Times past

[nw_hunter]

When I as a young Boy growing up in the rural South, One of my favorite pastimes was hanging out at the local Grocery store/gas station/ feed store and listening to the old timers tell tales. Things like the biggest wild hawg killed, or fishing, and catching monster fish. Several of those places were hangouts for mostly retired old fellas that lived nearby. They always had interesting tales to tell, and us youngsters ate it up. There were a lot of peanuts raised where I lived, and most old stores kept them raw and in the shells on the porch to snack on.Along with an occasional watermelon. That might have had a play in the reason for going!

I try to keep the spirit alive somewhat by telling stories to my Great Grandkids.But on the front porch at home, because the old neighborhood stores are gone. They dig it, much like I did as a lad. I think the older I get, the more I like being around kids, and less around the older ones. They tend to listen and enjoy what I have to say. The older ones don't have time for an old codger.

[Ranger99]

I was on the tail end of a
similar childhood.
Old men spitting and rolling
prince albert and bull Durham
and top. Whittling with knives
worn down to just a sliver of a
blade.  Stories about coon hunts
and fishing in the creeks and
camping out on the creek bank
for days at a time. Early days of
the oil boom. Hoeing cotton
and the big tornado in the
early 1900's. Getting to buy
things in the fall after cotton
was done and getting ready to
put up vegetables and meats
until next season.  Going to
town on the wagon. 
Shame all that's gone forever

[Lloyd Smale]

me? it was hanging around the gas station in the 60s as a kid listening to all the muscle car guys that hung there. I chuckle today. they had a coke machine. One of those old ones that had the sliding bottles and it was full of beer. People would stop in and sit outside and have a beer or two.

[Drilling Man]

  When I was growing up, the closest "anything" was four miles away, so we didn't go there much.  And, as I bought the farm I grew up on, it's STILL four miles away, and I still don't go there much.  ha ha ha

  Besides, there was work to do, so until dad sold the cows there was no time to hang out at a gas station or a store, and we had a HUGE garden to deal with.  But my dad did have good "old time" stories about growing up, and also good hunting stories too, as he was born in 1913.

  DM

[BUGEYE]

As a kid I had the court house in Vienna Illinois.
It was surrounded by benches and the old men kept moving around it to stay in the shade.
Great memories.

[ulav8r]

My wife's mom had a store like that.  They called the old men setting out on the porch "Sweaters.  In cold weather they would move inside and set around the coal stove, the first one I had ever seen.  My MIL quickley got them to stop spitting on the floor around the stove, banned 1 or 2 of them for a while.

[ironglow]

Which brings to mind, a story my Army buddy from Vermont related.

  It seems a youngster, fresh out of high shool, went to work in a local sawmill. After a few days, and likely wanting to fit into the culture, he noticed most of the sawyers chewed "backy", so he started 'borrowing' a chew from the old hands.

  After a few days, he noticed a small difference in the tobacco..so he asked one of the donators..   "I notice that when I get a chew from you, your chew is more moist than the others, how is that?"
 
  The old timer replied.."well you see, every now nad then, I spits back into the pouch."

   ..Guess the kid quit chewing, or began buying his  own tobacco..   

  Around here at the general store, the big wheel of cheddar cheese ..every now and then, donated a 'sliver'..of it's ambrosia..