Loaded

I now have my Kindle loaded with three new books . . . all in waiting to be read during my vacation next week.  One of the freebies I have it Moby Dick, a book I read twenty years ago, but could stand to read again.  I hear it is a classic.

It is amazing how much the Kindle can hold.  I have not yet begun to load it.  It will probably break long before I reach its storage limit.

When I was a teenager, I was a master at getting loaded . . . mostly at loading hay wagons. I was frequently the guy everyone chose to stack the bales on the wagon in Tetris-like arrangement.  The bales had to be tight, and they had to stay in place until they could be unloaded in the barn.

This summer work, loading hay wagons, you just don't see any more.  I wish my son could have this experience of working in long-sleeved shirts (so the forearms don't get scratched to the point of bleeding) in the blistering sun until the hands, arms, shoulders and back scream for relief.  Putting up a thousand bales of hay in one day would also toughen the spirit, bring kids together in a common goal, and often send them home with plans to play football later.  Instead of stopping off for beers, we'd stop off at the market and each drink two 32-ounce RC colas fresh out of the ice chest.  We were skinny as rails, but we'd still lose ten pounds of water weight working in the sun all day.  We had farmer tans.  We talked about girls.  Some of us had one.

I don't see teenagers working these jobs today because they don't exist . . . but I'd put a group of teens to work any day if I had a farm.  I wouldn't let them call their mommas, and I'd bust their butts in the sun, and afterwards, I'd give them lemonade to drink.

Might even be reading my Kindle while I watched all of this.  I hear the Kindle can be read in bright sunlight.