The Privy MindSet

It’s not a usual summer her in Ohio. It’s hot and dry and no one is sprinkling their lawns so the lawns are burned and crushed down from the breakage of foot traffic. The grass blades crackle and make the same sound as crape paper would, if you were to walk on crape paper. The colour is that of wheat. From the street my front and back lawns look like desolate junctions between somewhere and nowhere. Everyone’s lawns are the same. It wouldn’t matter if the lawn was lush and full of growth to the neighborhood kids though.  Once a lush lawn meant a few extra dollars for an enterprising young man pushing a lawn mover down the sidewalk. It meant extra earned money for the Saturday Matinee or a trip to the local drug store soda fountain with his best girl. Not any more. No — Not now. It seems, these days, parents are bringing up a privy set of young men who’s expectations are vastly out of whack.  Gone are the days of ‘make your own way’ and I rather think no one under the age of fifty has ever heard the sayings I heard as I grew up during the 1950’s. But, it wouldn’t hurt if they did hear their parents give a shout out to a few of those old sayings. I think their ears could use the reminder that they are not actually as privileged as they think they are.

I ever believed there was a money bush in my back yard for the plucking of brand new dollar bills although I wasn’t as sure Mama didn’t have a coffee can buried out there somewhere like she said she did. Once my cousin Freddie and I tried to look for one but that was a long hot dry summer too and the ground was hard as rock so we quickly gave up the fight to find it. 

I, a girl, had a lawn mower. It cut like a charm. My kids had lawn mowers. Theirs cut like a charm too. Just saying: things sure have changed.  


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