Chapter 3--Why Don't We Have Any Characters Anymore?
12-16-17 Chapter 3--Why Don't We Have Any Characters Anymore?
I love the old days. In fact if I was born 100 years earlier, I think that would have been great. I loved the life, the stories, the dry sense of humor and the home spun innocent stories of daily life. I watched an interview by Johnny Carson talking to Jimmy Stewart the other day. It was a classic, his slow drawl and homespun humor made me belly laugh. People from the past, things from the past and events from the past really interest me. It got me to wondering where in the hell have all our characters gone too? Today it seems we have thugs, criminals, asshats and the occasional douchebag, but really no characters.
I grew up in a great area where I ran into characters daily. Old cowboys, military veterans or just grumpy ole farts that seemed to have a story or hundred to tell. Did they play pranks on people? Yep. Did they maybe bend the law on occasion? Sure. Did they make people blush when they said something or told a story? Absolutely, and I am way better off for knowing these people and hearing some of the stories. Shoot, even my family has two or three characters in the family tree. Most of my grandparents had passed on before I was old enough to really establish a relationship with them, so when I am reminiscing, I think of the stories I had heard about them. My great, great granddad on my fathers side was given the moniker" The Cimarron Twins" along with one of his friends. There was a story that floated around that the paper in Ashland was promoting a certain person running for public office locally. Now the story goes that most people didn't like this certain person and thought the newspaper editor was stepping in places he didn't need to be. So one morning, when the newspaper staff came into work, there in the middle of the office stood 2 jackasses. Evidence was not conclusive, but the story I always heard was that "The Cimarron Twins" might have been involved. I never heard any good stories about my great grandfather. He worked a lot for the railroad so I can only imagine the stories he could have told. From the stories I have heard about my granddad, I think we were a lot alike. He died when I was 8, and he was in terrible health all during my life, but in his younger days, he was a hoot. One of the many stories I have heard about him was quite shocking. In school in Englewood if you had to go to the bathroom in those days you obviously went to an outhouse. Well one of their classmates wasn't the cleanest person in the world and keep getting the seat wet. After much pleading with the guy, granddad and one of his buddies decided to get even. They ran a wire underneath the seat in the outhouse and wired it to the coil on the other guys Model T. So when this guy went in to use the bathroom he received a jolt that he probably remember for the rest of his life. Problem solved, and in a funny way if you ask me. I can remember Dad telling me that when granddad and his friend got together, dad would ask about these stories because Grandad would always say that it was the other guy and the other guy would always say Granddad was the ringleader. I wish I would have known him better. I have a few stories on my dad too. The best one I think was when he was going to college at OSU. Now, he will swear he had nothing to do with it, but it seems he knew a lot of details about the events that happened, to be totally innocent. So, the story goes, there was a dance going on at the top floor of the student union. It was a sorority dance, and maybe these farm and ranch kids didn't quite belong and probably weren't invited either. So, in a moment of brilliance a couple of farm kids decided to ride a bull that was trained to perform up the elevator and into the dance making a great introduction. Well the doors to the elevator opened and the guy on the back gigged him a little and out on the dance floor they went. They hadn't thought though about them spreading sawdust on the floor to dance. So when the bull hit the saw dust, all four legs went out from underneath him, and anybody that knows livestock knows that when something surprises them they usually empty their intestines. So to save a little of the details, the sawdust was now green. I still chuckle when I picture what that must have looked like. That had to have been a sight. Think back to people you know. I bet you know some characters. People that at least in their younger days were a freaking hoot. We need more people like that. This world would be a better place, and the art of story telling wouldn't be lost forever. Instead, the younger generation is glued to a little screen on their phone texting their live away.
I grew up in a great area where I ran into characters daily. Old cowboys, military veterans or just grumpy ole farts that seemed to have a story or hundred to tell. Did they play pranks on people? Yep. Did they maybe bend the law on occasion? Sure. Did they make people blush when they said something or told a story? Absolutely, and I am way better off for knowing these people and hearing some of the stories. Shoot, even my family has two or three characters in the family tree. Most of my grandparents had passed on before I was old enough to really establish a relationship with them, so when I am reminiscing, I think of the stories I had heard about them. My great, great granddad on my fathers side was given the moniker" The Cimarron Twins" along with one of his friends. There was a story that floated around that the paper in Ashland was promoting a certain person running for public office locally. Now the story goes that most people didn't like this certain person and thought the newspaper editor was stepping in places he didn't need to be. So one morning, when the newspaper staff came into work, there in the middle of the office stood 2 jackasses. Evidence was not conclusive, but the story I always heard was that "The Cimarron Twins" might have been involved. I never heard any good stories about my great grandfather. He worked a lot for the railroad so I can only imagine the stories he could have told. From the stories I have heard about my granddad, I think we were a lot alike. He died when I was 8, and he was in terrible health all during my life, but in his younger days, he was a hoot. One of the many stories I have heard about him was quite shocking. In school in Englewood if you had to go to the bathroom in those days you obviously went to an outhouse. Well one of their classmates wasn't the cleanest person in the world and keep getting the seat wet. After much pleading with the guy, granddad and one of his buddies decided to get even. They ran a wire underneath the seat in the outhouse and wired it to the coil on the other guys Model T. So when this guy went in to use the bathroom he received a jolt that he probably remember for the rest of his life. Problem solved, and in a funny way if you ask me. I can remember Dad telling me that when granddad and his friend got together, dad would ask about these stories because Grandad would always say that it was the other guy and the other guy would always say Granddad was the ringleader. I wish I would have known him better. I have a few stories on my dad too. The best one I think was when he was going to college at OSU. Now, he will swear he had nothing to do with it, but it seems he knew a lot of details about the events that happened, to be totally innocent. So, the story goes, there was a dance going on at the top floor of the student union. It was a sorority dance, and maybe these farm and ranch kids didn't quite belong and probably weren't invited either. So, in a moment of brilliance a couple of farm kids decided to ride a bull that was trained to perform up the elevator and into the dance making a great introduction. Well the doors to the elevator opened and the guy on the back gigged him a little and out on the dance floor they went. They hadn't thought though about them spreading sawdust on the floor to dance. So when the bull hit the saw dust, all four legs went out from underneath him, and anybody that knows livestock knows that when something surprises them they usually empty their intestines. So to save a little of the details, the sawdust was now green. I still chuckle when I picture what that must have looked like. That had to have been a sight. Think back to people you know. I bet you know some characters. People that at least in their younger days were a freaking hoot. We need more people like that. This world would be a better place, and the art of story telling wouldn't be lost forever. Instead, the younger generation is glued to a little screen on their phone texting their live away.
Today on the farm......................You know when you work and work and work and at the end of the day don't really accomplish anything? That's how my day went. Chores, paperwork, sorting and eating a steak this evening, that's how I spent my day. #steakinacastironpan made my evening. My wife is a good cook.
If you like what you read please comment below. Hell, if you hate it let me know too. You can follow me on Facebook. Just look me up, it's under Doug Little. You can follow me on Twitter. My twitter handle is OKREDNECKFARMER. Finally you can email me at bodarkspringsfarm@gmail.com. Until next time have a good rest of the day and catch you next time with the next chapter.
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