Poor Country Farm Boy

I went to a poetry slam this Monday and there was this native American Chief who got up and spoke. He talked about people on the Indian reservation and how bad conditions where there. he talked about the cold and hunger. This made me think of my childhood. I grew up on a farm until age 13. When I say farm maybe you could say it was more like a commune because we lived on this farm with other families. The condition would be considered bad to anyone living in a city. I mean I met some poor kids in my life like friends in high school who grew up in the projects and they had allot more then I ever had as a kid. We had no running water, no electricity no TV and not allot of food. My mom was on welfare and lived of of about $350 a month I believe. We never went Hungary to many times but I have felt the sting of an empty stomach. Our diets consisted of mostly rice and oatmeal cooked on an open fire. Not sure if you have ever had oatmeal cooked on an open fire in a cast-iron pan but take my word for it there was allot of black stuff in the food and it did not taste good. We did not have sugar or anything to make it taste better. I remember as a kid me and my good friend ( Matt ) would walk 5 miles to town and collect cans and trade them in for 50 cents and buy some sugar. I am sure my mom never knew about this but yes sugar can go along way with the same old oat meal day after day. To us a dinner with hot dogs was a luxury. However we did not know we were that poor. We did not know what this meant. Later on in life when I saw kids who were growing up in the projects killing them selves for a pare of shoes or money to buy a car or gold rings I never understood this. I always said to myself who cares if you are poor. Family friends and having something to eat was all you needed. But yet kid after kid would pull a trigger for money. I never understood this and even now after being a self made person who could pretty much retire and stop working, being able to have anything I want I still never buy anything that outrageous or try to show off by buying expensive things. I have a theory on this. if you are poor and do not know what you are missing you do not care. Its only when you are poor and see others around you with more then you that you start to care. When I was a kid, super poor I never was un-happy or felt bad about being poor. So money can not buy you happiness. But it can make you happy in the short turn spending it on something cool I guess. But that is short lived compared to friends and family.

THE POOR THEORY
When you grow up poor you either do one of two things. When you get out of being poor you either spend ever cent you have trying to make up for the fact that you were poor. Trying to hide being poor. Buying nice cares and anything else nice. Never having money in the bank. Always spending it. or you do like me and save and invest it with because some where in the back of your mind you are afraid to be poor again. its like my dad once told me he always has to have a full refrigerator because because as kids they never had anything in the refrig and having it empty makes him feel really bad. my pops always grew up very poor in va beach. His dad who I never knew was in the navy. As a little kid this was me. Always afraid of not having anything again. I thank my mom for this gift however because everything I have. All of the great things I can buy I truly enjoy ever minute of it all. Some people would grow up being so rich and never truly understanding this or truly feeling lucky. I feel lucky ever day of my life for the luck I have had.

WHY I HATE FISH
Ok people always ask me why I hate fish it belongs in the country boy blog post. In California they have a place near the rivers called fish hatcheries. Basically the government take salmon and pulls the eggs out and gives the fish away so they can bread more fish and put them back into the wild. Well my mom had us wait in life to get the free fish. As kids we would each hold a place in line. Get as much fish as you could get. I have vivid memories of cleaning the fish with my hands in the extremely cold weather. Hands so cold I could not feel them. We canned the fish with out any flavoring. Oh my got I can taste it still. So bad not fit for a human. Maybe it was the way we cooked it maybe it was just because there was no seasoning but it was nasty. I used to not like rice for a long time also but man who can stay mad at rice :-)

( photos - me digging a ditch with my older bro in the back ground. we worked from sun up to sun down. Very hard labor. First thing in the morning going to fetch water a good hike away in the oh so bitter cold. yes I am very dirty in the photo we did not have showers so we often were extremely dirty. )

So many childhood stories I will have to write more as i can think of them.