A recipe book for raising boys

northjersey.com ^ | August 20, 2007 | PAM LOBLEY

[mountn man]

When I was a young boy, I was growing up on the NW side of Chicago. As soon as school was out, I'd spend the summers on my grandparents farm, in western Michigan.

Time spent walking then eventually running all over the farm in bare feet, over gravel through, cut hay fields and thorny weeds.

Sometimes I'd be fishing for bullheads in one of the ponds. I remember when one of my cousins would stay over with me, there were a couple of times of getting up early, 5ish, just to fish for bullheads. But for young boys of 8-10, that is an adventure.

My grandfather had a shop for repairing equipment, and fabing up pieces. Just a big pole barn with tools, and pieces of this and that, and scrap wood and metal, laying ALLOVER the place. My cousin and I'd try to build carts out of whatever we could find. We'd build stilts and ladders and wooden swords. Boats out of scrap 2x4's or 2x6's, then we'd float them in the pond and bomb them with rocks and mud balls.

Swimming in a muddy silty irrigation pond.

Building forts in the barn out of bales of straw. Swinging on ropes hung from the roof, out over the edge of bales and back. It might have been only 4' or 6' maybe even an 8' drop, but to a little kid it was HUGE, and an adventure.

I remember being just a little guy of about 4, sitting on my grampas lap, steering (with his help) his old Allis Chalmers tractor. I remember learning to drive, on one of his old Farmall H's or M's. (By the time I was 15, I had a summer job at a cemetery, I'd get in the deuce and a half dump truck and drive it around the cemetery, simply because I learned to drive everything on the farm as a boy.)

I have many, many more memories of growing up on my grandparents farm. As a little kid and teen boy, I felt there was nothing my grandfather couldn't do. Auto mechanic, diesel mechanic, carpentry, electrical, plumbing, welding, machining. Anything (in my eyes).

I wanted to be just like him. To this day, there's not much I don't feel I can tackle. And I LOVE the outdoors.

Grampas been gone 13 years next month. Grammas been gone 25 years this November. And as I get older, it seems I miss them more. (tears welling in my eyes right now)

If you listen at all to country music, Alan Jackson has a song called Drive (for Daddy Gene), which he dedicates to his dad. For me it about my grampa Roy.

It was painted red the stripe was white It was 18 feet from the bow to stern light Secondhand from a dealer in Atlanta I rode up with daddy when he went there to get her We put on a shine, put on a motor Built out of love, and made for the water Ran her for years, til' the transom got rotten A piece of my childhood will never be forgoten

It was just an old plywood boat With a 75 Johnson with electric choke A young boy two hands on the wheel I can't replace the way it made me feel And I would turn her sharp And I would make it whine He'd say, "You can't beat the way a old wood boat rides" Just a little lake cross the Alabama line But I was king of the ocean When Daddy let me drive

Just an old half ton short bed ford My Uncle bought new in 64 Daddy got it right cause the engine was smoking A couple of burnt valves and he had it going He'd let me drive her when we haul off a load Down a dirt strip where we'd dump trash off of Thickpen Road I'd sit up in the seat and stretch my feet out to the pedels Smiling like a hero who just received his medal

It was just an old hand me down ford With 3 speed on the column and a dent in the door A young boy two hands on the wheel I can't replace the way it made me feel and I would press that clutch And I would keep it right He would say a little slower son Your doing just fine Just a dirt road with trash on each side But I was Mario Andretti When Daddy let me drive

I'm grown up now 3 daughters of my own I let them drive my old jeep Across the pasture at our home Maybe one day they'll reach back in their file And pull out that old memory And think of me and smile And say

It was just an old worn out jeep Rusty old floor boards Hot on my feet A young girl two hands on the wheel I can't replace the way it made me feel And he'd say Turn it left, and steer it right Straighten up girl now, you're doing just fine Just a little valley by the river where we'd ride But I was high on a mountain

When Daddy let me drive

Daddy let me drive

Oh he let me drive

It's just an old plywood boat With a 75 johnson And electric choke