My grandfather worked hard all of his life, mostly in the row crop business. He had always had a few cows in the pasture at the bottom of his property. Later in life he relaxed on the row crops and took a bigger interest in the cattle. Just beside his house he fenced in three or four acres and put in thirty or forty yearlings. To fatten cattle up you have to feed them a lot of protein. All that feed has to be processed. My brother Wayne came home from Birmingham to visit and brought his friend, Gregg. Being a city boy, Gregg had smelled some pretty bad stuff, but he had never smelled that much manure in one spot before. “Mr. Carlile, how can you stand to smell all that cow shit?” he asked. Grandpa just gave that grin and said, “It smells like money to me, boy.” He called all young people boy or girl, depending.