ordered my entree and waited patiently as the waitress/cook/ hostess/ sanitation engineer began to prepare the afternoons delicacies. She finally finish preparing the delicacies brought it to the table and graciously asked would i be needing anything else.... I said " naw" , it was at this point in the engagement in conversation went to my origins. She asked in this ever so educated manner as to imply that my dumb country ass couldn't understand unless she spoke slowly and over pronouncing her words. I said mam i speak english , even your version , and i am from luziana. she said ohhh Louisiana . I said that might be how you pronounce it but everyone from the continent of luziana pronounces it as such . For some reason i think the final statement must have offended her civil minded status. She tromped off like the former Mrs. smith used to when i would say something derogatory in manner to her .

lol . p.s. i think the gravy on the country fired stake was left over dry wall mud that had dried in the sun and they decided to rehydrate it and sprinkle something that looked like black pepper on top. Her tip was left on a napkin it read like this .
" your tip , never assume that because someone sounds different from you that there educational standards are any less than yours I graduated high school with honors in academics, sports and music. Had scholarships to several colleges. i sure did appreciate the polite service and the pleasant atmosphere . good day ."

welcum to luziana