The Right of Passage
Every culture, society, country, city, and people have some form of Right of Passage to separate one from something lesser to something greater. For some it is when one reaches a given age then they have some form of adulthood Right of Passage. For some it is when they get their driver license, or maybe their first car. The what’s, and wherefores of the Rights of Passage differ from person to person, town to town, country to country.
I remember just before my 4th birthday going back to Texas to visit my Grandfather and Grandmother on their farm. The second day we were there I turned 4 years old, and to me I had no idea it was my birthday. Dad and Granddad hopped into granddads truck and went to the town Newlin, TX. for a bit. When they came back they had a big long box, they gave it to me for my birthday. It was a real Daisy BB gun a lot like the Model 105 Buck Lever Action except it only had a small bladed front sight and two 5-cent tubes of BB’s.
To add to my joy Right after I was lectured about gun safety, shown how to load, cock, aim and fire the BB gun they gave me a real Remington Bolt Action single shot .22 rifle that was my dads when he was a kid. Though I did not get turned loose with the .22 until I was much older, they let me have at anything on the farm except the cars, the dog, the cow, the house or my little brother.
Almost everything fell pray to my first real BB gun, and trying to keep to the spirit of the law I figured Grandmothers chickens were off limits UNLESS they were outside the coop. Low and be hold the rooster and one hen had escaped prison and were making a run for freedom. Not on my watch. I must of put 10 BB’s in each of them, and they were still running around, so I gave up and went after other game.
Later that evening we had an over portion of fried chicken for dinner. Sense grandmother went out to the coop and found the two I had stopped from escaping prison flopping around and looking like Bonny and Clyde at their end. The BB gun and the .22 rifle was part of my Right to Passage, the other part was I learned that one eats what they kill.
Needless to say I did not want chicken for quite some time after.
Thanks, O. Love the memories.
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