Rouseco Buoy Gold

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Briar Lee

Lifer
Sep 4, 2021
4,964
14,287
Humansville Missouri
How the Clampett family came to be from Bug Tussle —

My mother’s mother was born in 1897 in Hickory County the child of a successful drover with a drayage business.

Well over six feet high in her heels she had a mane of curly and wavy coal black hair to her waist, and at age 14 graduated from Royal School and became a mule skinner and drove the line from the depot at Weaubleau to Camdenton.

In her old age she’d take us grandkids out back of her large white rambler home in Hermitage and crack her long mule whip at bugs in her garden.

A famous local beauty, she would ride white horses in parades for women’s suffrage and for Prohibtion in a long white gown.

He fiancé was killed in Balleau Wood a month before the war ended, and on Armistice Day she was watching the revelers light bonfires when she looked down from her window and saw what she later said the the cutest man she’d ever seen.

(My mother would remark it didn’t hurt his looks any he was the wealthiest widower in Hickory County who owned 2,000 acres of bottomland and a new car and new buggy both)

She was 21, he was 38, and his first wife had died In May.

The wedding pictures show a little bald headed man with a bride towering over him and he’s smiling from ear to ear.

They lived happily ever after (especially Pa) and his new bride became a writer for The Index newspaper.

Sometime in the early twenties, after their first child was born, she started writing a weekly column in hillbilly vernacular in The Index about the adventures of Ma and Pa.

She refused to syndicate the column like Al Caps and Lil Abner.

She refused even to go to the newspaper, and insisted the owner drive to her home at Dooley Bend to pick up the proofs and pay her a percentage of the circulation.

By 1946 when my father met my mother the Hermitage Index was the largest circulation small town newspaper in the United States.

In 1954 when my father and mother were building a new home Ma and Pa came by to see it and Emmett Molder and Dora, were playing pitch at the kitchen table.

My father introduced Emmett as the Mayor of Bug Tussle and thereafter, the weekly columns incorporated multiple characters and stories from Bug Tussle.


In 1958 the daughter Saydee what lived over a half mile South of Bug Tussle was blessed with a fair haired baby boy.

As a child she’d walk with me out back of my home and ask

Can you show me where Bug Tussle is?

I’d say Bug Tussle is right over there Gramdma, can’t you see it?

She’d squint and say all I see, is an old house across the fields,,,,

Let’s go to the milk barn and have your Daddy tell us all about how Bug Tussle was years ago—

The characters Granny, Jed, Jethro and Ella Mae are modeled after my Grandmother’s characters and their vocabulary is purely hers, as is the dead pan humor.

My grandmother’s 1963 book had an order of 200 copies for $400 to the producers and directors of the Beverly Hillbillies, and all litigation was settled.

She still has a small, aging fan base.

The most asked question I get is did Ma write the columns with an eighth grade education or was it Pa, a college graduate.

My thoughts are it was mostly Ma, and Pa helped her.

My mother was never sure, herself.
 
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Dead is just so final while this thread is full of possibilities.
Now it's Dead, ha ha.
Deadhead GIFs - Get the best gif on GIFER
 

Briar Lee

Lifer
Sep 4, 2021
4,964
14,287
Humansville Missouri
This morning I spent $5 for six ounces of Buoy Red.

All the Red blends are supposed to be robust, full flavored, the standard bearer of the brand.

Maybe Rouseco Buoy Red has the best, most awesome, rush of the aroma of aged tobacco when the pouch is opened of all. It’s hard to say because all the pouches have room filling delicious aroma of tobacco when opened.

This tastes like Buoy Gols, with more nictotine maybe. Buoy Gold has loss of Vitamin N as well.

Hard to seperate this from Buoy Gold, if smoked in a pipe.

A tamper is required to enjoy any of these blends, or use your finger.

The base tobaccos in Buoy Red taste like Virginia bright leaf to me.

There is no way in hell anybody could raise tobacco this good in a home garden. They’d never get the cure right, and how would they age it?

28 grams is an ounce, enough to make almost 60 cigarettes or at least thirty standard pipes, because of the ribbon cut.

Five pounds of Buoy would allow anybody to smoke a pipe like a chimney every day for a year, for about fifty bucks.
 

macaroni

Lifer
Oct 28, 2020
1,015
3,195
Texas
Bumping this after it and other recent threads got buried because a member went on a mission to greet every single newcomer over the past many months all at once.
LOL glad you noticed. I was hoping to get a kind response from some dear soul.

@Briar Lee my vote is for you to be President of the forum. And that Beverly Hillbilly history is priceless. Keep it coming.

warm regards to all :)
mike
 
Dec 6, 2019
4,907
22,489
Dixieland
What a thread? Good stuff here.

So what did the most renowed pipe smokers think of the supposed "ryo" tobacco?

I just wanted to add to this:

I'm working my way through a big jar of 4 year old OHM Bold... I've gotta say it's damn sure good enough, and much better than some blends I've smoked.

Who knows where Bugtussle is, or why people in north Alabama call Mountain Dew "Coke"?

Also, Micky D's doesn't and has never carried Pepsi products... Any fat farmer would know that.

Vote Briar Lee for Supreme Court 2024!
 

anotherbob

Lifer
Mar 30, 2019
16,481
30,875
46
In the semi-rural NorthEastern USA
As an experiment I used a 78m roller and hand rolled cigarettes made from:

1. Top cigarette tobacco

2. Golden Harvest Red

3. Golden Harvest Gold

4. Luxury Twist Flake

5. Anniversiery Kake

6. Buoy Gold

The Top, tasted like a good American cigarette. It was mild, tasty,,,,,a cigarette.

None of the pipe tobacco cigarettes had a cigarette like taste, or mouth feel. Frankly a pipe tobacco cigarette is much better, bolder, more nicotine, stronger, than commercial cigarettes.

Buoy was the best pipe tobacco cigarette to my tastes.

A close second was Anniversiary Kake, with a dollop of Perique.

The others were all good, just different.
ok if you say top is decent then you have a very wild and differing sense of decent then most.
 

OlJawBone

Can't Leave
Apr 19, 2021
365
1,364
California
Once upon a time in the sleepy town of Whimsyville, a modest shop stood on the corner of Elm Street and Somewhere Else Avenue. This shop was called "The Great Tobacconist's Emporium," though everyone in town simply referred to it as "The Cat's Pajamas."

Inside, the air was thick with the sweet aroma of pipe tobacco. A bell tinkled whenever a customer opened the door, but the bell sounded like a trombone solo from a 1920s jazz band, complete with muted wah-wah effects. The proprietor, Mr. Balthazar Snickerdoodle, wore a monocle on his left ear and a bow tie made of macaroni. His shop was filled with jars of tobacco that had names like "Rainy Day Fiasco" and "Mango-Infused Armadillo."

One day, a penguin in a top hat wandered into the shop and asked for a quarter pound of "Albatross Sunrise." Mr. Snickerdoodle nodded sagely, though he was actually thinking about a cheese sandwich he once met at a bus stop. He reached under the counter, pulling out a large jar labeled "Quantum Uncertainty" and began scooping tobacco into a paper bag with a ladle that, for reasons unknown, was glowing faintly green.

Meanwhile, outside the shop, a group of synchronized swimmers practiced their routine in a puddle left by last week’s rain. A squirrel wearing roller skates zoomed past, chased by a man in a giant banana suit reciting poetry about lost socks and broken umbrellas.

Back inside, the penguin, who had mysteriously grown a mustache in the last minute, began to play "Chopsticks" on a piano that had suddenly appeared in the corner. The piano was made entirely of cheese, but only on Tuesdays. The pipe tobacco in the shop began to hum softly in a key that didn't exist.

The penguin, now balancing a teacup on its head, turned to Mr. Snickerdoodle and asked, "Do you ever wonder what happened to the blue llamas?"

Mr. Snickerdoodle nodded again, as he always did when confronted with deep philosophical questions, though this time he was actually contemplating the lifespan of a marmalade jar in a parallel universe.

And so, the day continued like any other in Whimsyville, where the pipe tobacco smelled like nostalgia, the shopkeeper dreamt of sandwiches, and the penguin just wanted to learn the tango.

And that’s why you should never play chess with a goldfish.
 
Dec 6, 2019
4,907
22,489
Dixieland
I was at a chicken auction in Screamer Alabama many years ago. There's a story to that name, but I'll save that for another day, so as to make sure not distract from the point of my post.

I had been smoking a blend of tobacco handed down from the many generations of pipe smokers in our family.

We all enjoyed listening to the radio and had named the blend after our favorite station, "105.7 the beat" was the name of our blend. It was a dry blend of sticks and birds eyes, mostly burley to be sure. Passed down through the generations, I enjoyed it quite a bit. Boy, could that blend ever color up a briar pipe. You could see the color coming through the wood in five or six smokes.

That day was hot even for an August day in south Alabama. The baked goods sale would commence before the chickens and I saw a few meringue pies that were obviously outside the window of safe tempertures, and had been for quite a while. I decided it wasn't my place to intervine. Who I am to judge how others deal with food safety?

The auction started and Larry rattled off the bids... "Two, now two and a half, now a cow and a calf, now four." Finally a fat woman in the row before me had bought herself three lemon meringue pies, at four bucks a piece. The auction girl walked over through the dry dusty sawdust on the floor and handed them to the winner. The old linebacker pulled a silver spoon out of her purse and dug in.

These people were Methodists, had they been Baptists or even Church of Christ folks they would have kept those pies cool.

An hour passed by, the auction carried on, and as the auction carried on the fat woman squirmed in that metal chair. A mean rooster escaped his cage and the dust flew into a cloud that took up the first few rows of chairs. The woman stood up with her cheeks clenched as she started sneezing. When the dust cleared the sad reality was on display, a brown puddle near her feet, mostly soaked up by the sawdust, told the tale.

As I watched the last few chickens find their new temporary homes with mexican and guatamalan familes, I thought about my grandmother's wedding and how those tuxedo shoes I never returned were so comfortable. Great shoes for fishing and mowing the grass.

Who knows how much my cousin wound up paying for 'em... but it was ancient history, that wedding had happened over five years before.

 
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Sgetz

Lifer
May 21, 2020
1,503
2,077
74
UK
Frankly I'm beginning to lose the will to live reading this thread! If you enjoy cheap wine, tobacco , whisky, women(?) Good luck to you. Sadly I don't . This makes my hobby expensive. Some of this is better than a Monty python sketch