Fence.. interesting (to me anyways).
Honestly, when I opened this page, started writing... .well actually, before that. From 4am until 4:30am my eyes weren't wholly open, so... around 4:32am, I was perusing Facebook - and was reading a post - thought to myself "that person has a fence around their life.. in some ways they share their life, in others, there's a security fence around it."
I do the same I guess.
Many more happy ways to think of a fence. Street curbs? Huh? Yes, our 'professional whiffle ball league' as a 9 year old. The curb (far side)on the street infronta our yard served as the left field fence. We even usedta use a tape measure to attain the distance, write it on the curb with chalk (not to be confused with rock chalk, patooey.) Over the 'fence', homer. bounces over? Play it, and watch out for Chevys and Fords in the meantime.
The pristine fence of Municipal Stadium, waaaay back in the day. Green, green and s'more green. (Is that all there is?) Yes, that's all there was. Wowza, you go to Kaufman Stadium today, there's one teenie tiny 'greenspace' within the fence so batters can see the ball better. Otherwise, there's ads for lawyers, beer, bbq sauce, more fancy colored lights than the Mayor's Christmas tree... etc.... etc. My uncle would literally rollover in his grave were he to see baseball fences nowadays.
Fences keeps doggies, cattle, much, safe. We scoff our noses at "Gated Neighborhoods", but truth be known, had we hella money too, we'd be right there with 'em.
Band camp. Farm, golf course. Fence between. Many cattle, many golfers. Peaceful. Then, somehow the fence was broken through. The cattle experienced freedom, and they chose to use it on the green of hole #2, wondering all the time "what's so damn interesting about this place?"// They wrecked it. Bad. Vely deep holes. Ever tried to putt over a three inch deep impression from a cow hoof?
So. Recourse. As in, let's fix this course. Well, fence first, then the course.
Investigators weren't sent in, but had they been, they maybe woulda interviewed six or eight cows. Agnes the Angus, Henry the Hereford, Charlie the Charolais. That's bull you say? No, he's in the adjoining pasture, stronger fence, he didn't get out.
Anyways, they cud not get straight answers from the cows. They would not moove, show their hand, er, hoof. Steaks were too high, lotta damage. Still, golf course guys had a beef about this.
So, a needle pulling thread...no, that ain't it. So, golf course guys sent Farmer Ducky a bill for $1,500, the amount it cost them in labor to repair the golf green. Farmer Ducky, upon receipt of this bill, had a cow. Well, lotsa cows. Farmer said to himself "well, them a-holes, with all their Benze's, Audi's, thousand dolla golf bags, they think I'm a simpleton, HA. Soon after, he penned his own bill, mailed it.
Golf course uppities opened the letter from Farmer Ducky "Fertilization Service to golf course, fee $1,500, payable upon receipt." Pissed they were, just Ducky the farmer thought. The end. I enjoyed Farmer's answer, no off fence.
"There must be some kind of way out of here" said the joker to the thief. Of course, we all recognize this as Jimi Hendrix's All Along The Watchtower." WHAT? Hendrix didn't write that, Dylan did! "There's too much confusion." No, had Dylan sung it, THEN there woulda been confusion. We've NEVER been able to understand his lyrics, it's as if they're blowing in the wind.
The hour is getting late. Well, this blog idea is anyways, it's still only 5:24am.
Tune in tomorrow. Farmer Ducky is contemplating erecting a gate 'tween, allowing cows to go steal golf balls so they could later fence them on Facebook Swap and Shop. Golf course guy counters with Reefer Madness, as he brings in an empty fitty-three foot frozen food trailer where he will hock the following (so as to scare the damn cows from ever setting hoof on the course again:
Chuck (on sale to all who feel like throwing their golf clubs.) Ribs, especially for you high handicappers. Shank, for all you golfers that enjoy hitting balls in the woods. Rump, for all of you that always finish last in your foursome.
Fences. Because man, woman, prisoners, pedophiles, lower class folks, cows and golfers can't be trusted. We can't let them in. We can't let them out.
Fences, the dog's nemesis. Cat says, hold my catnip and watch this. Time to go, we've reached Wilson Pickett Fence's Midnight Hour. Sally doesn't want to play golf anyways... all she wants to do is ride around..
Don't let the door hitya in the rump, and be sure to close the gate. That'd be ducky of you.
Love, Victurd
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