We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
The reason a picture is "worth a thousand words" is because it may take that many to explain it. The peanut guess sounds very plausible. But somehow there's a Midwestern rather than a Southern sensibility to the photo. Wonder how often that pant leg gets caught in the exposed chain. And is the knee torn out of the other leg? All in all it takes me back to those long ago Friday afternoons when I pedaled my rural paper route delivering the Grit. How many readers will remember what THAT is?
Ralph Kinney Bennett
Damn! I used to sell the Grit too at 10 cents each. Best place for sales in a small central Illinois town was in the taverns and saloons on vinegar hill. "Wanna buy a Grit? Just 10 dents" "Damn, kid, I got all the grit I need but here's ten cents." Sold them all in about an hour.
Rode my bike everywhere. Never ever pegged my pants. Learned to roll em up, or keep one foot farther out on the peg, turned out so the pant didn't get caught in the chain. Rode on city streets till I got to the horse trail which was deep and loose dirt, couldn't ride the bike on that, so I just propped against the fence and walked the rest of the way. Never ever gave thought to the bike being stolen--didn't have to in those days--people didn't steal bikes, or cars, or . . .
What's he's carrying is the shame of knowing his mother didn't care enough about him to make him wear a helmet, knee pads, elbow pads, several hundred square feet of bubble wrap and a rape whistle. Thank goodness we know better now than to allow our children out in such an unsafe manner as this. And shame on you people for seeing this poor child risking death by riding a bicycle with neither seatbelt nor airbag and being so cavalier about it.
could be peanuts, or some local wild stuff like trout lily corms I was thinking, can't tell much from the photo.
that's why I'm posting, an iconic photo set by Bernard Hoffman for LIFE magazine from October of 1946 at the Wagner one room schoolhouse in Pecatonica, Illinois. This photo didn't get published in the article, but looking at the photos from that issue, looks like Homer Meiers, as seen in another photo. The title being "One-Room School" October 28, 1946 issue.