To Believe Or Not To Believe

     "Believe nothing you hear, only half of what you see and everything you feel". According to Encyclopedia .com this quotation is from the mid 19th century and warns against over-reliance on one's own experience.
     I have heard some form of this quote all of my life and sometimes the true meaning came home to roost the hard way. Mostly it was a matter of  "old timers" trying to pull the wool over my eyes while playing a joke or just flat out spinning a yarn laced with truth and vivid embellishments. Either way it was all done with no intended harm and everyone usually got a good laugh out of it. Once you had the wool pulled over your eyes often enough you got to where you could distinguish truth from fiction and though you didn't believe all that you heard you could rely on the honesty of your eyes and feelings. This held true for centuries until the rise of the "internet", since then all hell has broken loose.
     The internet has opened up all kinds of avenues for deceit, deception and out right lying. Even if you are smart enough to determine fact from fiction there are thousands, if not millions, of people who will believe anything they see in print or hear with there own ears. These people think the internet is gospel and everything therein has come down from the mountain engraved in stone. Unfortunately there are people who for whatever reason seem to get a thrill out of spreading rumors, lies and innuendos. They do this for monetary gain, for political power, they do it to mislead, to sway opinion and to slander and yes they do it for the thrill.
     The other day I ran across an internet posting claiming some political figure made a statement that was not only offensive but showed their ignorance on the subject. Because this person has recently been a sore on the backside of the political arena, the posting sounded very much like something they would say and I bought into it hook, line and sinker.  Irritated, I made a comment on the posting only to have someone point out to me the posting was a fake. Why someone would want to mislead the public and malign a political figure is beyond me especially since this political figure seems to be doing enough of that all by themselves. Who created this posting may never be known because the internet seems to welcome anonymity.
     With the internet truth and fiction are one and the same. Pictures can be revised "photo shopped" so skillfully one would believe unicorns actually exist, even recorded statements can sound authentic to the ear. The days of old timers jokingly trying to pull your leg or make a story seem more interesting are long gone, you can't trust that your eyes to see what you think you see or your ears to always hear the truth. I know that from now on I will probably adhere to the old saying "If it sounds (or looks) too good to be true, it probably isn't".
     Abraham Lincoln is quoted to say "you can fool all of the people some of the time, some of the people all of the time but you can not fool all of the people all of the time". In his day he was right, the internet has changed all that, it has changed the world we live in for the good and unfortunately for the worse.
































   

The Jetties

     1966 was a good year, I was dating the most beautiful girl in the world, I was living ( at the invitation of the U.S. Navy ) at the beach in Cocoa Beach, Florida, what more could a guy want ?
     Linda and I were head over heels in love and we took every opportunity to be together. My duties with the Navy didn't have normal hours and Linda was still in high school plus she held down a part time job  to boot. Some how we managed to find time for dates but the hour of the day may have varied though that didn't matter to us. The next hurtle was where to go on our dates.
     We had bought a 1958 Chevy Impala convertible for $350, it was rusty, had about five different colors of paint, three of the four side windows were cracked, the rear plastic window was yellowed but it did have a hot engine. Yea, it was a mess and got a lot of laughs but it was ours.
     As for the places to go on a date they were plentiful.
     There was a small lake, not far from Linda's home, by the name of  Clear Lake. A local civic club of which her father was a member, cleaned up the lake several years earlier. They removed all of the debris and captured all of the alligators and with county funds built a concession stand and picnic tables, the county staffed and managed it. The water was very clear and it was a great place to swim.
     Then there was a drive-in theater, for about fifty cents each we could see a double feature and make out during the intermission or just make out, not all of the movies were interesting. There were good things about the drive-in and not so good, the good was you could take a break anytime to go to the restroom or grab a burger. The bad thing was the mosquitoes, they were horrendous, if you rolled up the windows the heat and humidity was unbearable and the mosquitoes always found a way to get in. The drive-in sold a little repellent device that you lit with a lighter and set on the dash, it smoldered and put out some sort of repellent but here again you had to roll up the windows but then once you got heavy into making out a few hundred mosquitoes were a minor irritation compared to the rivers of sweat we worked up.
     Cocoa Beach was a great place. Back in the 60's the town seemed to never shut down, it was, after all, the height of the Apollo space program. The beach was almost as good as Daytona Beach, it was not as wide but you could drive on it for a couple of miles. Sand, sun and surf, a Florida staple.
     Then there were the "parking areas". Any place you could park your car and make out without being disturbed was a parking area and there were lots of them in failed subdivisions or turn outs along the river road or the beach.
     I need to stop here and layout a little background. I had a good relationship with Linda's Mom, her Dad was a different story but Mom, as I called her, liked me. Sometimes I would be at Linda's house waiting for her to get off work, when she called I would go get her  and save Mom the trouble. As I walked out the door I would jokingly tell Mom "don't wait up we are going to South Carolina to get married", she would smile and say ha ha. Now that I have laid out the above background I will tell you about one of our favorite "parking " places - "The Jetties".
     Port Canaveral was a dividing line between Cape Kennedy which was restricted and the civilian city of Cape Canaveral, it also was a canal connecting the Atlantic Ocean to the inter-coastal waterway and or Banana River. The south side of the port held a small fleet of trawlers and a couple of tug boats. The north side was taken up by the U.S.Navy (this is where I worked ). They had a ship called the USS Observation Island, it monitored all Polaris missile launches from the Polaris submarines that came in for testing. The civilian side also had "The Jetties"they were piles of big rocks on both sides of the channel  that stretched out into the ocean and served as a breaker for the channel and provided for some great fishing.
     The Jetties as we called them were a prime "parking area", they were wild with over grown palmetto bushes, palm trees and sand dunes. the chances of getting stuck in the sugar sand were very good but not a deterrent. Any given Friday and Saturday night would find a steady stream of bouncing headlights as cars carefully navigated the ruts we called a road into the jungle of the Jetties. The great thing about the Jetties was the offshore breezes  that kept the mosquitoes at bay and quickly dried perspiration. When talking about taking your best girl to the Jetties we sometimes said we were going to watch the "submarine races", the fact there were nuclear submarines at the port had nothing to do with races.
     One Friday night I was at Linda's house, she was working till 11:00 pm. I got up to leave and as I walked out the door I told mom "see you tomorrow  Mom", she laughed. I picked Linda up and we decided to go to the Jetties. To make a long story short, things got a little hot and heavy, the next thing we knew it was around four in the morning before we headed home. The sun was coming up when we pulled into the drive, Mom was waiting up when we walked in and in no mood to talk. After that we were careful about when we got home and I didn't joke around with Mom too often. The irony is that with all of the problems she had with the preparations for our wedding, she told us if she had it to do over she would have paid us to go to South Carolina.
     As with many things from my past they exist only in my memories now. The drive-in is long gone, I am sure Clear Lake is still there but somehow it has probably changed. The space program is not as exciting as back in the sixties. Port Canaveral has expanded, a Disney cruise ship sails from there and there is a good sport fishing business and several swanky restaurants. The Jetties, well now  they are a county park known as "Jetty Park", there are paved roads, with paved parking, picnic tables and flowering bushes. Every weekend families gather for a day at the beach, fish on the jetties and hope to see a big ship sail down the channel.
     Some people don't handle change too well, I have to admit I am one of those people but as I have gotten older I realize change is a fact of life.  My "Jetties" are long gone except in my memories, there they are as clear as ever.




























   










































   

Tears Of Love

     When Linda and I got engaged we eagerly made plans for our future starting with the wedding. Linda like most girls dreamed of walking down the isle and holding my hand as we said our vows so a church wedding it was going to be. Plans for our June wedding started in December.
     I don't know who was more excited about this wedding, the bride or the bride's mother. Together they thought of every detail from the invitations to the punch bowl. It seemed that for months the wedding was all Linda and her mom could talk about. My job was to decide who of my relations, friends and acquaintances I was sending an invitation to, get their addresses and once the invitation was written ( Linda did that part ) I scrawled my signature on them.
     My time at my duty station was growing short and I knew that a transfer was upcoming  but had no idea when. This was one thought we tended to ignore, we were happy and in love, nothing could put a damper on our big day or so we thought.
     Just a couple of weeks before the wedding I got my orders. They couldn't have come at a worse time and they couldn't have been more disconcerting. The orders said I was going to Assault Craft Div, 12, the name alone was something to be concerned about. The word "Assault" in any context should be alarming but when the military uses it they usually mean some sort of armed confrontation. Add to that the fact that the unit was listed as secret and no one could tell me anything about the outfit, what was it or where it was. This was 1967, the war in Vietnam was escalating, more and more men and materials were shipping out every day. Every day the list of military personnel wounded or killed in the line of duty grew longer.
     I went to Linda and told her I had orders, I told her everything I knew about the outfit, which was nothing, and told her what I thought I was getting in to. Tours of duty in Vietnam usually went on for 12 months, this was no way to start out a marriage, add to that, I may be in combat with the possibility of getting wounded or worse. Making Linda a widow was on my mind and it didn't sit well. I thought we should postpone the wedding, the possibility of coming home an invalid or in a coffin was something I didn't want to put Linda through.
     Linda took all of this hard, we were in love and she wanted nothing more than to be my wife. She cried so hard rivulets of tears ran down her cheeks, her body trembled with heart wrenching sobs. She pleaded with me. In the end I hugged her and I kissed away the tears, we kept our date at the church. Four months later she kissed me goodbye.
     During her final months Linda refused to be less than upbeat for her friends and family but there were times when I helped her to stand I would hold her tight against me while she cried from the pain and exhaustion. The morning after she passed it was my tears, my heart wrenching sobs that shook my body, she couldn't hold me and kiss away my tears but my love for her got me through.
   
   

Have You Ever

     Have you ever run around in the cool summer evening catching fireflies with your bare hands, have you ever walked in a field of grass to catch grass hoppers to use as fish bait ?
     As a young boy these were but a few activities that occupied my time. We didn't have air conditioning back then, the summers were hot and sticky even in the cool of the evening. We kids would spend most of our waking hours outdoors - scantily clad, barefoot and dripping with rivulets of sweat covering our bodies. We ran around yelling and screaming from dawn til way past dark, our parents impatiently waited for us to wind down so we could bathe and go to bed.
     We played children's games like Cowboys and Indians, Hide and Go Seek, Annie Over, King of the Hill and many more, they were games that got us outside and kept us active. We were skinny, knock kneed, had big ears, dirty faces, unkempt hair and grins from ear to ear. Our Moms did all they could to keep our bellies full but we were so active the calories we consumed were quickly burned away, baby fat was not a term often used in our neighborhood.
     During the day we rode bikes, climbed trees and slid down grass covered hills on pieces of cardboard. In quieter moments we lay on our backs in grass and clover covered lawns looking up at the clouds picking out shapes of animals and faces of people. We would pick the white long stemmed flower of the clover, tie them together to make wreaths, bracelets, chains, belts and necklaces. We captured June Bugs and tied thread to a leg and allowed them to fly about as if on a leash.
     We sat at windows watching a summer storm pelt the earth with large droplets of rain, patiently we waited for the storm to pass so we could go back outside and walk barefoot through warm puddles of fresh rain water. After a summer storm the rain drops took time to fall through the leaves and wash the dust away leaving an aroma of freshness to fill young lungs at play.
     When the nighttime came we punched holes in jar lids to allow air to enter mason jars that held the fireflies ( lightning bugs ) that we caught. We played Hide and Go Seek loudly yelling "you're it" when we tagged someone as we ran around in the dark. We raised our heads and looked into the night sky searching for the "Little Dipper" or the "North Star" among the millions of stars visible. We watched distant flashes of lightning in far away storm clouds.
     Have you ever spent time on a farm ? I got to spend my summers with my Grandpa and Granny Riggan on their farm. Grandpa was a farmer of the old school, he had no combustible engine powered machines, he used mules to pull his plows, his bare hands to milk his cows and the muscles  of  his lean body to toss around bales of hay to feed his animals.
     The farm was old, it had been a long time since the house had seen a coat of paint, the tin roof was rusty. The foundation was large rocks set at the corners allowing cool air to flow beneath the house. The steps were large thick stones worn smooth over the years by countless bare feet and shoes. I guess the place wasn't much to look at but to a young boy it was a whole new world filled with discovery and adventure.
     Walking barefoot through a farm yard was not like walking through clover, if you were not careful you might step in something squishy only to look down and see oozing chicken poop between your toes. The "peeping" sounds of newborn chickens would catch your attention as they foraged for bits of food or scampered for the protection of the mother hens wings.
     Have you ever walked barefoot behind a team of mules as they plowed furrows of fresh earth or maybe you rode them bareback listening to your Grandfather guide them along with "gee's and haw's" ? Have you ever played in the hayloft of a barn building forts and tunnels from bales of hay or climbed high in an apple tree to pick apples and eat them while white clouds floated overhead in a blue sky ? Have you ever gone down on your knees and lapped cool clean water from a stream as it meandered through shadowy woods or chased grasshoppers in a field of tall hay ? Have you ever skipped stones across the calm waters of a pond or lake ?
     No, I don't suppose you have done any of these things because they were a way of life from a time of long ago, a time of my youth, a time when life was a little more relaxed and enjoyable.
     I wish you could have been there when life was carefree when all kids had to worry about was how much longer they could stay outside and play before it was bedtime.
     Some say technology is robbing the kids today of their youth, I think this may be true. But then again it could be that video games, computers and cellphones are the new "Cowboys and Indians" or "fireflies". At least you can go barefoot while playing a video game and you won't get dirt on your face after spending all day on a computer but it sounds like a lonely way to grow up, how sad.