Backyard Trailer Park Hot Dogs

17 Jun

I have a very dichotomous mindset, and for this I am very thankful, and I feel I can attribute this way of thinking to the manner in which my childhood played out, because I grew up both rich and poor.

First of all I was born a bastard child to a teenage mother who still lived with her parents.  (aka: My Grandparents.)  Rumor has it I may have been conceived at an Alice Cooper concert that she snuck out of the house late at night to attend against her parent’s (aka My Grandparents) wishes.  (This rumor has never been adequately confirmed, but I still preach it like the gospel at every opportunity.)

alice-Hulton-Archive

welcome to my nightmare

In any event, I lived the first 9 years of my life enjoying all the cushy comforts life in middle class suburbia had to offer.    (Technically we lived in a small town in the middle of nowhere, but it felt like a suburb.)  We might not have been rich, but we were certainly not wanting for much.  Our house was nice, decent sized, clean, and we had all the most modern appliances that were available in the 70’s.  I had lots of cool toys, and we ate nice meals.  (Occasionally there were even afternoon trips to the movies and McDonald’s!)  We also had a color television, a big yard, and if I accompanied mom or one of the grandparent’s to the grocery store I usually came back with a prize of some kind, which almost always consisted of a comic book or a little bag of plastic dinosaurs.  (I already mentioned these in an earlier post.  I would LOVE to find an unopened bag of these someday!)

photo-2286

An unopened bag of My Childhood.

Then, around the time I turned 9, my mom married my step dad, and things changed drastically.  We spent the remainder of my pre-adult years moving around rural Michigan, year after year, living in a series of ramshackle trailers, sometimes (though not often) with no running water or electricity!

In spite of this I had a great childhood.  My mom and step dad loved me and did the best they could to provide for me.  Not only that it instilled in me some deep rooted values that are still a strong part of who I am today.  I learned early on that if I wanted toys, comic books, snacks or sodas, more often than not I would have to provide them for myself.  So I did yard work, I babysat, I hiked a couple miles into town picking up cans and bottles (a VERY lucrative profession living in red neck land in the 80’s!)   I also developed some amazing resourcefulness.  Government cheese boxes, for instance, made fine places to store my Empire Strikes Back trading cards.  Notebook paper containing old math assignments, written in pencil, could be erased and reused to write stories or make artwork.

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It may seem contradictory, but it also instilled in me an extreme lack of respect for money.  If I had money, I spent it.  If I didn’t have money, I got by just fine without it.  Now, as a full grown adult, I live exactly the same way, and I enjoy every minute of it.  When I get paid, which takes place every other Friday, I take care of whatever bills I have on the table, and then I go out and have a good time.  I go out for nice dinners.  I go out for drinks.  I buy myself some new stuff.  Frequently by the end of the weekend I am left with vary little remaining cash, but somehow it always works out.  The funny thing is I can easily piss away a couple hundred bucks in one wild night out on the town, and then just as easily find some way to make my last remaining 20 bucks get me through the next 13 days until payday!

Not only that, I can honestly say I kind of enjoy it.  There’s something fun about “circling the wagons” as I call it, which I typically end up doing just about the start of the second half of my two week pay cycle.  I take all my bottles to the store, cash in my change, check to see exactly how much money I have in the bank, and then do my best to see to it I have enough to eat until I get paid again.  In fact, being the nostalgia minded person that I am, sometimes even when I’m not broke I actually find myself thinking longingly about some specific taste that only one who grew up in “poverty” would ever understand.  Just the other day,  I found myself craving a very specific sort of meal and went to the grocery store to acquire the necessary supplies, all of which ran me well under 10 dollars, and fed me for the next 4 days!

I call them Back Yard Trailer Park Dogs (with accompaniment.)

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I was going to call them Ghetto Dogs, but technically I grew up Country Poor and not Ghetto Poor, though I’m sure they share many of the same attributes.

 

Here’s what it is:  2 Hot dogs with a single piece of bread each (instead of buns), slathered with ketchup and mustard so you can sort of roll the bread around the dogs and make it stick, almost looking like a hot dog bun.  I find they taste best if you eat them  with store brand potato chips (I chose BBQ) and some form of store brand fruit soda.  (I chose Orange, but Red, Purple or Root Beer would have also sufficed.)  For desert, a Little Debbie strawberry shortcake roll.

It tasted like a hot trailer park summer slice of childhood.  Magnifique!

 

 

6 Responses to “Backyard Trailer Park Hot Dogs”

  1. J. A. Robinson June 19, 2013 at 10:46 am #

    A touching, humorous account of your childhood! THANKS for subscribing to my funny-caption photoblog and leaving a “like”! I hope I can bring you a smile (or at least a groan) every weekday.
    –John R.: http://TheDailyGraff.com

    • domingosaurus June 20, 2013 at 1:02 am #

      Thank you! LOVE the captioned photos! Please continue giving voices to inanimate objects! (They have something to say too you know!)

      • J. A. Robinson June 20, 2013 at 1:33 am #

        They asked me to champion their cause. I couldn’t refuse. My blog would just be ho-hum photos without them. 🙂

  2. ioniamartin June 27, 2013 at 5:35 pm #

    I’m wondering what the British equivalent of this fine cuisine is….

    • domingosaurus June 27, 2013 at 6:17 pm #

      I’m going to find out using the magical powers of The Internet. OK, this is what I got, according to the American to British translator I found here: http://www.translatebritish.com/reverse.php “Back Yard Caravan Park Mafted Dogs” Yeah, I don’t know.

      • ioniamartin June 27, 2013 at 6:21 pm #

        That sounds terrible. I must try it.

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AlyZen Moonshadow

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AlyZen Moonshadow

The words and works of AlyZen Moonshadow, digital mixed media photography artist, designer, musician, poet, philosopher, mother, muse, Goddess!

Are You Finished Yet?

I like to write about stuff. I usually try to be funny. Take it or leave it.

Michael's Origins

Sherlock unlocking the past

anewperspectiveperhaps

This site is about everything from my philosophy on life to the little things that make me laugh. IIt is about living, and breathing, and pausing long enough to take it all in. I hope it makes you laugh, sometimes makes you cry, but always makes you want to come back for another visit. It is your words, and your likes that inspire me to keep writing. And it is through my writing that you have a very large window to my soul. Relax awhile, read, and enjoy!

Be Free 2 Love

Soaring through Life, Love, & Happiness: One story at time.

PotatoPen

That's right! I write!

Forty, c'est Fantastique !

La vie est belle !

Mr Tookles

tee hee

The Dependent Independent

TV, movies, books…rants… just trying to put skills to use.

Fictional Kevin

Cigar Fueled Creative Writing

Tubularsock

". . . first hand coverage, second hand news"

Elizabeth Conrad

True stories from a recovering asshole.

jenny's lark

the beauty of an ordinary life

Skinny and Single

Single and Over 40 and Not Suicidal About It

BunKaryudo

Lovingly Hand-Crafted Humor Blog

Life After 50

Life at any age can be amazing! We only need to grab hold & experience it!

Lessons from my daughter

Although all doctors agreed she would do nothing.....

lindaseccaspina

remembers the invention of the wheel

Fiction Favorites

with John W. Howell

Ram On

Soon, Right Away, Right Away

Retro Girl & the Chemo Kid

Superpower: love. Adventures through childhood cancer, grief, healing and happiness.

What Rhymes with Stanza?

Words at rest, words at play

Life and Random Thinking

A old dog CAN blog

Just Fred in Wyo

Just a guy living life in Wyoming. These are my personal words and photos.

Live Laugh RV

Our next Chapter

NestOfSquirrels

Acorns. And scurrying.

The Falling Thoughts

Poems, Poetry Plus Passion

heretherebespiders

blowing through the cobwebs of my mind

Mental Defecation

My mind poops here

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