My childhood was spent in the woods in Alaska, Texas, North Carolina and Rice paddies in the Philippines with real jungles right behind that. Was chased by wild monkeys and still have the scars to prove that. Running from maids in Japan and hiding in the bushes in North Carolina. Thank God you and I didn't have to be hidden from the Pedos when we were kids.
I thought I would only live to be 25 and am not sure I even started to live until I was 48.
We are brothers from a different mother! I am glad you found me!
Say what you want about the Air Force, but it does get you out and about.
My problem was always that by the time I realized I should have run away, I had already chased what I should have been running from down, and suddenly was no longer in a good position to avoid the fray.
Fortunately, insanity is taken as dangerous by wild creatures as well as people, and all the bears, wolves, and cougar I've chased outran me by comfortable margins.
I will spare you the story about getting tired of eating little bitty, tasty, squirrels while living off that land in Alaska, and deciding to try a relatively huge porcupine. It's probably more fun if you imagine me skinning it, rather than me describing it, anyway =p
Edit: I just realized that this:
"My problem was always that by the time I realized I should have run away, I had already chased what I should have been running from down, and suddenly was no longer in a good position to avoid the fray."
explains my love life.
Sometimes, there were hugs at the end of the chase. Turns out, I'd rather have been gently mauled by an enraged grizzly...
our contemporary notions of 'parks' are gleaned from the European aristocracy estate's taming of nature as an idolized perfection of heaven. From the age of twelve when we moved from suburban los angeles to semi rural Riverside county, I too got a taste of wild life were there were few if any rules and we were allowed to grow up as we pleased. this provides a certain breadth of freedom that you retain in later years I think.
I too have exceed my expected 'shelf life' by some time as males in my family are notoriously short-lived ;)
Great post which I think points out the necessity of children living less constricted regimented and less tech heavy lives
I once shot a framing nail through 4 fingers and got the mechanic on the jobsite to pull it. After I recovered from the shock. I finished the wall I was working on. I have pictures of the day it happened.
When I shot myself ,I was not doing something I should have not of done. Of which being a carpenter for a lifetime happens often. I hit a knot and the nail came out of that wood crazy and got me. I was framing up a second story of an office building by myself. I was nailing the bottom plate to a jack for a door opening it was only 3''x3'' and it got me. It was the last piece before I could stand up the wall and nail it to the deck.
For most of my life I had to work alone because I could not find responsible helpful help.
I had a few guys over the years, lost one to meth, one to brain cancer, and to many to mention over cell phones(I fired their ass). I did not care if they smoked weed as long as they came on time and did good work. Most of them did smoke. I guess it is a requirement if you want to be creative and work with your hands and back.
The best help I ever had was my wife. I could teach her to do a task in minutes and then I could go up the scaffolding and she could handle it like a lifelong pro.
Most of the times I have been shot was with a pin gun or staple gun trying to hold small parts together for outside corner nailing.
I was not trying to dissect you just trying to find your name. I hate all this stupid anonymous crap where only the government knows who you really are.
There was a time when a persons face and name were what identified them and made them trustworthy of not.
Have you removed all the safeties from your nail /staple guns like me?
If your really in danger you better shut this account down.
You mentioned you drive______ visit a trailer park laundry mat every day. Live in ?? so I think you gave away enough for someone that might be after you to find you. I don't see how a first name would do that. But you should be more careful if you really think someone is after you.
I have given plenty of information about me, but names, addresses, SSNs etc., are just guarantees of targeting.
I haven't been merely harassed, I have been physically assaulted by a snitch in front of my youngest son, and the DA then protected the thug.
The NSA isn't gonna drive here and beat me up, nor go pick on my kids. Locals will. Particularly when I reveal information about the criminal activity local law enforcement undertake.
LOL I am amply supplied with nail pulling equipment, the best being Mark I fingers.
The lady next door, who buries cats in her planters, and names the flies that are born therefrom, recommended I steep my swollen finger with extract of Goldenseal and Epsom Salts, in hot water. That has miraculously reduced the inflammation.
Once, long ago, I pierced a knuckle with a piece of wire that had been coated in pigeon dung, and suffered a similar injury. White coated doctors threatened to amputate my finger! When I objected (I play guitar with that finger), they allowed that they could merely flay it open and scrape the innards clean. Adamant, I held out for a better offer, and they then conceded that they'd let me try a course of Cephalexin, before flaying and amputating.
Thankfully the Cipro worked, and I only had to replace all my gut flora after the antibiotic did it's job.
Accordingly, I recommend making a poultice of common weeds (Mullein, a fuzzy leaf that grows in my gravel driveway) with Goldenseal, Epsom Salts, and hot water. It's proven easier on my intestinal ecosystem - and my wallet. While you're steeping I further recommend the hot blues licks of Samantha Fish on her Cigar Box guitar.
Interesting post. Your childhood lessons should stand you in good stead in your current habitat, surrounded as you are by potentially dangerous animals unlikely to respond favourably to hugs.
No, but it's early yet! Truth be told, the only chance a cop in Dublin would have of getting a hug would be from some exceedingly intoxicated foreign reveller on St Patrick's day.
Time is a blowtorch that steadily burns away that which is not strong enough to survive. A grindstone constantly flinging off the bits that can't hold on tight enough, in the process leaving the rest with a nice, sharp edge.
I have never laughed so many times in a post. OMG. Seals have bad breath. Oh really? I'm only sorry that my "hug" only gives you 4 cents. Oh yea, resteeming for sure.
Alaska in the 1970s must have been a real adventure. But I'm sure, like anything, the thrill wears off if you're growing up around it 100% of the time.
Glad you came through un-mauled by wildlife. But I fear your current environs might be even more perilous.
Not savage beasts my oppressors, but those that told me they loved me, have done me wrong.
When I am faced with an enraged predator, I know exactly what to expect, and can consider what I should do with good information. This is not the case when I am told I am loved.
No one that I knew hated me could have done me the harm that those I believed loved me did.
For this reason alone, I love them that hate me. They do me a favor by being honest. They all deserve bear hugs!
You know were about the same age?
My childhood was spent in the woods in Alaska, Texas, North Carolina and Rice paddies in the Philippines with real jungles right behind that. Was chased by wild monkeys and still have the scars to prove that. Running from maids in Japan and hiding in the bushes in North Carolina. Thank God you and I didn't have to be hidden from the Pedos when we were kids.
I thought I would only live to be 25 and am not sure I even started to live until I was 48.
We are brothers from a different mother! I am glad you found me!
Say what you want about the Air Force, but it does get you out and about.
My problem was always that by the time I realized I should have run away, I had already chased what I should have been running from down, and suddenly was no longer in a good position to avoid the fray.
Fortunately, insanity is taken as dangerous by wild creatures as well as people, and all the bears, wolves, and cougar I've chased outran me by comfortable margins.
I will spare you the story about getting tired of eating little bitty, tasty, squirrels while living off that land in Alaska, and deciding to try a relatively huge porcupine. It's probably more fun if you imagine me skinning it, rather than me describing it, anyway =p
Edit: I just realized that this:
explains my love life.
Sometimes, there were hugs at the end of the chase. Turns out, I'd rather have been gently mauled by an enraged grizzly...
our contemporary notions of 'parks' are gleaned from the European aristocracy estate's taming of nature as an idolized perfection of heaven. From the age of twelve when we moved from suburban los angeles to semi rural Riverside county, I too got a taste of wild life were there were few if any rules and we were allowed to grow up as we pleased. this provides a certain breadth of freedom that you retain in later years I think.
I too have exceed my expected 'shelf life' by some time as males in my family are notoriously short-lived ;)
Great post which I think points out the necessity of children living less constricted regimented and less tech heavy lives
Less tech heavy might be good for me, still. A couple days ago I shot my finger with a nail gun.
I've hit my finger with a low tech hammer before, but never pinned it to the wall.
I'm amazed every day I wake up.
I once shot a framing nail through 4 fingers and got the mechanic on the jobsite to pull it. After I recovered from the shock. I finished the wall I was working on. I have pictures of the day it happened.
It is kinda shocking, when you learn how being less careful than you should be isn't reasonable.
Man, you're digging deep! I clean forgot about this post.
Hope you only learn good things from your dissection of me =p
When I shot myself ,I was not doing something I should have not of done. Of which being a carpenter for a lifetime happens often. I hit a knot and the nail came out of that wood crazy and got me. I was framing up a second story of an office building by myself. I was nailing the bottom plate to a jack for a door opening it was only 3''x3'' and it got me. It was the last piece before I could stand up the wall and nail it to the deck.
For most of my life I had to work alone because I could not find responsible helpful help.
I had a few guys over the years, lost one to meth, one to brain cancer, and to many to mention over cell phones(I fired their ass). I did not care if they smoked weed as long as they came on time and did good work. Most of them did smoke. I guess it is a requirement if you want to be creative and work with your hands and back.
The best help I ever had was my wife. I could teach her to do a task in minutes and then I could go up the scaffolding and she could handle it like a lifelong pro.
Most of the times I have been shot was with a pin gun or staple gun trying to hold small parts together for outside corner nailing.
I was not trying to dissect you just trying to find your name. I hate all this stupid anonymous crap where only the government knows who you really are.
There was a time when a persons face and name were what identified them and made them trustworthy of not.
That's how it works. I was happy it was only an 18 guage pin nailer too! Even so, it pierced the knuckle and swelled up fiercely, thus the poultice.
Last time I shot myself it was again the pin nailer, and just into the meat of the thigh. Hardly noticed =p.
You won't find my name here, or anywhere. I have experienced actual death threats, and have kids. So, no name.
Sorry.
Have you removed all the safeties from your nail /staple guns like me?
If your really in danger you better shut this account down.
You mentioned you drive______ visit a trailer park laundry mat every day. Live in ?? so I think you gave away enough for someone that might be after you to find you. I don't see how a first name would do that. But you should be more careful if you really think someone is after you.
I have given plenty of information about me, but names, addresses, SSNs etc., are just guarantees of targeting.
I haven't been merely harassed, I have been physically assaulted by a snitch in front of my youngest son, and the DA then protected the thug.
The NSA isn't gonna drive here and beat me up, nor go pick on my kids. Locals will. Particularly when I reveal information about the criminal activity local law enforcement undertake.
Which they do. Big money in meth hereabouts.
Good lord. Is it healing okay?
Presumably someone helped disconnect you from the wall and you're not still standing there posting to Steemit with an iphone in your other hand.
LOL I am amply supplied with nail pulling equipment, the best being Mark I fingers.
The lady next door, who buries cats in her planters, and names the flies that are born therefrom, recommended I steep my swollen finger with extract of Goldenseal and Epsom Salts, in hot water. That has miraculously reduced the inflammation.
Once, long ago, I pierced a knuckle with a piece of wire that had been coated in pigeon dung, and suffered a similar injury. White coated doctors threatened to amputate my finger! When I objected (I play guitar with that finger), they allowed that they could merely flay it open and scrape the innards clean. Adamant, I held out for a better offer, and they then conceded that they'd let me try a course of Cephalexin, before flaying and amputating.
Thankfully the Cipro worked, and I only had to replace all my gut flora after the antibiotic did it's job.
Accordingly, I recommend making a poultice of common weeds (Mullein, a fuzzy leaf that grows in my gravel driveway) with Goldenseal, Epsom Salts, and hot water. It's proven easier on my intestinal ecosystem - and my wallet. While you're steeping I further recommend the hot blues licks of Samantha Fish on her Cigar Box guitar.
Just for fun =)
Edit: gawdawful spelling
This is the most fun I've had reading a comment in ages.
Thanks for this post valued-customer, 't was much enjoyed by yours truly. Big HUG ;)
Thanks! A hug is just what I needed.... um, wait. You don't happen to have any venomous spurs, or fangs, or anything, do you?
I can enter the foetal position if necessary! Still working on getting my head past my hind flippers, though.
lol too late! Should have asked questions first :)
I need a hug.
Pythons are not the answer.
55 years of age? Oh to be young again.
Hey, did you see the Liftfoil Surfboard I posted? I thought of you the instant I saw it. 25mph, floating just above the water, silently.
That'll restore some youth!
din't see your post but I've seen it on utoob.
amazing thing, hydra foils..
Interesting post. Your childhood lessons should stand you in good stead in your current habitat, surrounded as you are by potentially dangerous animals unlikely to respond favourably to hugs.
Have you hugged a cop today?
No, but it's early yet! Truth be told, the only chance a cop in Dublin would have of getting a hug would be from some exceedingly intoxicated foreign reveller on St Patrick's day.
LOL
Time is a blowtorch that steadily burns away that which is not strong enough to survive. A grindstone constantly flinging off the bits that can't hold on tight enough, in the process leaving the rest with a nice, sharp edge.
Current philosophy is to never sharpen the blade.
I always expected to be one of the bits flung off in the sharpening process.
Who knew!
I have never laughed so many times in a post. OMG. Seals have bad breath. Oh really? I'm only sorry that my "hug" only gives you 4 cents. Oh yea, resteeming for sure.
Yeah, they eat raw fish, and never brush their teeth. I'm only pleased that my moments of stark, raving terror have brought happiness to someone.
You crack me up. :)
What a wild read!
Alaska in the 1970s must have been a real adventure. But I'm sure, like anything, the thrill wears off if you're growing up around it 100% of the time.
Glad you came through un-mauled by wildlife. But I fear your current environs might be even more perilous.
Not savage beasts my oppressors, but those that told me they loved me, have done me wrong.
When I am faced with an enraged predator, I know exactly what to expect, and can consider what I should do with good information. This is not the case when I am told I am loved.
No one that I knew hated me could have done me the harm that those I believed loved me did.
For this reason alone, I love them that hate me. They do me a favor by being honest. They all deserve bear hugs!
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