Drunken memoirs. I typed this one night after about

May 25, 2021, 12:51 PM

12 bourbons.

I grew up in the pine tree woods of the SC sandhills region. I had a "clubhouse" that was literally a spot in the woods that I had cleared some brush out of and made myself a stool out of an old rotten log. I'd take our old Beagle Lucy (an OUTSIDE ONLY dog) out there and just sit there in my clubhouse and she'd sniff around. I got a BB gun at some point and would take that out there for protection and try to shoot birds and such. I was probably 7 or 8 years old at the most.

I remember thinking it was a special treat on Saturday mornings to go up to Jimmy Montgomery's store 7 miles up the road (at that time in the mid 90s, they STILL had a pump attendant, which was pretty cool) to get a Coke-olar, a pack of peanut butter crackers and a bag of Big League Chew bubble gum. We went to church on Sundays, and there were only 2 other kids in the same 3-4 year age range as me in children's church. We mostly colored and such. My great-uncle owned turkey houses right down the road and you could smell the turkey doo-doo all day long. I miss that smell.

Instead of getting me a Go-Kart or 4-wheeler like the neighbors had (and by neighbors, I mean people who could fire off 12 gauge and you'd hear the echo rumble through the woods), my dad built me a set of uprights. At the age of 11, I could kick a 25-yard field goal over 10-ft high uprights using a regulation-sized ball. It took a lot of practice to get there. Ironically, I never kicked in a real football game in my life, though my stepbrother ultimately did.

There was a spare room across the porch from the main house. The guest house if you will. It used to be the master bedroom when my grandparents lived there. I remember feeling SPOILED and RICH coming home to find out that my mom and dad (before their divorce), had gone and picked me up a 30 year-old used Pearl drum set (complete with Ziljans). Like, I thought we were gonna be poor because they sprung a few hundred bucks on a used drum set that was sitting in some old hippie's storage unit.

We went to Myrtle Beach on vacation the next summer. We stopped at the Surfside Beach Wal-Mart to buy supplies, snacks and such. I distinctly remember painstakingly adding up every purchase as Mom put items in the cart and then applying a rough estimate of sales tax to ensure we weren't overspending based on my knowledge of the drum purchase.

I'm a millennial. I got in a fight with a kid who would later become an all-state linebacker, and I won. He was black and tough, too. This was in 2nd grade. I watched my dog get run over (luckily she lived), and remember hiding in my room because my crack-addicted uncle (Mom's half-brother) came walking down the long, dirt driveway with a gun after my Dad had beathisass for cussin' at my mama. I saw my great grandmother's house of 80 years burn down in the snow of 2000. I learned what a blowjawb was when I was 9 during the Clinton-Lewinsky scandal. I actually DID have a BB from a Red Rider bounce back from the fence I was shooting at and it hit me in the eye. I didn't go blind or nothing, but that's a true story.

I've never been able to relate to the "kids these days don't know what it's like to go outside or they're so sheltered!" way of thinking. Like you, I think helicopter parents are to blame. Mostly women and yuppie men who think that kids need ALL THE STRUCTURE ALL THE TIME.

I do think that technology will make it worse.

Anyway. I played in the woods and got dirty and got in trouble and got in fights. I turned out GREAT even though my dad used to beat the ever-loving #### out of me with a set of jumper cables.

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I grew up in the pine tree woods of the SC sandhills region. I had a "clubhouse" that was literally a spot in the woods that I had cleared some brush out of and made myself a stool out of an old rotten log. At the age of 11, I could kick a 25-yard field goal over 10-ft high uprights using a regulation-sized ball. Ironically, I never kicked in a real football game in my life, though my stepbrother ultimately did. When I was a boy, my mom took me to a Wal-Mart in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. I remember adding up every purchase and estimating sales tax to ensure we weren't overspending. I'm a millennial. I watched my dog get run over. I saw my great grandmother's house of 80 years burn down in the snow of 2000. I actually DID have a BB from a Red Rider bounce back from a fence I was shooting at and it hit me in the eye. Like you, I think helicopter parents are to blame.

Drunken memoirs. I typed this one night after about

What the heck do you mean by “mostly colored”?

Does it take...

TL;DR***

YOUR UGLY STUPID FACE IS 2 long***

Re: Drunken memoirs. I typed this one night after about

If that summary is too long, try this one:

And again...

Wonder if granny's beefers was fat.***

Kept reading it and expected...

No need to define outside only

Re: Drunken memoirs. I typed this one night after about

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