Dipping

Adolescence is a time to try out new things, to experiment, to challenge the conventional, to test the waters, a time to broaden one’s boundaries or simply a time to begin the growing up process.
My friend grew up in a farm family of boys in central North Carolina not too far from the Cape Fear River. In addition to the nuclear family, he was fortunate to know his nearby grandparents, and he was particularly fond of his grandmother who frequently had a special treat for him when he visited. She was his role model, and he was influenced by her actions one of which was dipping snuff, a widely accepted practice back then.
He knew the details of dipping; he knew how the snuff was handled, how it was placed between the lip and the lower front teeth, but he had never actually experienced it firsthand. He was a boy willing to try new things so why not give it a try he reasoned?
He knew the process could be messy. The saliva mixed with the powered tobacco product could make for an unflattering chicken yard smile. Still he wondered what it would be like to actually take a dip. What was its taste? How and when to spit appropriately?
He knew where his grandmother kept her can of snuff so one day he decided to “borrow” some of Granny’s seemingly powered elixir.
He was not going to dip at home so off he went down to the river where he sat on a fallen tree trunk near the water. He thought this to be a good dipping site since when it became necessary, he could spit into the flowing stream leaving no evidence. But things did not go like he anticipated.
He soon discovered that placing the powered product in the right place was not as easy as when grandmother did it. It did not help either that the process turned out to be funny, and laughter and snuff did not mix easily.
As soon he completed this initial process, he began to wonder what it was about the product that grandmother liked so well. To him it was anything but pleasurable. Then something unexpected happened. He got sick.
His thought was to rush to the river and in doing so, he slipped on the muddy bank causing him to fall headlong into the flowing water. He was used to the river but not fully clothed.
He had not thought of having to explain to his mother why his clothes were soaking wet, but when he got home, he had to admit that he had done something foolish, taking a dip but not necessarily in the river.
He had given snuff dipping a try but once was enough to convince him perhaps some other form of spitless tobacco might be a better choice.
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Bill Lee
PO Box 128
Hamer, SC 29547

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