Sinsull:

Well, I grew up in Texas. And I have to admit when you get a group of boys and a snake together down there two things can happen. If it is a non-poisonous snake (we are grilled at birth to identify snakes), a mighty chase ensues with much yelling and scrambling. One boy emerges the victor with the snake in-hand. If it poisonous, a mighty chase ensues with much yelling, and scrambling, and bashing. One boy emerges the victor with a dead snake in-hand.

Closest I ever got to a copperhead was one time when a neigbor thought they saw a non-poisoness variety in their backyard. In the midst of the scrambling and bashing I parted some grass and there was the snake coiled, about a foot from my face. Luckily it was focused on some kids on the other side of the fence. The outcome was pre-ordained.

The closest I ever got to a rattlesnake was when I was working on a ranch in West Texas with 3 of my friends between graduating Highschool and starting Colledge. It was one of those experience jobs, where we were paid $100 a week plus room and board. My Grandfather sold butane to the ranch ownere, and I think he put us out there to keep the foreman from getting drunk everyday. Anyway, I was standing on a twisted Mesquite Tree chopping it away from the fence. There was brush around and it would rustle when I swung. Then the brush rustled on my back swing. I slowly backed away, and then we looked under the trunk I had been standing on. It was horizontal and about 9" off the ground. There coiled, and very angry was a very LARGE snake. The inevitable occured. Here we were all 18 and reverting to 10 year old boys scrambling, yelling, and bashing. The snake was about 6 feet long, and we must have pulled 15 mice out of it. It was in a stupor after eating, otherwise I would have been bit.

That summer was the material books are written about. We learned to dance the two-step (and didn't have the courage to ask the locals to dance at the County Rodeo at the end of the Summer). I got two big blister on my rear-end the only time AB Owens allowed us on a horse. (I was supposed to round up the other horses, and the horse that he put me on was not the leader of the herd. The stirrups were also not adjusted). We learned to drive a stick in a 1953 Chevy Pickup. We got the Border Patrol to come investigate us by running and hiding in the brush every time a plane flew over (until they caught on). My brother chased me with a cattle prod. We bathed in outside in the cattle water storage "tank". I learned to crack a bull whip, and the proper way to rope. I also learned that contrary to what AB Owen said, young bulls will not turn if you stand your ground when you are trying to herd them into a cattle truck. We also found out what happens when young bulls get scared (they get the runs.. No Bull S--T). I found out that I liked ShlitzerAID Ice Cold.

We also found out how beautiful the Texas sky is after a hard day of work, a quart of Iced TEA, and a good meal (The secrets of BAR-B-QUE done right). The joy of friends, no TV, and solitude. I found out a lot about me.

Whatever happened to those times gone by?

JAB

Sorry to wax away, but these are the memories where we forget the bad times and remember the good.