Teknolagie is here

I wern't no more'n a runty li'l ol' piglet way back in the flatwoods up Kyiche creek, when one day I run out from under a little scrub of a sweet gum bush and near 'bout blundered right into feller sittin' down on a stump eatin' a hardware lunch. He had 'im one 'a them little square cans 'a sardines and some crackers, and some other stuff he had all wrapped up in a big piece 'a paper that had some kind 'a writin' all over it, with li'l ol' pi'tures looked like they was drawed on it. The feller was holdin' 'is lunch in one hand and that piece 'a paper in th' other, and lookin' and lookin' at the piece 'a paper real ser'ius, up one side and down t'other, over an' over, then cross one way, and then cross ag'in. Once in awhile, he'd grin, and once 'er twict, he cackled out laughin' right out loud. I couldn' figger out what was th' matter with 'im, er what was funny 'bout that piece 'a paper, but he shore was tickled. I first thought he might 'a been kinda loony, or might 'a had gas pains, er somethin' else.

He was studyin' that piece a' paper so close that he certn'ly wadn' payin' me no mind, so I jis' sat back and tried to catch on t' what he kep' snickerin' about. In a few minutes, another feller come strollin' up outta th' woods, and laid a ol' crosscut saw down by a tree and set down on another stump. I lis'ened to 'em talk, an' from what they said, they was cuttin' logs and had taken'd a break fer dinner.

Th' new feller said, "Ain't you through eatin'? It's time fer us to git t' sawin'." Other'n said, "I been readin' this paper my ol' lady wrapped my lunch in. One of 'em is th' funny paper, and I got t' laughin' at it. Lemme read you some 'a this stuff out 'a Li'l Abner . . . "

Well, I didn' know what papers was, let alone funny papers, er Li'l Abner, er readin', but I was mighty cur'ios about it, if it made that ol' boy laugh out loud. I lis'ened and he started t' lookin' at that paper, and talkin' somethin' that made my ears perk up. "Umkay erehay ungunyay . . ." And a whole string 'a claptrap that sounded funny when that feller said it from lookin' at that piece a' paper, but somehow it sounded familiar to me.

Then it hit me like a clap 'a thunder! I reck'anized it right off. Shoot, it was pure Pig Latin, like I been hearin' th' ol' tush hawgs talk around my neck a' th' woods all my life.

When it dawned on me that that Al Capp feller that had made them li'l ol' pi'tures on that piece a' paper had figgered out what us hawgs was talkin' about an' could put it down on a piece a' paper so other folks could say it out jis' like he set it down, I knowed right then I had t' git me a' education, so I could keep up with what reg'lar People was up to, an' not jis' hawgs. People was mostly the ones that was after our hams, and if us hawgs made it, some us would haf' t' keep up with what People had on their minds, and git purty scarce when they got t' talkin' about bacon, and po'k chops and chitlin's. Don't mind them deer hunters. They jis' bring corn to the woods, which is not bad when the mast is scarce. But when they start talkin' grits and fatback, git outta town!

I hung out around school houses, lis'nin' fer anything that would he'p a hawg git ahead, 'til I got up near 'bout grown. I figgered I was in purty good shape, keepin' up with People, stayin' outta sight when the weather started gittin' cold and they started layin' in hik'ry wood by their smokehouses.

Here lately, I started gittin' uneasy when they stopped readin' the papers and lookin' at the pi'tures on TV, and started talkin' about somethin' called "computers." It took me awhile to giffer out what that was about, specially when they got to talkin' about something called "e-mail." I fin'ly caught on, by just gittin' up as close as I could, and watchin' 'em starin' at a li'l ol' box with flashin' lights in it, and pi'ctures and writin' that kep' on jumpin' around. AFter while, I figgered I knowed enough about it to give it a try, so I commenced to git word to the Boss to git me one 'a them e-mails.

Well, sir, I'm now hooked up, with a name, a address, even a password. If y'all want t' tell me somethin' you c'n do it on the e-mail. My address is pwrooter@thepineywoods.com . If it's fittin' I'll put it in my colum and ever'body can learn what they need to know. Write me, y'hear?

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