This post marks the first guest post in a series. This week is about looking back and looking forward, how we were raised, what we think of the police... now and then, parenting, family, and life through the teenager today. I guarantee the people you are going to meet will inspire, enlighten, and tickle your funny bone...all while we get serious. I think you will find the masters behind these blogs interesting and a part of what makes America great...tag along with all of us.
Dee...at Redheaded Stepchild has gratiously accepted the challenge. She posts a variety of topics...keeps it lively...and hosts Say Anything where several bloggers are featured in a very unselfish blog boosting lots of good reads. She gives a lot back without asking anything in return. She interacts with bloggers and is a fireball behind her blog that I really enjoy talking to and sharing conversations with... a lovely lady...a smart cookie...here is Dee...
I spent my "growing up" years on a ranch in the SW Missouri Ozark hills. Our small family pretty much stuck to themselves, and had our own set of ethics we lived by. There might as well have been a big sign at the end of our long driveway that said Go Away. It was a seclusion that I liked, and began my lifelong journey to keep.
The friends I made, the life I lead, all contributed to producing an ornery redneck tomboy. I embraced the heritage. Probably too much so, during my teens, when I was constantly pulling stunts and pushing the limit. The popo = bad news. Underage drinking, skipping school, spray painting on the road....all of these were frowned upon by the POlice.
The sheriff of our county was right out of the movies. He was known for using his flashlight to subdue people, and more often than not, was a bit too aggressive with it. There were tales of him "busting" parties where there was alcohol & pot, only to join them. Stories about him being easily persuaded by the teen female species, ran rampant. Though it wasn't something I ever personally tested. For vague, unknown reasons, he didn't like my dad. And, considering the country life works on that whole next-of-kin thing, I avoided the sheriff at all costs.
The nearest town (pop.300) had a cop that Barny Fife was probably based on. Good natured, easy going, and easily fooled. The couple of occasions that I "met" him, he gave a half-hearted lecture about whatever law I happened to be breaking, told me to knock it off, and go home. Believe me, I did. As nice as he was, I didn't want to risk dealing with the county...which would bring me to the attention of the sheriff.
I married into a family that was well-known for their orneriness and scrapes with "johnny law". For the most part, there weren't any major crimes, just small, ornery stuff. Think Dukes of Hazzard. Things that, in that era, were considered harmless fun, and made good stories to tell.
It wasn't until I became older that I found some respect for the po-lice. To appreciate the job they do, and the help they provide. It was grudging, but respect nonetheless. Cops always seem so official, and stuffy. I'd never "met" one outside of their job.
Then, I stumbled across Momma Fargo's blog. Not entirely sure it was something I'd care to read. But I gave it a shot. To my surprise, I found a real, live person behind that uniform! She has a sense of humor. A heart. Scary stuff. A drastic contrast to the picture I've always had of cops. Through reading her blog, I gained a better respect for police.
Now, when I see a cop, my feelings are a bit different. I don't have that, "oh gawd, now what?" feeling. I just see a person, doing their job. One that I would never sign up for, because I couldn't handle it. And, if it's a female, I smile.
Thanks so much to Dee for participating. She rocks! Go check her out. And...NO, I didn't even pay her for the kind words...LOL. She's a sweetheart. Her blogs are fun and lively...go be a part of that here and here.