I’m no spring chicken. I’m closing in on 50 pretty fast. I was raised on a farm where we tried to do most stuff on our own and not borrow gobs of money and get ourselves in debt. When it comes to making money, farming sucks. I learned that its not what you have in your hand, in your pantry or in your pocket that counts. Its not even what you have in your head that counts. Its how you handle it. My father was somewhat of a “doomer”. He could see all of the things that were going wrong. He’s 87 and still going strong. He was thinking and reading stuff on this subject before 99% of the survivalists today could go to the potty by themselves. He lived through the depression and he says we’ve got another one coming.

One thing he always said to me is that all this stuff helps, owning a little silver and gold, storing food, fuel, ammo. (Oh, gosh, ammo! His main hobby is/was shooting, as is mine. We’re set for ammo.) All that stuff helps, but, he always says its about “coping” with the problems. Not eating. Not surviving without money. Not protecting yourself. All are important but the most important is coping with it. He said in the depression, some people would just refuse to get out of bed and they would die. They’d get tired of dealing with the depression and they would be the depression. He taught me that, regardless of how bad it is, if you worry about it and wring your hands and hate life all the time, it will get worse.

I remember some of the simple things he used to do to make things fun. Make it fun! How can you do that, well, there are ways. But, the point is, life is life. You can choose to be a doomer with a frown on your face a live in fear, or, like a matador, you can prance and twirl and throw that cape out there. The bull is trying to kill the matador but, does the matador hate it? No! He loves it! He’s a performer. The bull might get him, but, until he does he flips the cape and the crowd ROARS!

Well, I say to this depression, “COME AND GET ME! …if you can!” When it gets here I plan to have it gutted, skinned and cooling out before lunch. Sound over confident? Not really. I know how well I can shoot and how well I can grow stuff and how well I can protect my family. On some of those finer points I’m a little shakey. I’ll do the best I can but I WILL NOT GIVE UP and I will have fun with it! You can bet on that!

There have been multiple times when I was a young man (11-15 yrs old) that I had to do things that men today would not know how to do. I figured it out. On my own, most of the time. Sometimes Dad would help me a little or a lot, depending. Because I learned that figure it out attitude a long time ago it has settled into my soul. So, maybe I sound a little cavalier, but, make no mistake about it, I am sincere. Lets get this depression train rolling! I’m tired of screwing around with this lightweight stuff! All this whining about this and that when its not even bad yet. (For some, its already really bad.)

I’ve seriously thought about teaching people how to cope with stuff. Its a depression. Get over it. Back to life. Most of the problem with people is they try to go back to their old lifestyle and they can’t. This is “depressing” to them. Change you attitude. Adopt a new lifestyle. Get over it.

Thanks Dad!

Somehow, I don't think he sees it that way. He knows about California's demise. Just the other night he said to me, "The bastards are getting what they deserve!" Heheh. Now you know where I get my attitude.

Honestly, once it all goes south, he says he's gonna laugh and keel over right after sending a letter to the White House saying, "I told you so!"

But, it might be a while before he keels over. He shoveled a path in the 8 inches of snow we got two days ago and didn't even breath heavy. He just turned 85. I just turned 47. I figure I've got 40 years to whip this monster in shape before I'm gone.

Him and mom have been married for 64 years. He's never been wealthy but his life is like a fairy tail to most. I really must write his story someday. Everything from how he used to wake up in the morning with his eyelashes frozen to shut to the time he tried to enlist in the army in WWII and my grandpa came flying into the recruiting station to tell them he was 4F (or whatever it was for an only farm son) and drag him out by his collar to the time he almost won the state trap shoot to the time I saw him roll a coyote running at full gate at 200 yards with open sights on a Winchester 94.

Honestly, it was like being raised by John Wayne!

At 85, I've never seen him drunk. He's never had an affair. He's never been in jail. Never been in a fight. He's never had a traffic ticket.

One of the funniest things I've seen is one day when when I was 16 we were loading cattle. We had about 4, 2 year old bulls we were hauling off to market. He was trying to push them up the ramp into the truck. One of them turned around and decided he'd challenge dad. Dad backed off to let him past but the bull decided he wanted to butt my dad before he went on. *BANG!*. Slicker than shit, dad dropped him. "Nate, go get the backhoe.", "OK, Dad!". Dad always carried is Ruger Blackhawk in 44mag. I called it the groundhog gun. Besides downing 500 pound bulls in a pinch with a single shot, it had also killed about 200 groundhogs the previous year. Both good eating by the way.

We got the bull hung for skinning. I went on and hauled the load of cattle to the yard. When I got home, I helped dad finish the skinning. Best tasting steaks I ever had!

I had a different raising than most. I had a vast amount of freedom to do what I want but I had rules. I didn't get the belt too many times. I never got it when I didn't deserve it.

Well! Now you got me all sentimental. Hope you had a great weekend. Have a great week!