Friday, July 22, 2011

Ever feel like you were born at the wrong time?

I'm totally serious.  In this modern age we have of internet accessible everything, constant updates swarming you like an angry cluster of yellow jackets.  The ability to have at your fingertips literally any morsel of information and at least 3 interest groups and a message board to converse and share about the mutual interest of whatever you were looking up. 


Sometimes I just feel like I just don't belong.  Like I was born too late.  I like some of the outdated things that are just novelty that some nostalgic folks try to preserve and hold onto.  Things like horse racing, the sport of Kings.  I can watch them run all day.  No I don't gamble, I've never bet on a horse race I just love watching them run.  There was a time when races were called on the radio.  And not just the Triple Crown either.  I enjoy listening to baseball games on the radio.  I like the creaking of an old wood floor underneath my feet worn down but silk smooth from so many feet traveling over it.  I like wool, peppermint candies (especially York peppermint), midgies (I linked it for the uninformed and for those who may have forgotten) and a Hershey bar with almonds.

I like muzzleloaders, especially the old flint locks.  I really want an old Kentucky Long rifle replica with a flint lock to hunt during Michigan's muzzleloader season.  Yes it can be a long time between click and boom, sometimes it may even misfire, but there is something special about hunting with one.

The fair is coming up here and I know one day they'll have the draft horse pull.  I can watch those big horses pull all day as I love watching them work.  If I had the money, and space I'd love to have a team of Belgians or Percherons to work with.  Heck since we're talking about dreams, I think it would be great to own a horse logging business.  Where instead of tractors, and big loaders, I hook up the chains and my big draft horses would pull the logs out just like they did way back in the day.

I love the work of a good dog.  When instinct and drive are given the opportunity to really showcase what they can do, it is really something to behold.  When you could walk down the road with your dog, unleash them and start putting up pheasants.  Or walk out to the river and limit out on ducks with the dog nailing his marks and tracking the cripple that made up a double.  On a good day limit out before lunch and you know what you were going to have for Sunday dinner.

Speaking of that, how about when Sunday dinner was a special event when you went to Grandma and Grandpa's house, played with your cousins and fell asleep on the way back home.

When a wood splitter was a 9lbs maul and a need to heat the house.

When red and black plaid coats were in the Sears catalog not on some "remember when" website.

I don't feel like an old soul, and I'll be the first to admit I often times don't act like one.  Maybe we just hear about the good times as that's what told to us.  Regardless I think I'd fit in just fine.

1 comment:

  1. I hear you. I am a total techno-phobe...especially when it comes to intrusive things like my 4" leash (cellphone) and facebook (I couldn't take it--I shut mine down!) Although, I have to admit, I'd have a hard time living without Netflix streaming video. ;)