“There can be no progress without head-on confrontation.”
Christopher Hitchens
Alright, Fence Post, I dee-mand sa-tees-faction! You stand there, challengin' me to either fix the barbed wire hanging between you and your steady partner, or tear it down completely. Now let me think here...
If I reattach the barbed wire to you then the cattle and horses will remain where they are supposed to be: on my prop-tee and off the prop-tee of the next ranch over. Neither he, being a sheep rancher, or me, being a cattle and horseman, would appreciate it. For one thing, the sheep would crop my pasture so short the cattle and horses wouldn't be able to graze. For another, well, I just don't want no goldarned sheep on my land! And neither of us want trespassers of any kind, either!
Now, the last time I tried to fix the fence, you refused to allow me to hammer the nail into your sorry hide. In fact, on the third try you broke the goldarned handle! Then I had to drive all the way into town to replace it, only to find they didn't have the right kind. Sump'em about a mix up at the distributor. So I tried two other hammers. One wasn't heavy enough and the other, well, it were so heavy that when I tried to use it it broke my thumb when you jerked aside. How was I to know you weren't well sitiated in the ground?
So here I am, Fence Post, back with my thumb done healed and a brand spankin' new hammer. I'm ready to do battle and get this thing settled. Now you just stand right there...
Goldarn it! You broke the handle again and nearly broke my thumb again, too!
And my horse just laughed at me!
Where's a goldarn rock when I need one?
c. 2025
*Inspired by an old country saying about someone arguing with a fence post then pitching rocks at it when it wouldn't argue back*
I can picture my grandfather trying to do some of the chores around the farm. I had to chuckle at the vernacular that had your good taste. But some old cowboys had a much more colorful way of expressing things, like, "scum-suckin-sum-bitch."
My grandfather skirted that very nicely, when he accidentally hit his finger instead of the nail… "Judas Priest!"
All I could say while stepping on a rusty nail puncturing my rubber soled tennies was… "Ouch!"
