Rick Houser
Webster says that the term bragging rights is “a good reason to talk with pride about something you have done.” As a young boy onward it seemed that life on the farm was based always on competing for that defined right. It didn’t matter if it was who was the strongest and could skip a flat stone across a space of water and causing the most skips. If you did the most you then had the right to brag if so desired. I feel safe in saying this went on from day light until dusk.

I feel it was due to a farmer’s life mostly. Most all a farmer does is manual labor of some sort of a skill most always was needed to move the job along quicker. From wedding tobacco beds to tossing bales of hay, the jobs were greatly needed but let’s face it the jobs took up a lot of hours. Hours that became boring and mundane in nature. That was unless the task was turned into a competition in some way or form. For example, look at setting tobacco. You set on the transplanter with a bunch of plants to go into the ground. All the person really had to do was take a plant put it in the finger that put it into the ground then grab another plant. Over and over until the day ended or the patch was completely set. Think about it. Boring!

But if a person counted how many plants went through their hands in a minute, well the one who put the most plants in the ground was the fastest. Wouldn’t the two on the setter come out even? Not if you get in too big of a hurry and missed your turn. This could and did go on all day and the best got to boast.

This could be for a group such as a hay crew to see how many bales of hay they could move from the field into the hay mow. When talking to other guys from other crews the numbers were matched and a winner would be declared in most cases. Sometimes convincing the other person you were faster didn’t happen and it stayed a tie. From the start of the day on we would match each other as to how much, how long, or how fast.

This would also spill over to a farmer and his crops or produce from their gardens. How many bushel to the acre of corn, or pounds of tobacco per acre. I have seen huge tomatoes on the front porch at a farmer’s house or a very large potato so any visitor could see the monster you had grown in your garden. It also allowed anyone who thought they could out do it to bring it on.

For at least until the next growing season the top producer had earned the right to tell of his ability to outgrow all others. Not all would brag but I have seen quite a few that if someone brought up how well you had done they would just smile real big and nod their heads to confirm it.

But of all the contests for the bragging rights around here it was who could cut tobacco the fastest. Cutting tobacco was a talent that not all could excel at. It seemed in each neighborhood there would be one or two that could and would put the stalks of tobacco on the sticks so quickly and accurately and show little or no effort that they earned a lot of praise from all the rest.

I feel I have cut with some of these men in the same patch. I didn’t say I was cutting beside them. I want to name some I have witnessed but am afraid I would miss someone. The story I will relay is of a man before my time and can only tell what I was told. In I think the 40s there was a young man named Mel Ott from around Felicity that they said was the fastest. One day a retired man said I don’t believe you to be the fastest and I am betting you $50 that you can’t drop your own sticks and cut 1000 sticks of tobacco in an eight hour day.

Mel said, I will take your bet but I’m being paid by the stick, so no matter what the outcome I still want to be paid what I earn by the stick. The man said it’s a bet. So the next day many folks other than the other cutters and the man who bet showed up and watched Mel.

He didn’t cut 1000 sticks but instead he cut over 1250 sticks approximately, as I’ve been told. Now a thousand sticks in a day is the measuring stick for a very good cutter and what Mel did was a land mark for a new standard. I believe this to be true as the bet was carried out on my dad’s farm and he is the one who told me this.

Dad wasn’t a man to bet but he loved a great contest. He said besides, he got more tobacco cut that day than he had all fall. From that time forward Mel Ott held the bragging rights if he wanted to brag but I never heard him boast. However if ask he would smile and nod his head yes.

For a million bragging rights and to make a day move faster and with some added interest it served their purpose then and I assume they still do. I have tried many times to win at a challenge of the best and can say sometimes I did. Also it is safe to say many times I didn’t but almost every time I enjoyed the chance to take on the challenge.

When it came to lifting I could win most times. I could even lift the front end of a Volkswagen and carry it in a half circle and never lost that challenge.

But remember that strength doesn’t take the need for talent or skills. Just big muscles to lift. But it helped the day pass a little easier and made it more interesting.

Rick Houser grew up on a farm near Moscow in Clermont County and loves to share stories about his youth and other topics. He may be reached at houser734@yahoo.com.