DuckSouth.com

riding in the back of the truck
riding in the back dash of my dad's car
play in behind the skeeter sprayer
playin with tenant farmer kids at my granma's house
hand cranked homemade ice cream
cut off shorts
M80's & cherry bombs, (real ones)
hunting deer with dogs and buckshot, (with no orange)
actually climbing a tree to deer hunt
shucking corn, shelling peas
Showtown USA
back seat of my mom's 225 with a date
ringing victory bell at Forest Hill HS
selling drinks in paper cups at Memorial Stadium in Jackson
charging visiting band members x2 for drinks early 3rd qtr

Man, I miss the hog killings that we used to have. It was a lot of work but a fun time, as the whole community came together and worked all weekend, making sure everyones smoke house was full and ready for the winter. This is something that is dying a quick death in our society for sure.

It wasn't til my freshman year in college that I found out MASH was in color

Turning the antenna to make the tv come in clearer while someone was inside hollering out the window.......little bit..back...back...right there....nope, back a little more...whooaaaaaaaa

playing in creeks all summer. stayin at papas and grans all summer cause it was better than a baby sitter. pulling calves. drinking unpasturized milk from the cooler in the dairy barn (still the best milk ever). 966 tractor with a spring clutch. ridin 3 people on the three wheeler. bottle rockets. Didnt get a cell phone till 23 and didnt want it then. And you know I will turn 30 this year so most of this stuff was only about 20-25 years ago. hmm.

ttt, great thread keep it going

I swear I stood on the seat everywhere I went until I was 5. Rode in the back of the truck a lot too.
Rode bikes all over town with no worries. Bottle rocket wars. riding the go cart dow the street with the shotguns in our lap to go rabbit hunting just outside of town.

I remember my mom stepping into the drive and hollering my name to come home about dark. She knew I would be somewhere in the neighborhood.

Great memories

Denduke wrote:No more drawin water, johnny pots. The ole man done left Drew County, Ark., joined the AirForce and graduated OCS and was a 2nd Leutenant. Hot Dam! Color camera. Circa 1960 Biloxi...11 yrs old. Catch and release was not concept then... We went ereywhere on bicycles...paper route, etc. Playin doctor with the cousins was the other deal, Amwoodie
Back then woodies were protected in Ark.
Later DL

Wait a minute. You played doctor with your cousins in Arkansas?!?!
I always heard of things like that happening across the river, but dam brotha.

My mom used to holler when it was time for me to high tail it home. I don't know if it was just me but could anyone else keep track of time much easier when you were a kid? I'm talking no watch, phone, etc just knowing what time it was almost on the dot?

Tryin to have too much fun here....PM'd ya JB....

Anybody else sneak into the drive-in movies in the trunk of a 69 GTO? Saw some great titles "Gas Pump Girls" and "Wet T-Shirts"
During the summer, out the door at around 9am and back in at dark. Someones mom in the neighborhood would feed everyone lunch.
No shoes from May til Sept, except on Sunday.
Big custom vans with murals, shag carpet, mini fridge, and reclining rear bench seats!
Plastic, banana shaped skateboards with wheels as hard as rocks. Bikes with banana seats.
Incense, bell bottoms (the first time around), and big butterfly collars.

Incense, bell bottoms (the first time around), and big butterfly collars.
Elvis..........is that you?

Leisure suit my man.........stylin in tha leisure suit!

Otasco "FLYING O". My older brother had a chopped 750 Honda and i thought i needed one so
he chopped my FLYING O with some pipe we had laying around the shop and then i topped
if off with some ape hangers and installed a sissy bar on the back of my banana seat.
It was bad to da bone! Of course that was back in the "Easy Rider" days. I even had
a deer hide jacket with the thingy's hangin off of the arms.
I was the "Dirt Road Sport".

Disk fields with an old JD 630 trike with the hand clutch. I used to go to sleep with at night and my dad would still be running that thing in the bottom. I swear on some nights I still hear that thing in the distance, Bop Bop Bop Bop,,,,,,,,,,

Dad milking the cow and squirting streams towards the kittens, churning buttermilk, molds of real butter, ice cream made w/ real milk that left butterfat on the roof of your mouth, blowing pine stumps out of the new ground with dynamite after my brothers sawed ALL the trees down with a crosscut saw (no kidding), picking up roots almost every working day for three years, raking hay with one of those old timey hay rakes you see going to rust, throwing the hay on a trailer with a pitchfork, moving to Mississippi just to start all over again with the land clearing and root grubbing, building a barn, picking the ten acre corn bottom by hand and throwing it into piles to be picked up by hand, shucking and shelling that corn with a hand sheller into the big wooden box, hauling 68 Chevy loads of it (with sideplanks on) to the mill in Winona to get it ground into sweetfeed, the smell of that sweetfeed, looking for gunny sacks with no holes, putting the feist into the empty gunny sack barrel to chase the mice round and round the bottom of it, the 55 gallon drum full of dried peanuts, tossing shelled peanuts to that feist, splitting hickory and keeping the smoke house fire smouldering, the day we decided to kill all SEVEN hogs at once (not smart), cutting hay in June and in August...3000 square bales picked up, stacked on the truck, unloaded into the hayloft and stacked again one at a time, watching that 3000 bales of hay and ten acres worth of just picked corn burn to a crisp in the barn along with both tractors, both trailers and the 68 pickup with the sideplanks on loaded w/ corn (while Charlie's Angels was on), finding the corn sheller after the fire, building another barn,tearing down the gin at Bellefountain to get the used tin for the new barn, tearing down tenent houses on the place, digging a gazillion post holes with a hand digger, splitting a bazillion oak sticks for firewood and hauling it, the roaring fires we had every day...all day, banking the fire at night, getting old enough to defy momma and hunt and fish on Sundays, walking up doves around the cornfield, hunting quail with English pointers all over creation, finding a deer track and taking the whole family to look at it, plucking every duck killed, fly fishing with Daddy, killing moccasins and skinning them out to dry on a board, squeezing moccasin piss into my face on the first one I skinned, trying to figure out what in the hell a cynbahackle tv station meant,the thirty minute to endless terracina motors commercials on late night movies, live wrestling on the greenwood station...and later dating one of the card girls at Holmes Junior, large time at Grapes Camp the night it burned...goodnight!

Putting cards in the spokes of your bike.... .75+- cent/gallon gas...... supper bubble gum 2 for a penny......

Bill Collector, I remember in about 66 or so travelling west to Mississippi from South Carolina on 80 and my father would look for "rabbit" stations...locally owned....I well remember 17 cent gas and for a long time it was 21 to 28 cents.