A long time ago in a faraway land called Wisconsin, a small boy was working with other children on a float for a parade. The float consisted of a hay wagon with a bunch of things nailed to it. Said small boy does not remember the theme of this particular float, except that it had something to do with 4-H (I pledge my head to clearer thinking, my heart to greater loyalty, my hands to larger service, my health to better living for my club, my community, my country and my world).
Being yet quite young, this small boy was not wise to the ways of the world. And as he hammered, the small boy held high up on the hammer and gently plinked along hoping not to crush his fingers.
At this point in our story, a large man in bib overalls with a smoke-damaged raspy voice sidled up beside him.
“Your father teach you to hammer that way?” he inquired. Then he and his friend proceeded to laugh.
The small boy wasn’t sure exactly what had been intended by the comment, but now 25 years later, the small boy realizes that this large man was what is commonly referred to as a jerk.