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Cow Battles Part 40
Part 40
A few people who were very familiar with each other worked a couple of barter trades at the gathering. Jim noticed that all parties trading seemed more interested in talking in low tones, heading off a little bit by themselves to "talk" etc. Transactions seemed to be done quietly and almost covertly. It was clear that both parties weren't interested in advertising their transaction to others. It had more of a black market type feel than a flea market feel.
Their was no "barter town" approach with grandstanding nor was their people laying out half a truckload of stuff for barter. Trust was simply not yet developed enough yet to allow this. Most people seemed cautious to do a lot more than simply say hello and ask about mutual acquantances. In most cases people were cordial. On the two occasions were it did not seem this was the case, the host stepped in to help.
Pastor Gibson was brought into one would be transaction like this to intercede. An elderly fellow was trying to trade a couple of 1964 silver quarters for a dozen canning jars and lids that a women he knew brought to the gathering that wouldn't end up being needed. The women took great offense at the man offering him "fifty cents" for the nearly impossible to find canning jars and lids. The man was trying desperately to convince her that the two 1964 quarters were worth a great deal due to their silver content. Pastor Gibson tried to intercede thinking the elderly man had lost it.
"No! No! No! I'm not crazy! Look at this!" the man said as he pulled some well worn papers out of his pocket. "See! This here says they have value!" the man said.
The woman was quick to reply "everything has some value now. Anyone could have typed up something to scam people with later. Even if they are silver, what good is that to me?"
"Well you can trade it to someone else for something you need" the man replied.
Pastor Gibson started to intercede "well it doesn't look like you two can come to an agreement so let's just quit trying."
"Cause he's a crook! Trying to pay me fifty cents for these jars and lids!" the woman said loudly. By now everyone was looking. More than a few people in attendance made covert movements to clear the line behind the man and/or began to look with a jaundiced eye now at others in attendance. One took a rifle off his shoulder and another pushed a light jacket out of the way on his right hand side to display a concealed handgun. Clearly the feeling of calm and security was fading quickly.
The elderly man spoke up, "I'm not a crook! Everyone knows these are valuable! Your the crook trying to get these for nothing!" the man said. By this point Pastor Gibson nodded to a couple men who were nearby and they approached the man.
Pastor Gibson spoke, "well friend, she isn't going to trade with you, so just let it go. Do you understand?"
The man looked around at Gibson and the other men and nodded his head. The implication was clear, it was time to go. Still he rambled on about "my rights" and said he would "make a complaint" to the leadership of Gibson's church about his "inconsiderate actions." Clearly this man was living in the past. In the pre-disaster days where weak willed whiners would complain about something and how they were so special until someone caved in to the loser.
Jim debated about whether or not to say anything. He was actually waiting to see if anyone else "knew" and if they would correct the issue, or if they would try to profit from the knowledge no one else seemed to have. Jim quickly got the distinct impression no one knew about the silver content of the old coins as no one seemed interested in giving the old fella anything for the coins.
After his ineffectual little tirade about his "rights" and making a "complaint", the man quickly left the gathering and kept looking over his shoulder as he moved out of site. Clearly he was paranoid that someone was going to steal his coins from him. Before everything happened Jim had talked with dozens upon dozens of average people about their knowledge of pre-65 coins and had not found one that knew of their worth outside of survivalists and coin hoarders. Jim guessed the old fella was more of a "coin hoarder" than a survivalist. Although many in this new crop of survivalists did not fully grasp the implications of their actions in similar environments. Few realized that the entire event was seconds away from a complete breakdown on civility and possibly a firefight due to someone clinging to the old ways of whining to get their wants met.
Another person clearly breaking the norm of keeping a little quiet during the transactions was Jack Higgins. Everyone knew Jack was a major gun nut. Jack was boisterous and loud, always bragging about the "great deals" he got on exotic firearms, how many he had, etc. He was the guy always talking a lot of crap, always publicly putting his foot in his mouth. While Jack had no problem publicly ranting about how "we need another revolution in this country", Jack himself was in need of a revolution.
At 5 foot 7 inches and weighing in over 400 lbs. Jack's health desperately needed a revolution. He had slimmed down only slightly since things fell apart and it was clear that it was because of a lack of food more so than a concerted effort and/or PT. Frankly Jim was surprised that Jack was still alive. At the size he was he had to be diabetic and his heart had to be greatly strained from his mass. Jack had brought a few well worn Chinese SKS rifles to the meet and was trying hard to trade them off.
Barney Flanders seemed to be the only one to show some interest in the SKS rifles but he was trying to keep his interest muted.
"Come on Jack, it's time you give back to the community." Flanders could be overheard saying. After not getting his way covertly he decided to go the "it's for the children" liberal approach, bringing communism into the discussion.
"Look Barney, I ain't no damn commie and I ain't no socialist either like your President." Jack replied. "I want something decent in trade."
Flanders walked away to work another manipulation approach. A classic liberal, he knew how to work things and this would be no different.
One of the topics that came up repeatedly during the work of butchering and putting up the beef was the need for a "local police force" as it was called. Jim knew it was way too soon for such a thing, especially with trust hanging by a thread.
Jim was glad to see the Taylor family there and carrying weapons. From the way they carried themselves Jim got the confirmation he had been looking for for a long while. They attended the same church as Jim's family did and Jim ran into them at gunshows. Their mindset, spiritual beliefs, etc. were on the same page as Jim's family but they had never gotten a chance to get much further than shooting with them a couple times and the kids getting to know each other.
"Glad to see you made it to the other side of this." Tim Taylor said to Jim as they shook hands.
"Not sure we are on the other side yet, but thanks." Jim replied.
"That's true, we have a long way to go still I think." Tim said.
"I think so also." Jim said.
"What's your thoughts of this talk of a local militia?" Tim cut right to the point.
"I heard some calling it a "local police force", I figured most people were scared of the "M" word." Jim said.
Taylor laughed and said "that's true, that word got a very bad rap in the media the last couple decades didn't it?"
"It sure did. Personally I think it's a little soon for that sort of thing. This is the first large gathering of people that I know of since things fell apart. I think more time needs to be spent building trust first." Jim said.
"I couldn't agree more. The problem is that some things are better gotten into on the ground level if you know what I mean. And once people decide to do something, it's hard to stop it. Waiting is a good idea, but it might be this very thing that does build the trust back amongst the community." Taylor replied.
"Good point. But it's hard to get someone to hold a line or protect someone else when the trust isn't there." Jim said.
"True. We have a lot to figure out. Maybe you can help me figure some of this out? Pastor Gibson has asked me to work on the idea. He said he was pretty sure from talking to you that you all weren't interested in talking a direct part." Taylor said.
"You know I'll do what I can to help you Tim, just for numerous reasons of my own, I won't take a direct part in it at this particular time. Not to say I may not in the future though." Jim replied.
"The door is always open and we need experienced people." Taylor said that and let it hang with a look of knowing towards Jim.
"I'm just a guy that likes to shoot, you know that." Jim replied.
"People aren't stupid Jim, they know who took out that Mexican gang." Taylor replied.
"Well it wasn't us and I would appreciate you letting anyone and everyone you can know it was not us." Jim said.
Part 40
A few people who were very familiar with each other worked a couple of barter trades at the gathering. Jim noticed that all parties trading seemed more interested in talking in low tones, heading off a little bit by themselves to "talk" etc. Transactions seemed to be done quietly and almost covertly. It was clear that both parties weren't interested in advertising their transaction to others. It had more of a black market type feel than a flea market feel.
Their was no "barter town" approach with grandstanding nor was their people laying out half a truckload of stuff for barter. Trust was simply not yet developed enough yet to allow this. Most people seemed cautious to do a lot more than simply say hello and ask about mutual acquantances. In most cases people were cordial. On the two occasions were it did not seem this was the case, the host stepped in to help.
Pastor Gibson was brought into one would be transaction like this to intercede. An elderly fellow was trying to trade a couple of 1964 silver quarters for a dozen canning jars and lids that a women he knew brought to the gathering that wouldn't end up being needed. The women took great offense at the man offering him "fifty cents" for the nearly impossible to find canning jars and lids. The man was trying desperately to convince her that the two 1964 quarters were worth a great deal due to their silver content. Pastor Gibson tried to intercede thinking the elderly man had lost it.
"No! No! No! I'm not crazy! Look at this!" the man said as he pulled some well worn papers out of his pocket. "See! This here says they have value!" the man said.
The woman was quick to reply "everything has some value now. Anyone could have typed up something to scam people with later. Even if they are silver, what good is that to me?"
"Well you can trade it to someone else for something you need" the man replied.
Pastor Gibson started to intercede "well it doesn't look like you two can come to an agreement so let's just quit trying."
"Cause he's a crook! Trying to pay me fifty cents for these jars and lids!" the woman said loudly. By now everyone was looking. More than a few people in attendance made covert movements to clear the line behind the man and/or began to look with a jaundiced eye now at others in attendance. One took a rifle off his shoulder and another pushed a light jacket out of the way on his right hand side to display a concealed handgun. Clearly the feeling of calm and security was fading quickly.
The elderly man spoke up, "I'm not a crook! Everyone knows these are valuable! Your the crook trying to get these for nothing!" the man said. By this point Pastor Gibson nodded to a couple men who were nearby and they approached the man.
Pastor Gibson spoke, "well friend, she isn't going to trade with you, so just let it go. Do you understand?"
The man looked around at Gibson and the other men and nodded his head. The implication was clear, it was time to go. Still he rambled on about "my rights" and said he would "make a complaint" to the leadership of Gibson's church about his "inconsiderate actions." Clearly this man was living in the past. In the pre-disaster days where weak willed whiners would complain about something and how they were so special until someone caved in to the loser.
Jim debated about whether or not to say anything. He was actually waiting to see if anyone else "knew" and if they would correct the issue, or if they would try to profit from the knowledge no one else seemed to have. Jim quickly got the distinct impression no one knew about the silver content of the old coins as no one seemed interested in giving the old fella anything for the coins.
After his ineffectual little tirade about his "rights" and making a "complaint", the man quickly left the gathering and kept looking over his shoulder as he moved out of site. Clearly he was paranoid that someone was going to steal his coins from him. Before everything happened Jim had talked with dozens upon dozens of average people about their knowledge of pre-65 coins and had not found one that knew of their worth outside of survivalists and coin hoarders. Jim guessed the old fella was more of a "coin hoarder" than a survivalist. Although many in this new crop of survivalists did not fully grasp the implications of their actions in similar environments. Few realized that the entire event was seconds away from a complete breakdown on civility and possibly a firefight due to someone clinging to the old ways of whining to get their wants met.
Another person clearly breaking the norm of keeping a little quiet during the transactions was Jack Higgins. Everyone knew Jack was a major gun nut. Jack was boisterous and loud, always bragging about the "great deals" he got on exotic firearms, how many he had, etc. He was the guy always talking a lot of crap, always publicly putting his foot in his mouth. While Jack had no problem publicly ranting about how "we need another revolution in this country", Jack himself was in need of a revolution.
At 5 foot 7 inches and weighing in over 400 lbs. Jack's health desperately needed a revolution. He had slimmed down only slightly since things fell apart and it was clear that it was because of a lack of food more so than a concerted effort and/or PT. Frankly Jim was surprised that Jack was still alive. At the size he was he had to be diabetic and his heart had to be greatly strained from his mass. Jack had brought a few well worn Chinese SKS rifles to the meet and was trying hard to trade them off.
Barney Flanders seemed to be the only one to show some interest in the SKS rifles but he was trying to keep his interest muted.
"Come on Jack, it's time you give back to the community." Flanders could be overheard saying. After not getting his way covertly he decided to go the "it's for the children" liberal approach, bringing communism into the discussion.
"Look Barney, I ain't no damn commie and I ain't no socialist either like your President." Jack replied. "I want something decent in trade."
Flanders walked away to work another manipulation approach. A classic liberal, he knew how to work things and this would be no different.
One of the topics that came up repeatedly during the work of butchering and putting up the beef was the need for a "local police force" as it was called. Jim knew it was way too soon for such a thing, especially with trust hanging by a thread.
Jim was glad to see the Taylor family there and carrying weapons. From the way they carried themselves Jim got the confirmation he had been looking for for a long while. They attended the same church as Jim's family did and Jim ran into them at gunshows. Their mindset, spiritual beliefs, etc. were on the same page as Jim's family but they had never gotten a chance to get much further than shooting with them a couple times and the kids getting to know each other.
"Glad to see you made it to the other side of this." Tim Taylor said to Jim as they shook hands.
"Not sure we are on the other side yet, but thanks." Jim replied.
"That's true, we have a long way to go still I think." Tim said.
"I think so also." Jim said.
"What's your thoughts of this talk of a local militia?" Tim cut right to the point.
"I heard some calling it a "local police force", I figured most people were scared of the "M" word." Jim said.
Taylor laughed and said "that's true, that word got a very bad rap in the media the last couple decades didn't it?"
"It sure did. Personally I think it's a little soon for that sort of thing. This is the first large gathering of people that I know of since things fell apart. I think more time needs to be spent building trust first." Jim said.
"I couldn't agree more. The problem is that some things are better gotten into on the ground level if you know what I mean. And once people decide to do something, it's hard to stop it. Waiting is a good idea, but it might be this very thing that does build the trust back amongst the community." Taylor replied.
"Good point. But it's hard to get someone to hold a line or protect someone else when the trust isn't there." Jim said.
"True. We have a lot to figure out. Maybe you can help me figure some of this out? Pastor Gibson has asked me to work on the idea. He said he was pretty sure from talking to you that you all weren't interested in talking a direct part." Taylor said.
"You know I'll do what I can to help you Tim, just for numerous reasons of my own, I won't take a direct part in it at this particular time. Not to say I may not in the future though." Jim replied.
"The door is always open and we need experienced people." Taylor said that and let it hang with a look of knowing towards Jim.
"I'm just a guy that likes to shoot, you know that." Jim replied.
"People aren't stupid Jim, they know who took out that Mexican gang." Taylor replied.
"Well it wasn't us and I would appreciate you letting anyone and everyone you can know it was not us." Jim said.
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