See, when living in a rural community that the general
population rarely visits, there are often stereotypes or misunderstandings about that place. Planning any sort of social event is completely out
of the question. “It’s so far away!”—“you live in the middle of nowhere!” and “where
is that?” are all common phrases said by people who live outside of the
community. It’s like, if someone is required to drive more than seven minutes to
attend a social event it may as well be on the freakin’ moon. Although the
distance really isn’t that big of a deal, it’s still far enough away that if
you forget to grab one of your bags at the grocery store, there’s an inner
struggle about whether or not it’s worth it to go back and try to find it. It’s
not far, but it is inconvenient to run back and forth. Thank
heavens for smart phones, they are a godsend to stupid people. Before
modern technology was so accessible, finding my house was a problem. I lived on
a dead end road on the westernist side of Benson. It’s not far, but I’ll admit, if you’re
an idiot, getting there is a problem.
By the time I was a
senior in high school having cell phones was common, so I got real freakin’
good at explaining directions to my house. But now, in 2014 smart phones with
GPS apps have pretty much solved the problem. However, over this last summer
there was one exceptionally bright person that got lost and called me. I asked
in wonder, “well, don’t you have a GPS?” The person then said they didn’t know
how to work the GPS. So, no -- technology doesn’t automatically negate that dummies
exist in the world. But, whatever.
ANYWAY, back to what I was planning on rambling about.
I have one sister who is two years younger than I and a brother who
is five years my junior. Both my parents have worked since I can remember. They
both worked hard to support the family they created. I've told them, it would have
been fine if they would have just stopped having kids after they had me. We’d
be richer, more adventurous and life would be way more lax for them.
Unfortunately though, they had more kids, each one becoming more ugly and less
cool than the first (me). And then, they just left me with those jokers. And I grew to love them! Turns out they're both pretty darn cool. But,
once my brother Nelson was in kindergarten my mom went back to work during the
days. This wasn’t bad…until summer.
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| 2008 -- We really do... |
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| 2012 -- ...just get along... |
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| 2014-- ...now! |
Most of my summers consisted of a daily routine of waking,
playing basketball in the driveway til it was too hot, playing Star Fox on the
N64 for hours, Nelson doing something to annoy me, me hurting Nelson, Beth
protecting Nelson from the torture couch or multiple punches to the shoulder,
and then finally, Beth and Nelson telling on me for defending my sanity. Okay, I
love my brother. BUT! There are only so many times you can run in and turn off
my video games without getting slugged. Or he would say that he'd come out and play baseball with me, but only if he got to bat first. So I would pitch to him. Then, when it was my turn to bat he would drop the bat and run inside -- so I never got a turn! There are various examples of these little brother
moments that my family refused to believe until recently. GOSH.
However, on rare occasions, the extreme boredom of daily
routines would take hold –and the events that would follow, really defined my
childhood. And usually, it involved towing or dragging something or someone behind the four- wheeler.
It all started one day when my friend Tyler came over to my
house on one boring summer day. We had played way too much Goldeneye and
were in need of something to do. Tyler, Nelson and I all wandered outside trying
to find something to kill the time with. We found the four-wheeler behind the
garage under the 80 year old willow tree. We wanted to ride it, but my dad had
attached a small trailer to the back of it. We all sat on the trailer beneath
the shade of the willow tree… and I’m not sure what, why or how it happened, but five minutes
later, a nine-year-old Nelson was driving the four-wheeler through the field
behind our house— with Tyler and I on the trailer trying to push each other
off. Thus was born this day, in the city of Benson, a game called King of the
Trailer.
We each took turns driving as the other two attempted to push
the other off the moving trailer. We did this for hours. And each time we’d finish
I would park the four-wheeler exactly how it had been to avoid any suspicion.
We stayed quiet about it… I’m pretty sure Beth told on us(she was always the most sensible one). That kinda ended
that. So we moved on.
One day my mom came home to Nelson dragging me through our
garden on an old sled. There was no snow, just dirt and old rows of corn. I’m pretty sure it was September. He dragged me in
between the rows of corn as I tried not get knocked
off. I don’t know if anyone has ever been dragged through a field of dirt clods
while running into corn stalks in jeans and a t-shirt,but it hurts. But those
of you who have done that, know how incredibly awesome it is. The pain ended up being
too much for one of us…cough… cough… Nelson…cough.
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| This is how I felt, which is why I liked it so much. |
My junior year I had a small engines class and I (my dad) took the engine off a push lawn mower and rather than using the engine to get a good grade in the class – Nelson and I attached the motor less mower to a 20 foot rope and Nelson hopped on. At this point I think I was 17 years old or so. Anyway, I started out going slow down the road, lulling Nelson into a false sense of security. Then, a brilliant idea came to my mind. I accelerated to 30 miles an hour. My 12 year old brother could do nothing but sit atop the motor less push mower and scream. Then, I hit the brakes, and brought the four-wheeler to a complete stop. I turned around and watched the show. With no brakes or method of steering the spontaneous contraption, my brother did not slow down and he headed straight for the stationary Polaris. His feet began flailing trying to do something to stop, his eyes widened, “Oh shhhhhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiii********!” he screamed. Using his arms as a shield, he crashed into the back of the four-wheeler.
We both sat there stunned, then simultaneously I burst out
laughing and he began yelling. Both of us had tears in our eyes. He jumped off
the lawn mower yelling at me. I don’t remember what he said. I just laughed. I
put the four- wheeler into gear and turned it around to go back home. “You
swore!” I yelled at him, laughing. “I’m telling mom!” The race was on, I will
never forget the image of my kind hearted and teary eyed little brother trying
to outrun a four-wheeler so he could tell his side of the story to my mom before
I could tell on him. I arrived first, but I didn’t say anything to my mom. I
let him go in and tell on himself.
Nelson would ride again...
It was on these boring/awesome summer days that I really grew close to my siblings. We didn't always like each other, but we made memories during these times that make us laugh as we look back on them.
