Cap Guns

I will always be a lost boy. Cap guns are an essential part of the Lost Boy lifestyle. They are loud, smelly, offend old people and illegal in fine state of Massachusetts. Have a nice weekend and go get a cap gun, they are 3 dollars, and put a smile on your face.

Charlie killing it with his Cap Guns.

Here are some more links,
Cap Guns (Life Archive),
Hubley Cap Guns,
Hubley Cap Gun (Ebay),
Cap Guns Made in the USA.

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Photos from Vermont


Here are some photos from my trip to southern Vermont, all taken from the side of various back roads.

Not exactly a New England Barn, but cool color composition.

Here is something you don't see everyday, a dead coyote, with no apparent wounds, hanging frozen from a small shed.

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New England Barns

Desperately searching for talking points, my friends' awkward parents always ask me, "...So, how is New England different from the Northwest?" I usually fire back with a stock answer like, "Well, most people are much more socially conservative, and the whole preschool thing was completely new to me," and thus dodge a prolonged conversation. Regardless of my poorly-masked lack of enthusiasm for discussing cultural differences with uninterested, Xanax-infused housewives, I ponder their question long after dinner is over.

After spending countless hours driving to and from remote colleges around the New England countryside, I finally have an answer worth listening to. It's the barns.

The Northwest doesn't have old, beautiful barns. The wet climate rots wood and the harsh wind chips paint and rips off shingles. Most barns are textureless extensions of a suburb made from prefab trusses with synthetic or aluminum siding and roofs, and cement floors. New England barns transversely, are old wooden, structures who sag and chipped paint only makes them more enduring.

Here are some photos taken on the side of New England roads that embody the weathered beauty of a good barn.

Here are some more links,
Barnsaver.com (Thanks Sam).
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Carey and His 24-Year-Old Beard

When most people think of southern Vermont, they think of skiing, overpriced maple syrup and picturesque dairy farms, not men like Carey. I spotted Carey shoveling snow off of his trailer in North Windham, Vermont on Saturday, the 21st. His openness and friendliness was that of someone often overlooked and neglected by passers-by.

Carey hasn't cut his beard since "sometime in '85." I was born in '88.

Carrey is New England.

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