Fred “Buck” Dalton had just retired from the Julep - Cason County EMC as a lineman for the past 32.5 years. It was a tough job physically, but it always rewarding to him. He was proud when he and his crew got the power going for the town after a heavy summer thunderstorm or the annual early fall hurricane. “Nothing makes me happier than seeing folks able to turn their air back on or get their icebox back working. Sometimes they even give me a beer. Most the time it’s hot...but I guess, in a way, that’s my fault”.
The years of hard work, climbing up and down poles had taken a toll on Fred’s body, as had many more years of hard play. An avid deer and turkey hunter, Fred in his younger years, would go out to the woods on the weekends with his work crew. They would park the company bucket truck in a clearing, climb into the bucket and pop off deer and turkeys as they came by...depending on the season or where the game warden was that day. More than once Fred fell out of the bucket due to inebriation or got clotheslined by a branch as they sometimes rode through the woods with the bucket extended. “Wasn’t like we had all these dang, dirty, democrat, safety rules back then…” He also sustained a few third-degree burns because the tradition was for the crew to deep fry whatever meat they shot. “Ain’t nothing better than fried backstraps or turkey goozle.”
Frank’s old bones and muscles hurt more than what a double dose of naproxen sodium would treat but he was adamantly opposed to prescription pain medication. It had been drilled into his head many a Sunday at Julep First Baptist that addiction was the devil “...and nobody wants to dance the devil cause the devils got hoofs”.
To ease his aching bones Fred would take a steaming hot bath every night his prized family heirloom, a clawfoot cast iron bathtub. “I was born in that tub, and I’ll probably die in there…” As he marinated in his juices and carved little pieces out of the bar soap with his calloused fingers he thought about his goals for retirement. Now that he was not working he was becoming restless. He had always fantasized about moving to a place that had volcanic warm springs as he had seen in the travel shows. Blue, steaming water trickling over rocks, bubbling from beneath the earth...Warm beer in hand (because he’d gotten used to drinking it that way) slowly floating the day away, pain-free. Not a care in the world.
Fred spoke with his “financial planner,” which is what he called his checkbook, and realized some of the decisions he made in his youth put relocation to a geothermal paradise a tad bit out of reach. In hindsight, the three rusted out Camaros in his front yard were probably not the best long term investments. The restaurant grade, propane powered, industrial deep fryer, while useful, probably wasn’t either. At first, Fred felt sorry for himself but slowly rationalized his situation was actually a blessing. “They’re probably ain’t no whitetails by no volcanoes anyway...and retirement without hunting...might as well take me on to St. Peter’s gates.”
Now on a fixed income, Fred faced a real dilemma one bitter winter evening when he went for his relaxation session and found the water was freezing cold. His hot water heater had rusted right out of the wall. It wouldn’t have been a major problem but he was also out of both peanut oil and propane for the month, neither of which came cheap. Like many elderly, he had to choose between his therapy and his hobby. He sat in one of his old Camaros that had working high beams and flashed them on and off through the woods looking for deer and contemplated his situation… “Maybe I could kill two birds with one stone...maybe three…”
Fred called up his old crew and together they dragged his ancient clawfoot bathtub to his yard. He filled the tub with water and took the burner for his industrial fryer and set it underneath and lit it up. Within minutes he had created his own hillbilly hot springs. He was even able to put a deer blind around it so that he could sit, drink warm beer, and shoot deer and turkeys to his heart's content. And if he wanted to fry them up after that all he had to do was pull the plug, fill the tub with peanut oil, and crank the heat higher...just had to remember to get soap and toenails out...