Do you know what a Pee Boy is? They’re all over the world and have been for a long time. Well, I don’t know if Pee Boy is the technical name or not. The Pee Boy that’s familiar to me is a handmade, wooden “cut out” picture of a little boy taking a pee. A wire formed in an arch and attached to the wood is the pee. People put them in their flower beds (and other places) as a joke. The Pee Boy became a low income hit in the rural US several years ago.
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I love low income folks. I am one. I understand the reason for a “Private Property” sign in front of a singlewide trailer. I understand satellite dishes and Cadillacs in front of shacks. I understand Pee Boys. I sometimes think that people in other countries understand us better than many of our fellow Americans do. Here, we are often ridiculed. It doesn’t bother us too much, though. We know how to laugh at ourselves…and everybody else.
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Actually, I feel a big connection with anyone who is low income, no matter the locale. I also appreciate them the most when I am traveling. Rich areas tend to be dull and all look the same. Poor folks’ yards are interesting and colorful. I’ve seen houses that are painted in many different shades of neon, even gold. I’ve seen houses decorated with bottles. What can be done with trailers is amazing. I don’t mean this as a joke. I am truly impressed. Often, it’s done out of necessity. But I love their creativity and individualism.
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I’m always late for supper when I go to my parents’ house, because I have to stop and look. One of my favorite memories involves an ass kicking machine. Yep, you read that right. It was a contraption built out of wood. It looked like a booth. People stood in front of it and pulled a lever. A real boot came out on a long leg to “kick” the ass of the person who was in need of it. I’ve got a picture somewhere of me with the ass kicking machine. I wish I could find it. I’d use it for my poet’s picture.
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Did I ever live in one of these creative places? You bet. We didn’t have a Pee Boy in the yard, though. I still don’t have one. I’m arrogant and want to outdo everybody else. That’s part of the fun. My dream yard will have statues in it. Really odd looking gargoyles and such. Maybe I’ll paint them purple. But first, I have to gather some car parts and figure out how to mix cement. The best statues are handmade. And beautifully funky.
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Aunt Maleena Hit It Big Selling Lipstick
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So she bought a big mortgage
for a house in Pelican Pointe
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where no more than three cars
can be parked in the yard at all times
and each one must run.
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Play equipment must match the design
of the development and be child safe.
No tire swings or tree houses allowed.
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No laundry may be hung on fences or clotheslines.
No Private Property… Keep Out…This Means You signs.
No above ground, plastic pools bought at the Family Dollar.
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No private gardens full of collards plowed with rototillers.
However, all residents are encouraged to plant one square
of lemony herbs in the communal meditation center.
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All trees must be pruned and planted neatly in a line.
No kudzu or other creeping vines.
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No black labs crapping on the lawn.
No one-eyed cats hiding in tall grass.
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No American flags, totem poles.
No pictures of white or black Jesus.
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No pink flamingos, whirligigs,
or wooden cut outs of boys peeing
and grandma showing her drawers
when she bends over to weed.
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Holiday candles must be pure white
(a maximum of three per window)
and turned off the day after the holiday ends.
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No bonfires, mules, peacocks, target practice,
dirt bikes, trampolines or fireworks allowed.
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No wailing blues or clog stomping fiddle music.
No fishing for crawdaddies in the ditches.
No dirty faced, barefoot kids ripping around the yard.
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After two days, Aunt Maleena got five fines and three citations.
Well, hell. We’ve been kicked out of much better places.
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Julie Buffaloe-Yoder
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Hi Julie,
I love the poem! I don’t live in a “gated” community, but we do have a homeowner’s association with lots and lots of rules- pluses and minuses I’m afraid. The beginning of your post, reminds me of a poem I’ve read that talks about the wonders of yard sculptures in a derelict, kudzu vine covered lot and the beauty of the rust on the sides of the owner’s trailer. The poem made it sound like a magical place you’d love to visit, not poor or derelict at all. We do have wonderful home fireworks where I live, every fourth of July and New Years, and a holiday parade that runs right through our neighborhood.
Hi, Annie! Thank you! The derelict lot sounds so beautiful. I actually love rust, too. And parades at your place…yay! You must have good neighbors. All of the descriptions in this poem were ones that really happened. Not to me but to a couple of people I knew who “made it.” One lady ended up moving back to the country, and another family was kicked out.
I am so serious about the gargoyle statues. I don’t know if I’ll make them myself. Maybe I’ll find them at yard sales or the Goodwill store. But I want funky statues…haha! Vines growing on them will be even cooler:)
I never knew there were so many rules until I started working in a prison. As for that Ass Kickin’ Machine, I sure wouldn’t mind putting one in my classroom.
Hey, JR. Good to see you! I need the Ass Kickin’ machine in my yard. I’m often in need of it:)
Where to start? I know these people, too. Really well. Only you forgot the statues of gnomes. There must be gnomes. Lots of gnomes. And tires cut into the zigzags and planted with pansies. And whitewash on the bottom of tree trunks. And cars on blocks. And maybe even a commode planted with flowers…and don’t forget the people inside those places, the ones who would give you the shirts off their backs if you needed them and would do whatever they could to make sure you’re taken care of. Give me these people any time. Oh, and beside the pee boy? Gotta have the crying girl – you know, she’s leaning on the house, hiding her face.
Love, love, love you poetry! You’re my kinda people!
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And I love you, Karen! I was just at your place, and what beautiful words you have put in my heart. Then I flick back over here and talk about Pee Boys…HA! HA!
But dang…how could I forget about the commode flowers???? That is AWESOME. Yes, I’ve seen those, too. Haha! And the boots planted with flowers. But these words you wrote actually brought tears to my eyes:
“…and don’t forget the people inside those places, the ones who would give you the shirts off their backs if you needed them and would do whatever they could to make sure you’re taken care of. Give me these people any time.”
You are so beautiful:) That’s exactly what I feel. Thank you very much! -Julie
This is just AWESOME! I love all of what you wrote as preamble. But your POEM! I was smiling the whole way through. What a horrible prison it would be to live in Aunt Maleena’s community! Ick!
But here is yet another kind of prison, where I live. Not of the big money kind of area, but chopped up parcels with varying degrees of wealth displayed within. It’s out in the country but damned if you can find a place to hike in the woods. Between gunshots, no trespassing signs and barbed wire fences, where I live isn’t exactly a place where I can really get out into the woods. Very sad.
But I digress… Your poem displays a culture that is missed often when people of Aunt Maleena’s class are looking, full of warmth and humanity that are missing in the lives of so many. (Whether in Aunt Maleena’s class or somewhere in between). Awesome Jules!
Hi, Cat! Thank you so much! Oh, that’s awful that you can’t get into the woods. I really feel bad about that. I’d go nuts if I couldn’t walk in the woods. But I do know what you mean.
I knew a town where all the areas along the marsh and beach were fenced off. Back in the old days, anybody could go clamming or swimming there. Once houses were built, only the people who lived along the edge could get to it. It annoyed me, because they don’t own the marsh or the sea. But the land next to it was private, and there was no beach access.
So…being the hard headed idiot that I am, I climbed down a bridge with my clam bucket and floated for a mile to get to it. Haha! It annoyed them to see me out there, but they couldn’t do anything about it.
Thanks so much for all the good words, Cat. I love the word “humanity.” You are so right on, sis!
You do know your people well and you do a huge service when you describe them in your prose and poems. So often we hear these same stories told as “redneck” jokes, so we lose sight of the beauty in our attempt to amuse and belittle.
Hi, Brig. Thank you very much! When I speak of “poor folks,” I’m actually referring to people of all colors. Of course, there are evil people wherever we go, but in general, the low income people I know are the salt of the earth. I truly love them.
I’m so glad I wasn’t sipping on my nightly cup of hot tea when I opened my Google Reader and saw the title of your post. If I had, I’d of spewed black water all over my laptop from laughing.
As always, good post. Your accurate portrayals always amaze me. I hate to tell you this, but that butt-kicking machine made the big time. Yep, it was featured in Our State magazine. I’m sure shortly after, someone deemed it unsafe and instituted a recall.
And shug, what is wrong with a flamingo in the yard???
Hey, Kimberli! Are you serious??? The ass kickin’ machine made it into print? HA! HA! You have GOT to e-mail me that link if you have it. People think I’m lying when I tell stuff like that, and now I have proof, dangit! Haha!
But I am a little sad. Once the good stuff gets discovered, it often gets destroyed. I hope it’s still around.
I can’t remember which road it was on. It might have been when I was headed to visit relatives or maybe coming home from college. I do have a picture of me with it, though. I looked for it everywhere, so I could put it up with this post but couldn’t find it. You would have loved the picture.
Thanks so much for the good words and making me laugh:)
i’ve never seen a pee-boy, but now i have something new to keep an eye out for.
i used to work in a fancy gated community, and the rules can get outrageous – not just what color your house could be but a specific list of things you were allowed to plant, the wattage and direction of exterior lighting, even the size and color of realty signs. even if i had that kind of scratch, my “property value” wouldn’t be worth having to get my grass approved by a bunch of busy-bodies.
i love how slyly this cuts to the pettiness of all that – how the pursuit of a corporate aesthetic can come at the expense of color and creativity and all the things that make a house a home in the first place. “No wailing blues or clog stomping fiddle music.” – how’s anyone supposed to live like that?! – and the last line is perfect.
and from the title i have this picture of a big pink cadillac parked sideways in the front – give ’em hell, aunt maleena!
Hi, Joaquin. HA! HA! A pink cadillac! Yes, that is perfect. The lady who inspired this “hit it big” selling cosmetics. She opened her own store. I think she would have loved a pink cadillac.
Your comments always make my day, and now this one makes my night:) You’re right. I’m really poking at the other side.
I don’t have anything against people who want to live in communities like the one in the poem. I just wonder how they can stand it. I guess that’s the beauty of choice and freewill. Some love it. Some don’t. Personally, I would go crazy (or get kicked out) if I lived there. Too many dang rules! I’ve heard some very rigid ones.
One man told me his neighborhood association gave him a “warning” for the smells coming out of his kitchen. He’s from a different country, and for some reason, the smell of his home country food offended somebody jogging by. Can you believe that? Shew! Talk about narrow minded!
If I can find a picture of a Pee Boy, I’ll put it up. I couldn’t find a free one on the internet, and I was too timid to take pictures of peoples’ yards. You may have seen statues of boys peeing in fountains. That’s cool, too.
Thanks again, Joaquin. It’s always awesome to see you.
I’ve always lived in California, where I’ve never seen a Pee Boy. We went to Oklahoma to visit my father’s people, and I discovered the vine-covered rusted car. I took photos all over of car grills and headlights peeking out of the greenery like rusty smiles.
Now that I’m back in my small rural hometown, I love yard art and am planting my own, stones hanging in wire cages attached to the trees.
You’ve done a fine, loving portrait here. Your Aunt Maleena poem was very sly.
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Hi, Chris. I hope you’re doing well today. Oh, that old car sounds so beautiful!! I love stuff like that. Sometimes, the artistic touches aren’t necessarily “intentional,” are they? Or maybe they are. I bet your pictures are awesome.
I saw an old truck recently, and it has been sitting beside a field for so long that a tree is growing out of the back of it. I’ve seen that before, but I’ve never seen one with a tree so large. It had to have been there for years. The house looked empty, so I also wonder what stories go with the truck and house.
Stones hanging in wire cages is an awesome idea! That’s one I hadn’t thought of, but I’d love to give that a try. Thanks so much for your comment and kind words. -Julie
Having had many opportunities to stay on the interstate I always opt for the two lanes for just the same reasons. The creativity on gets to express on their own land is a wondrous sight to behold.
Yes we have been kicked out of better places than this one.
Hi, WM. You are so right about that. I always take the back roads if I can help it, which is why it always takes me a lot longer to get to a destination when I’m traveling. But the stories and sites along the way are so worth it! There’s a lot of beauty in this country that can’t be seen on an interstate. Thanks so much, WM. I hope your day is a good one.
I’m not sure they have that article online, but I’ll search through my back issues and send the info. I’m certain it was published in 2008, so it shouldn’t take too long to find.
Thank you, Kimberli! But please don’t go to too much trouble or rush. That was rude of me to ask you, especially at this busy time of year and with all you’ve got to do! I just got all excited…ha! ha! Now that I know the year, I’ll check around and see if I can find it. You’re awesome:)
I just added a picture of a Pee Dog statue. I think it’s from Brussels, Belgium. I MUST get one of these:)
“However, all residents are encouraged to plant one square
of lemony herbs in the communal meditation center.”
Hehe, this made me giggle. Can’t wait to see you soon!
(Also, word has it Heather is having her baby on Monday!)
Hey, Amber Love! I’m so excited and can’t wait for you to get here. Speaking of folk art, I’ve got stuff all decorated…haha!
I’m also excited for Heather! That is awesome news. I wonder if she knows if it’s a boy or girl. Not that it matters. I was just wondering what the baby’s name will be. I wouldn’t mind seeing a little Heather running around.
Dad would like the lemony herbs line, too. Hee hee. Actually, he sort of inspired it. Talk soon:) Love you always! Mama
I meant to ask ahead of time, but 😯 . . . I forgot. I emailed copies of a couple of your poems to my mother. I know she’ll love them, being a very much down-to-earth person like yourself. I love coming here. I almost always leave with a smile. Thank you again. 😀
Hi, Yousei! Thank you! That’s the nicest compliment. I’d be honored if your mother read them. I love visiting you (and feel like I would love your family), and I’m glad you come here. I keep asking people if they’re kin to me, but nobody will claim me…haha!
I dub thee, Cousin Julie. Considered yourself claimed . . . and forewarned. 😉
Yay!!! Cousin Yousei!!! That’s awesome! You are now officially family!! I’ll go get the pink flamingos and hang up some party lights, and we can celebrate! Actually, the warning should be coming from me. I’m just plain nuts…haha!
I’m loving you already, though. I can tell good folks when I meet them.
That photo is such a great way to sum it all up. You made me laugh! What an awful, stagnant, artificial place that must be, with all those stupid rules.
Hi, Rachel! It’s always great to see you, sis. You’re right about the awful rules. Stagnant is a great way to describe it.
I LOVE Pee Dog! I seriously want one of those…haha!
Love it!
Happy Christmas, Julie x
Thank you, Michelle! And Happy Christmas to you! Santa’s bringing me books:) I love your awesome list and this week’s interview.
My dream yard would have leftovers reborn with plants in them, toilets, sinks, cars, old trucks. Plants growing inside these and plants and bushes and trees. No yard to mow. Just sculpture and nature in married bliss. Cool, huh. Merry Christmas, Julie!!!
Hi, Technobabe. I LOVE the idea of the sinks, cars, and old trucks full of plants and flowers. Now I want to do that with my dream yard…an old truck with flowers growing in the bed of it. It should be pretty easy to do…toss in some dirt. That is so cool. Not having to mow is even better.
Another thing I want to do is to make shapes out of…something…maybe old wire…and let kudzu grow over it and form the shape. Maybe an elephant or something like that. The possibilities are endless, aren’t they?
Thanks, Technobabe. Merry Christmas to you, too!
There was a pee-boy on the front lawn of a house I used to pass on my walk in New England. The house was a cottage on a hillside, pretty, but modest. Next to the pee-boy was a little girl with her hand to her mouth in playful shock at the pee-boy’s antics.
I’m with you–I like neighborhoods without all those codes and bylaws. Your poem says it all.
Hi, Christine! So good to see you, sis. Yes, I should have mentioned the little girl…haha! I’ve seen that one, too. I’m glad you mentioned New England, because I was sure they’ve got to be all over the country (and in different forms all over the world).
And now on Christmas week, I actually saw one that was decorated with lights. That cracked me up.
Thanks so much for the good words, Christine. I’m still not online much today for the holidays but will hop by to visit you tomorrow. xxooxx
Julie, this is one of my all-time favorite posts. Having grown up in rural south Georgia, I’ve seen all you mention and more. I too like to take the two lanes where the sites along the roadside are more interesting. An old tenant house, gray and sagging with a beautiful bed of yellow tulips in front tell a story all its own.
Hi, Glenda. You are right about the old tenant house with a beautiful bed of yellow tulips. It really does tell a beautiful story.
I have relatives in south Georgia and Florida, and the ride is wonderful. Now there is a new interstate, and everybody tells me how great it is, because it cuts off hours of travel time. When I go back, I will still take the back roads:)
Thanks so much, Glenda. It’s always great to see you.