Seems Like Only Yesterday

                                  Seems Like Only Yesterday

     I picked up the newspaper this morning and read a column by a favorite writer, Darrell Huckaby.   He talks about  another popular writer, Lewis Grizzard, who passed away twenty years ago.  Twenty years ago was 1994.   I was forty seven, a little less grey headed, a lot thinner, and the kids were still in high school - could it really be twenty years ago ? - seems like only yesterday.
     I look at myself in the mirror and there is an old man starring back at me.  He has grey hair, a big belly, drooping eyebrows (what's left of them), and age spots.  I got more hair in my ears than most guys have on their head and have to trim my nose hairs more often than I get a haircut.  I don't know when I turned into this old person because it was only yesterday that I was young, lean and tall with dark wavy hair and, if I do say so myself, I was damn good looking.  Could it be that life really does pass in the blink of an eye, does time really fly - snap your fingers today and tomorrow is yesterday.
     As I write my stories the memories are as vivid as if they happened yesterday even the ones that have to be pried from the darkest corners of the deepest caverns of my brain retain the freshness of yesterday. The sights, smells and sounds I encounter today can often recreate things from long ago, and even though I continue walking around in the present, my mind can dredge up some long forgotten memory without me missing a step.
     I see the little four year old boy next door as he learns to ride his first two wheel bike and I remember my first bike and the skinned toes, knees and elbows that went with the experience.  The other day I was burning dead leaves and all of a sudden I was back on the farm playing with matches when I set Grandpa Riggan's fields on fire.  Inhaling the smoke,  I could see the flames and columns of smoke rise above Grandpa's head as he and Granny beat back the flames with wet feed sacks.  I know it wasn't just yesterday but my minds eye and my senses tell me otherwise.
     Seems like only yesterday that I struck out on my own not knowing where I was going or how I would get there.  Back then there were fewer yesterdays and many more tomorrows.
     It was just yesterday that I held Danny in my arms his head fit snugly in my palm and his feet barely reached my elbow.  I saw his first smiles and heard his first words, I watched him learn to walk.   Now I am doing the same thing with his daughter and thinking life doesn't get any better than this.  Clay has a picture of himself, Danny, his Aunt Vickie and Uncle Larry on a fishing trip about twenty five years ago. Vickie is holding him tight as he grins from ear to ear while holding his first fish.  In the grand scheme of things it wasn't that long ago but it is a yesterday I treasure.  I hope to have my picture taken with MJ when she catches her first fish if not maybe Aunt Vickie can fill in for me (she does have a nicer smile).
     It was only yesterday when I met Linda.  She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.  Soon Linda and I will mark our forty seventh anniversary.  The ravages of time have taken their toll on both of us but she feels like an eighteen year old girl when I hold her in my arms.  Her skin is still soft to the touch and her voice as sweet as ever to my ears.  Her blue eyes are still bright and shinny in the sun light.  She still lets me hold her hand as we walk beside each other.  She is still my girl and just as beautiful.  Some yesterdays have no tomorrows, only now's and forever's.
     The problem is that there are a lot of yesterdays and at this stage of life the tomorrows too quickly become more yesterdays and there aren't that many more tomorrows.  By the time I finish this piece now will be tomorrow then yesterday.  This could be an episode of the 1960's "Twilight Zone".




 

Grandpa Was A Redneck

               Grandpa Was A Redneck

    Recently I was watching a PBS show about family farms in Georgia that have been in existence for several generations.  One of the farmers interviewed told how his grandfather worked the farm walking behind a plow pulled by mules or horses.  Everything had to be done by hand and manual labor.  This man was amazed that his grandfather was able to manage the hard work by himself.  This got me to remembering Grandpa Riggan as he worked his farm.   I was pretty young back then and spent most of my time playing, exploring and generally having a good time. I was about ten or eleven when grandpa sold the farm and he was in his late seventies, but the one thing I do remember was that Grandpa was always working. 
     Grandpa's farm implements consisted of several walk behind plows for the various types of plowing required, a ride on mower for cutting fields of hay and a drag made of logs tied together for smoothing out the freshly plowed field.  All of this high tech equipment was powered by a team of mules named Doc and Kit.  Certain times of the year required such things as a wagon for hauling hay and tobacco or the need for a seed planter - again both drawn by mules.   These items he would borrow from neighbors.
     Most times he would do his own planting by hand and for this he had devised very sophisticated tools such as a stick that looked like a walking cane sharpened on one end. This tool would be used for planting corn and allowed Grandpa to plant without bending over.  He would walk down the prepared row and about every twelve inches he would push the sharpened end of the stick about three inches into the ground and drop in a kernel of seed corn from the bag he carried over his shoulder and with his foot he would kick dirt into the hole never missing a step.  He could plant several acres of corn per day.  I know this because I was the little barefoot boy walking behind him picking up worms and dropping them into a can for fishing.
     Sowing fields of grass or hay was performed by using the broadcast method.  He would walk in a straight line with a burlap bag filled with seed draped over his shoulder occasionally reaching into the bag for a handful of seed and with the flick of his wrist he would disperse the seed in an arc before him. His motions were such that he never slowed his pace and the coverage of the seed was complete - no bare spots.   
     Planting tobacco was more involved although it utilized similar sophisticated tooling.  The tool used to make the hole for the tobacco slip was a shorter version of the one for planting corn.  The tobacco planter was only six or seven inches long cut from the fork of a limb and shaped something like a pistol ( looking back I think the shape of these tools were an early form of ergonomics - they presented the proper shape for planting acres of crops without tiring the various muscles of the body).  Tobacco planting, as was harvesting, required several people and Grandpa would hire temporary help or as he did one year, several members of the family came in to help.  I remember Mom and Dad planting tobacco one year.  Planting tobacco required one person to make a hole and drop in the tobacco slip ( a baby tobacco plant grown from seed ) and another person to pour water into the hole and cover it over with dirt and another to keep the first two supplied with water and slips.  I was the one pouring water into the hole.  I do remember Mom only doing this one time and she was not too happy - after all, mom was not raised on a farm.
     During the hot summer Grandpa had to continuously work the fields removing weeds , aerating the dirt and  in the case of vegetables, harvesting the crop for sale at the farmers market in Gallatin or Lebanon. 
     Tobacco required what was called suckering which was removing a sucker leaf growing from the same spot as another leaf.  The tobacco plant was naturally sticky and when this job was performed in the heat of the day it was, for sure,  a dirty job.  There was an upside to this task - the tobacco plant attracted a cut worm that had to be removed.   They were  about as thick as your little finger, long and bright green with black and yellow stripes and rows of stubby legs.  They looked like one of the characters from "Alice in Wonder Land "  but they were great fish bait.
     Hoeing the tobacco was another job where a person used a sharpened hoe to remove weeds from between the plants.  Grandpa usually hired a couple of local guys to help him in this job. One year when I was about nine I talked him into letting me hoe the tobacco and get paid.  Best as I remember I got too close to some of the tobacco plants and hoed them right out of the ground.  Grandpa either didn't know of my errors or chose not to say anything.  My payment came that weekend when he and Granny took me to town and bought me a pair of shoes which I was proud of.  I wore the shoes to church with Grandpa and later to school but I was growing so fast then they were probably too small by Christmas. 
     In addition to working in the fields there were cows to be milked by hand, Grandpa had two or three, the mules to be fed and harnessed, and the pigs to be slopped ( fed ).  When the young piglets were weaned they had to be ringed - meaning they had to have a steel ring placed in their nose with pliers to keep them from rooting and tearing up the land and crops.  Placing a ring in the nose of a pig was simple, first Grandpa would pour food into the pig feed trough and the pigs would come running, once the pigs were inside the pen the work began.  There were special ring pliers that held a ring similar to a "D" ring - Grandpa would insert a ring into the pliers and with one hand he would grab a pig by an ear and raise his front legs in the air then insert and squeeze the pliers attaching the ring around the center cartilage of the pig's nose then pull the pig by the ear to the gate and throw him out into the barnyard.  This whole process was very noisy in that the pigs  normally grunted and squealed while eating but when Grandpa grabbed one by the ear you would have thought he was killing it.  Grandpa was quite efficient at this and had it been popular back then he could have had a second income source as a body piercer, bellybuttons, noses, ears and nipples couldn't be that difficult. 
     Grandpa Riggan worked hard all of his life.  He was well respected in his community and church.  He raised a large family when times were lean and he may have been poor by some standards but he did own his farm and his family never went hungry.  Many days I watched him as he walked behind his plow and in his quiet voice telling his mules to getup or whoa, gee or haw, the reins would be wrapped around his neck and shoulder as his hands grasped the handles of the plow, the furrows straight as a plumb line.  He kept to a rigid schedule - up before dawn, in the field by sunrise, and along about mid morning he would stop and walk to the tree line where he had stashed a jug of water.  There he would sit puffing on his corncob pipe and look out over his fields with eyes shaded by an old sweat stained fedora hat.  Had he known the farmers of Georgia they would have called him brother.
     Growing up I had heard the term "redneck" and understood that it inferred being a farmer who worked his fields in the hot summer sun that burned the back of his neck and quite often a portion of his chest and forearms a dark red.  According to the internet many people back then referred the term "redneck" to uneducated and poor rural southern workers.  Today the term seems to refer to anyone who lives in the country, who are not too smart or sociable, may or may not work often and generally exhibiting behavior that makes people wonder if anyone could really be that stupid.   Judging by the reality shows on TV today there are definitely some strange people who fit this description though none of them fit my conception of a "redneck".
     Grandpa was a "redneck" alright, as were many of his forefathers.  I wish he were here now so I could talk to him and tell him how proud I am to be his grandson.     

Grandpa's First Christmas

             Grandpa's First Christmas





     Since becoming an adult it has been my belief that the true enjoyment in Christmas is watching a child when they first view the Christmas tree surrounded by presents and toys. The innocence of a child is only compounded at Christmas time.  Their joy and happiness is pure and simple, untainted with knowledge and experience.
     Prior to having kids of our own Linda and I would sometimes be invited to a friends house to watch their kids when they walked sleepy eyed into the room where the tree was brightly lit and surrounded by gifts and toys from Santa Clause. The younger the child the more amazing the look they have on their face and the bigger their eyes get trying to take it all in.  I don't remember what Danny and Clay got for Christmas when they were younger but I do remember the expressions on their faces.
     It has been many years since we have experienced this kind of Christmas but now I am a Grandpa.   Last year was MJ's first Christmas but she was only ten days old and Linda was in the hospital recovering from some serious heart surgery. Needless to say Christmas of 2012 was different.
    This year Linda is much better and MJ was one year and ten days old on Christmas morning. Danny and Marie made plans for Linda and I, Bob and Judy Loftin ( the other grandparents with whom we share MJ ) to be at their house by seven o'clock in the morning to watch MJ open presents and eat breakfast.
      When we arrived MJ was in the den with her mother playing with her toys. We walked around the kitchen corner and there she was looking up with a smile on her face.  By the time Linda had figured out how to open the baby gate MJ had already crawled over to the step and was waiting to be picked up. Being the proud Grandpa that I am I never miss an opportunity to hold her and neither Linda or I miss and opportunity to smother her with hugs and kisses.  Christmas morning was such an opportunity for both of us. When you kiss her neck or tickle her she has the best giggle and biggest smile. I do love being a Grandpa.
     We played with MJ until Bob and Judy arrived and Linda reminded me that I must share. With reluctance I handed her over to Judy who proceeded to shower her with more hugs and kisses.  MJ is one lucky little girl.
     We gathered around the Christmas tree, us Grandparents sat off to the side while Marie and MJ sat on the floor and Danny handed out the presents. I think MJ was a little overwhelmed with everything.   She doesn't yet understand that she is supposed to rip off the colorful paper and bows to quickly get to the present inside.  She still thinks she should eat the paper.  It took encouragement and help from Mom and Dad but she finally got the presents unwrapped - now the problem became what to play with first.
     All of the big stuff was nice and pretty but it was the individual pieces that caught her attention. Anything that she could grab and hold on to with her fingers and then stick into her mouth were the most fascinating gifts. It mattered not that the little horsy would slide down the incline with a princess on it's back - she wanted to chew on the horse.  The big attention grabber was a double sided electronic tablet with buttons.  When you push a button it makes a sound relating to the picture on the button.  One side had the alphabet and numbers 1-0, the other side had pictures of things that made a sound and at the bottom there were musical notes that played a tune when pushed.  This she hung on to and drug around.
     After eating breakfast we went home for a nap and later went to Bob and Judy's house for another get together. Bob and Judy's son Will and wife Tara were there and Tara's mother, Clay and Maggie and later more of Bob and Judy's family arrived.  MJ was passed around from one lap to another.  She was hugged and kissed by everyone several times. She looked so cute in her red Christmas dress and white tights. Her bright eyes and big smile made the day for all.
     MJ is very close to walking now and she is cute when she is standing next to her Daddy with a handful of his pants in her tiny hand. During the afternoon she would crawl over to the storm door and stand with one hand on the glass and talk to the dog and cat on the other side. As long as she has something to hold on to she will take a step or two and then let go falling down to a crawling position.  Her verbal skills are improving also but I think it will be quite sometime before anyone can begin to understand anything she may want to say. I do enjoy the baby sounds she makes now.
     All of the excitement and attention of the day might overwhelm other babies but MJ seemed to thrive on it.  I don't know how long a nap she took in the morning but she was still going strong when Linda and I left about 5:30.
     I have no idea how many more Christmas's I will celebrate but after almost losing Linda last year  I look forward to all of them just as I look forward to our time together watching MJ grow.  MJ is at the age where she is constantly fascinated by everything she sees and hears, every moment is a learning experience, everything is a challenge.  I love to take her outside for a short walk and watch  as she continuously turns her head from side to side taking in all of the sights and sounds like a sponge soaking up water.
     I look at this as my first Christmas as a Grandpa.  Needless to say it was also Linda's first as Grandma.  I was hoping for more excitement from MJ but I realize that she is only one year and ten days old, still she adds a whole new dimension to getting old.  This was a great Christmas and they will only get better from here.
     Did I mention I am a proud Grandpa ?



     It takes me days and sometimes weeks to write a story to post.  Grandpa's First Christmas took only six days before I could turn it over to Linda ( my editor ).  New Years Eve was yesterday.  Another first for Grandpa so why not write about it also.

     Danny and Marie were given tickets to the Chick-Fil-A Bowl football game on New Years Eve and asked if Linda and I would babysit MJ.  What a silly question to ask.
     We got to the kids house about 5:30. MJ was there waiting in the den for her Grandpa to pick her up and give her kisses on one cheek while Grandma was kissing the other cheek.  She giggled and laughed and squirmed in my arms.  Marie proceeded to tell us what MJ had eaten and that she would be good until bedtime about 8 or 8:30. From the list of food she consumed one would think she would be set till lunch the next day.
     I held her while Mommy and Dad kissed her goodbye and left for the game.  Marie was worried that this would be the first time that neither her or Danny would be putting MJ to bed but there was nothing to worry about - Grandpa and Grandma had their back.
     I laid MJ on the couch next to Linda and the both of us proceeded to play with her and watch her play by herself.  To us she seems to be getting taller every time we see her.  According to a doctors visit the day before she now weighs 18.2 pounds.  I think she is going to be taller than her Mom.
     About six o'clock I drove to Wendy's and brought back dinner for Linda and I and as I spread out my burger and fries on the coffee table guess who climbs up next to me. You know kids love french fries. MJ may only have four teeth but she had no problem chomping on those fries as fast as I could give them to her - so much for not being hungry till bedtime.
      We watched Ice Age - Dawn of the Dinosaurs on TV.  MJ sat tucked in next to me and watched the movie with interest. She has to cutest way of laying one foot atop the other and occasionally wringing her hands like she might have been holding worry beads. When the movie was over I put in Monster's University which she started watching but slid off the couch and started to play with toys and Grandma.  Around 8:00 it was time to change the diaper and feed her a bottle.  The movie was still going and she watched as she wolfed down about 7 oz. of milk then it was play time again.  About 8:30 she made a grab for the rest of her bottle and let me hold her while she drank, then it was bed time.
     Now according to Danny and Marie bedtime was simple and easy just carry MJ up stairs, read her a bedtime story, put her in her crib with some stuffed animals, turn out the light and walk away.  She will cry for a few minutes and then fall asleep.  It all sounded easy - no problem,  I can handle it.
      I climbed the stairs with MJ in my arms and went to her bedroom.  I found a book and with her sitting on my lap I proceeded to read about a little boy whose mother let a friend come over to play with him and how much fun they had climbing trees and playing hide and seek.  After the story I put MJ in her bed and started to walk away as she cried deep heart breaking sobs.  Now I can say as a parent I remember walking away from a crying baby at bedtime but that was a long time ago and now I am the Grandpa.  MJ is not going to cry herself to sleep while I am around.  To curb your fears, I do not think this is spoiling MJ.
     I picked her up and held her in my arms as she laid her head on my shoulder the sobs and tears slowly turning to the even breathing of contentment.  I rubbed her back and hummed a tune as she went limp in my arms.  I walked over to the bed and laid her down, pulling a blanket over her but then she sat up again crying those heart wrenching sobs as she rubbed her eyes.  Grandpa picked her up again and held her close whispering in her ear that everything will be alright and soon her head rested on my shoulder and I could feel her breathing return to normal.  After a couple of minutes I again lowered her into her bed only to watch her sit up and start to cry.
     This time as I picked her up I stepped over to the rocking chair and sat down holding her to my shoulder.  I rocked back and forth as she calmed down and sighed.  This time I held her longer and rocked until there was no doubt she was asleep.  When I lowered her into the crib and covered her with a blanket she stretched out and sighed but she didn't cry though I was sort of hoping she would.  I could have held her in my arms and rocked her all night.
     I went back down stairs and Linda and I talked and watched episodes of the 1960's Twilight Zone until Linda fell asleep on the couch.  Even though the kids had a baby monitor I still made several trips upstairs to check on MJ listen to her breathing and adjust the blanket.
     Another day of memories ends.
     Did I mention how proud I am to be a Grandpa ?
    

A Day of Thanks

                     A Day of Thanks


     Another Thanksgiving Day is about over - the dishes are washing, the leftovers are stored in containers ready to be consumed again and again. The house is quiet as the kids have gone back to their homes, the sky darkens as the sun settles low in the western sky.   Linda and I now have a new group of memories stored away, ready to be cherished on a moments notice.
     Thinking back this must be how it was all those years ago when I was a kid. The family gathering was always looked upon with an air of excitement, at least for us kids.  Getting everyone dressed in our finery, preparing the covered dishes for transport and then the long drive to Grandpa's house.  The first stop was Grandpa Riggan then later in the day to Grandpa Wade.
     The earlier years were great in that we kids looked forward with great anticipation to seeing cousins, aunts and uncles. We could run around screaming and yelling like little banshee's and all the threats of getting a whipping if we didn't calm down were ignored.
     At Grandpa Riggan's the food was cooked in iron skillets on a wood burning stove.  The biscuits were kneaded and rolled out by hand then placed in a windowless oven, a glance at the clock on the wall sufficed as a timer.  I can't remember that we had turkey every year, most likely it was a couple of chickens from Granny's flock, breaded and pan fried in lard. There were casseroles of all kinds, homemade stuffing and gravy followed by apple and pecan pie.   Even a picky eater like me found enough to eat that my belly would bulge to bursting.
     During the preparations the women folk converged on the kitchen area reminiscing old times and gossiping about the new. The men gathered on the front porch or in front of the fireplace if the weather was cold.  They talked of friends they had seen lately, the political climate as they saw it and occasionally swatted a kid on the butt for being to rowdy. Grandpa being hard of hearing would sit and puff on his corn cob pipe, every now and then he would join in the conversation but generally he was a man of few words.
     Later in the afternoon we loaded up and like the song says we went over the river and thru the woods to Grandpa Wade's house. By the time we got there dinner was over only leftovers sitting on the table, covered with napkins and dishcloths, remained. With our belly's still bulging we managed to find room for more, nobody went to Granny Wade's house and not eat.  Grandpa and Uncles Harold, AJ and Paul would be watching a ball game of some kind on TV or at least be talking about sports. Some time as the day wore on you could find Grandpa sitting in that big oak rocker of his with his eyes closed.  All of the commotion around him failed to wake him but change the channel from the ball game and he came alive.  The kitchen and dinning room was alive with the laughter of Granny and her daughters.
     Since Linda and I have been married most of our Thanksgiving Days have been spent with just us and the kids and sometimes friends.  Each providing it's own set of memories.  Today was not much different than others of the past.  Clay and Maggie were here as were Danny, Marie and MJ. Linda says it is strange to say Uncle Clay after all of these years of simply calling him Clay.  She may be on to something, but when I put MJ in his arms he reminds me of my brother Clint and how much alike they are.  In that respect Uncle fits him just fine.
     We spent the afternoon talking of all kinds of things, the past, the future, how's the job going, how quickly MJ is growing. We gathered at the table to eat and continue the conversation. MJ was in her highchair being fed bits of chicken by her Dad.  She quickly became the object of our attention as she would hand feed some of her food to Lizzy, the dog, though some of the food was only licked by Lizzy and quickly pulled away to be stuffed into MJ's mouth, MJ thought it was great fun. Once it was determined that MJ was not interested in chicken or mashed potatoes her Dad warmed a bottle of milk.
     Grandma does a great job of spoon-feeding MJ but I like to feed her the bottle.  That way I get to hold her.  After her bottle we had to show Dad MJ's new thing she learned.  I have taught her what is inside the cookie jar and when I lean in with her in my arms she reaches out and grabs a cookie.  Well today she got those tiny fingers around two chocolate chip cookies.  I sat down at the table with MJ on my leg and we all watched as she put the cookie into her mouth and was able to get her two teeth to break off a piece.  If I opened my mouth she would thrust her cookie filled hand towards my mouth but all I got was a finger covered in slobber and wet cookie crumbs.   Even so, it was delicious and MJ thought it was funny.
     After the cookie it was nap time and like any little one she sometimes puts up a little fuss but Grandpa has the distinction of being the only one to get her down for her nap.  I hold her against my shoulder and sway from side to side humming off key some melody of which the words escape me and it is not long till she goes limp and I lay her on the couch.  I'm not what you would call a religious person but if ever angels do come down to earth they must do so in the form of a sleeping baby.
     I am thankful for my brothers and sister, without them my memories would be less enjoyable.  I am thankful for my sons and their families for they have made me proud.  I am thankful for my life with Linda, without her life would have no meaning . This was MJ's first Thanksgiving and mine as a Grandpa  and I am thankful to have her in my life.  At eleven months old she probably won't remember a thing about this day but I will hold these memories into eternity.
    
     
    
    

To Hell In A Basket

                                          To Hell In A Basket






     I remember when I was a kid that the adults would claim this new generation was going to the dogs, or Hell in a basket, whichever comes first.  They were always talking about the way things were when they were growing up and this new generation had no idea how good a life they had.  They all had to walk four miles to school in the snow and the only thing to eat was vegetables and they were darned glad to get them.  I guess their longing for simpler times were no different than those of earlier generations or of the generations yet to come.
     It was hard for me to understand how Mom and Dad could have grown up in a time where there was no TV, Old Hickory Lake or color movies in the theaters. The major form of family entertainment was listening to serial broadcast programs on the radio.  Shows like The Shadow, Amos and Andy, Superman and Buck Rogers kept many people huddled around the radio for hours each week.  Opera was a staple form of music at this time.  Listening to Kate Smith belt out " When the Moon Comes Over The Mountain " was a family affair although to hear her sing her signature song " God Bless America " was truly amazing. When I was a child in the fifties we watched  The Adventures of Superman every afternoon and Buck Rogers on Saturday mornings on our black and white TV and, yes, we had to put up with the Kate Smith Hour before we could watch Superman. We understood the meaning of "waiting for the fat lady to sing".
     I can't attest to those who came before me but my generation had a good life growing up.  We were on the cutting edge of invention and innovation but as I look back I can understand the sentiment of the older generation.  I remember going to bed and not worrying about the doors being locked or letting the kids play outside and out of sight without fear of  abduction. There seemed to be less crime or maybe there was less crime per capita ( there were far fewer people then ) .
      I remember when five cents bought a candy bar that was twice the size of those on sale today and the store owner who sold the merchandise knew you by name because he was friends with your family or went to the same church or was even a relation. There was a time when there were Five and Dime Stores where most of the merchandise could be bought for five or ten cents,  As prices went up the Five and Dime Store was replaced by Variety Stores ( same merchandise just higher priced ) . Then as the prices climbed higher still the Variety Store was then replaced by larger stores with names like Woolworth's, Zayre's and K-Mart. The 1960's ushered in the era of the corporate giants and the Mom and Pop businesses couldn't compete with them.
     One way us kids could earn money was to collect soda / coke bottles and redeem them at the local grocery store for three cents apiece.  Even one soda bottle would buy three pieces of bubble gum.  Now all of the soda containers are made of disposable plastic that though it can be recycled usually winds up on the side of the road with other trash.  Don't get me wrong, we collected the soda bottles from the side of the road - not much has changed in that respect. The bottles put out by the Coca Cola bottling company were made in different cities around the country and the cities name would be embossed in the bottom of the bottle.  While we were collecting them we would sometimes play a game to see who had found the bottle made in a city farthest away from Nashville, Tn.  Dad and some of the guys he worked with would place bets on who could pull a bottle from the case that was farther way than the next guy.  Bets would range from twenty-five cents to a dollar depending on how close it was to payday.
     Deals were made on a handshake or a promise.  Your word was your bond and when you hired on with a company you most likely worked with them for life. There were no prenuptials to be signed before getting married and divorce was not only hard to get but most people seemed to want to work things out and stay married.
     Every house had an outside TV antenna attached to the roof in order to receive a signal for only three channels.  The channels did not start to broadcast until 6:00 am and went off the air at midnight. If you lost the picture you didn't call a technician you went outside and adjusted the antenna.  People with means installed electric motors to the antennas so that adjustments could be made remotely from inside the house. You were lucky to pickup a ballgame on Sunday afternoon and most all programs were live broadcast which made for some interesting moments.
     Morals were different then.  In the movies or on TV the adult bedroom was always shown with a married couple sleeping in separate beds. And it was the only place in the world where a woman was nine months pregnant but still had the waistline of a teenager.  Cursing was a no - no and sexual innuendoes took a far stretch of the imagination.  Movies and TV today are quite different.  There are some three hundred channels available and no subject matter (complete with visuals) is taboo.  It is commonplace to see men and women walking around in their underwear during commercial breaks. If the TV doesn't excite you there is always the internet, imagination is not required for either.  Don't worry about having to sit around waiting for the phone to ring - now days you carry the phone every where. You can talk, text, e-mail, post to Facebook, buy and sell,  all from the phone.  You can perform all of these task while walking, talking, driving, eating, drinking, watching a movie or soaking in a hot tub.  All of this technical multi tasking has even developed a new language  " BFF, BF, BC, B4, LOL " and more that I don't understand.  I call this new universal language "Abbreviated".
     I could go on and on about the differences.  The truth of the matter is that each generation has things better than the generation before them and for good reason.  All of the parents I know want their kids to grow up and have a better life than what they did.  In his own way my Dad wanted me to be better off than he had been - he didn't want me going in circles on life's merry-go-round.  Well,  I did manage to jump off before the ride was over but I failed to grab the brass ring because I had to do things my way.  Guess Mom was right, I do have a stubborn streak in me.
     Now the tide has turned and I am looking at my sons and wanting only the best for them and their loved ones but like the generations before me all I can do is watch and hope. The world in general is a topsy-turvy place with turmoil world wide.   Every country seems to have money problems and societies are having issues of trust in their political and religious leaders.
     Technology is running at a pace so fast that keeping up is a monumental task. Just the other night I was watching a program on the Science channel where a scientist is plotting the circuitry of the brain and another has developed a chip that can be wired into the brain and it will enhance the brains ability to perform thereby making mankind smarter.  It already is being tested on rats.  Just imagine a class room full of highly intelligent kids with a yearning for knowledge and a mind capable of absorbing all that comes their way.  No more mental illness or learning disabilities.
     Loose an arm?, well science is very close to attaching a prosthetic arm and hand that works via the thought process the original hand used, want to give someone the fickled finger of faith? all you have to do is think and the arm rises to the occasion with a finger appropriately extended.  Seriously, scientist are not only extending a person's life they are going to make him smarter and when the body does deteriorate they are also working on providing a new robotic body into which they can simply transplant your brain  or brain waves into a robotic body that appears real.
     Many years ago I saw an episode of Rod Serling's Twilight Zone where an old couple in the winter of their lives went to an outlet store and picked out new youthful bodies and thru a simple process they could become young again.  Sadly,  there was a cost associated with the quest for youth and the couple could not afford the transformation for both of them.  They decided to stay as they were and live out their time together as the people they had become. While it boggles my mind to believe that such a future may exist I feel that it must come to reality and mankind will explore stars looking for intelligent life and worlds such as our own.  We will need the intelligent people " to go boldly where no man has gone before ".
     I don't think this new generation is going to the dogs or Hell in a basket any more than previous generations did but the technical advances made and being made put them on a path of discovery and exploration the likes of which has only been imagined.  On the one hand I am excited for them, on the other hand the speed at which the future approaches is frightening and I am afraid that mankind will forget to "stop and smell the roses" .
      In reality, is my generation any better than that of my parents or, for that matter, will my sons and their children have a better life than me?  I think the answer is yes but if they do go to Hell in a basket it will be the most technically advanced baskets you have ever seen.

The List

                   


                             The List





     I love movies, always have since I saw my first one at a drive-in when I was a young lad.  I can't remember what I saw but I do remember Mom getting Dad to take us somewhere, he tried to talk us into going to a fight but we wouldn't have it. All of this happened when it was just me and brother Pat.  Brother Clint may have been in the making but it was definitely prior to having a TV in the house and it was a "Drive - in" movie.
     The old black and white movies of the 30's & 40's still intrigue me.  If they weren't engulfing me in a fantasy world of suspense or comedy then it was the excitement of a story of WWII or some cowboy saving the day and winning the heart of a lady. You always knew who the good guys were and it was a foregone conclusion that the good would overcome evil.  There were the late night "Million Dollar Movies" on Friday night and the serial westerns on Saturday morning.  When I got old enough there was an occasional trip to the Donelson Theater for a Saturday matinee.  It was there I saw my first science fiction movie about giant scorpions - scared the hell out of me for weeks.
     I personally have a nice collection of VCR and DVD movies from just about all eras and encompassing some of the biggest Hollywood stars of their day - Clark Gable,  Errol Flynn, Humphrey Bogart, Van Johnson, Rock Hudson, Charlton Heston and of course John, "The Duke", Wayne.  When Little Sister comes for a visit we watch movies till we fall asleep.  I can and quite often do watch  movies over and over.  I can't tell you how many times Linda and I have watched "In Harms Way" with John Wayne and Patricia Neal or "The Caine Mutiny" with Humphrey Bogart.
     My movie interest vary from musicals to westerns, comedies to war and adventure to suspense (horror is just not my thing).   Some movies grab my attention more than others and make me want to watch them more often. There are many reasons why I watch a movie multiple times, it is the leading actor or actress or the theme or the subject matter.  Dad would watch anything starring John Wayne and I also rank him pretty high.  One of his favorites was "Mr. Roberts".  As I aged,  my movie interest gradually moved to those dealing with subjects that held true to events that actually took place or themes that relate to real life.
     A few nights ago after Linda had gone to bed I ran across such a movie.  I had only seen it twice before but the subject hits close to home and the actors portrayed their parts beautifully.  The Bucket List, starring Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman, is one of those movies that has climbed high on my watch list.  The movie is about two old men who share a hospital room as they endure therapy for what turns out to be terminal illnesses.  Morgan Freeman's character writes out a list of things he would like to do before he kicks the bucket, Jack Nicholson's character picks up on the idea.  With some reservation and much thought they go off together to complete the "Bucket List".
      As I said, this hits close to home as I am now a senior, but don't go getting excited, I don't have any terminal disease and I am not planning on kicking the bucket any time soon, at least not today. Personally,  I would like for MJ to be old enough to remember she had a Grandfather before I go, another 15 yrs. would be soon enough. A "Bucket List" is a list of items that a person wants to do before they die.  Remember all of those dreams starting way back when you were a kid that you said, "one day I'm gonna ---" or the plans you and your wife made about your future when dating?  In general, all of those things that you dreamed of doing as soon as you could find the time to do them would go on your bucket list. This brings to mind part of a quote having to do with "best laid plans of mice and men ".
     The thought raced thru my head, have I experienced everything I wanted to do, is there more yet to come, or is there nothing in my future to spark the imagination and stir the fires of desire for more. Suppose for a moment that my life to date is yet unfulfilled - what might my bucket list include?
     
     1.  Ride on a fire truck - I seem to remember doing that when I was a Cub Scout.
     2.  Climb a tall mountain - not that I am afraid of heights but I would rather stand back and admire the beauty.  I can tell you that Mt. Hood in Oregon is magnificent with the light of a full moon reflecting off it's snow capped peak while one lone cloud dissects it's mass.
     3.  Drive a fast car - did that.  I once owned a 1969 GTO and I used to have a heavy foot.  Even had the speeding tickets to prove it.
     4.  Catch a big Bass - I'm working on this one.  So far I'm up to about 6 1/2 lbs. if Linda's brother-in-law guessed the weight correctly.
     5.  I have been swimming in four different oceans/seas - So. China Sea,  Pacific Ocean,  Atlantic Ocean and Gulf of Mexico.
     6.  I have traveled halfway around the world and visited seven nations/countries - Philippines, Vietnam, Taiwan, Hong Kong,  Japan,  Okinawa, and Canada.
     7.  My work took me into all but five of the fifty states.
     8.  I have been fishing in Alaska.
     9.  I have laid under the stars in the High Sierra Mtns. of California with my son and counted shooting stars.
     10.  I grew up in the best of times and have been witness to some of the most dramatic events of history.
     11.  I fell in love with and married the most beautiful girl in the world.  She still walks beside me and lets me hold her hand.
     12.  I have held in my arms the most beautiful babies - my two sons and lately my granddaughter. With any luck I may yet get to hold a couple more grandchildren - get to work boys!
     13.  Go to Disney Land - did that and Disney World too.
     14.  Go sky diving - I have no desire to jump out of a perfectly good airplane.  Contrary to what I have heard about sky diving,  planes, any plane that flies is a good plane.

    I'm sure that if I think long and hard I could come up with a really good list of things I want to do before moving on.  Most I'm sure I couldn't do because I'm no longer as good as I used to be.  Seems  like there is never enough time or money or maybe the realization that it probably could never happen anyway would just move those items to the far back burner and the flame would flicker and die out.  With the mellowing of my youthful priorities,  what was once a wish upon a star has become a lesson in reality, or as Linda recently said,  "life got in the way".  It is probably a matter of perception on my part but my youthful expectations may have been set too low although coming from an era where people lived their entire lives within fifty miles of their birth place,  I have gone far.  I'm not going down in history books and my fifteen minutes of fame were more likely fifteen seconds but when all is said and done I'm happy with my life. I took what came my way and did the best I knew how - guess that makes me a common man and I see nothing wrong with that.
     Having said all of that is there nothing left to keep the flame alive to make me look forward to tomorrow?  The answer is yes - though not what you may think.   Nothing too exciting or thrilling.

     1.  I want to celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary with Linda (only four more to go sweetheart, then we talk about options for the 55th,  60th,  etc.).
     2.  I want to see the smile on MJ's face on Christmas morning and watch her blow out the candles on as many birthday cakes as I can.
     3.  How about catching a lot more fish?
     4.  I want to hold Linda's hand and walk down a deserted beach at sunrise.
     5.  I want to make memories that will put a smile on someone's face as they stare into the night sky or watch the flickering flames of a warm fire.

      It is not a big list but each item has meaning for me and there is hope that each can be accomplished.
     I have reached an age where my priorities have shifted.   I no longer worry about tomorrow as I have little control of the outcome.  What I can do is enjoy the day and hope that my deeds are good enough that some day someone will be reading this and the other postings of this blog and a smile will cross their lips or a tear will slide down their cheek.   If so,  my "Bucket List" will be complete.

.    
    

Sleepless Nights

                        Sleepless Nights




     Sleep has always been something that I could take or leave.  I have gone 24 hrs without sleep then get a good 8 hrs worth and be fine.  I couldn't tell you how much sleep I have lost over the years.  I think that as a youngster I didn't sleep as much because I thought I might miss out on something.   Now that I am a senior citizen I wonder whether or not I will wake up so I wake up every few hours just to check that body parts still work and feel right.  Last night was one of those nights that I couldn't get my brain to settle down.  It wondered all around with thoughts of the past, present and future.
     Weird images kept floating around, for instance I could see Grandpa Riggan leaning against the house wall on the front porch in a ladder-back chair.  He had on his bib overalls, his Bible in one hand and a corncob pipe in the other.  Smoke rose from the pipe as he silently read passages. Smoking a pipe was probably his only vice and I doubt that he had but the one pipe.  He kept a small cloth bag of tobacco in the bib pouch of his overalls, the bag had a yellow pull string that cinched it closed.  Sometimes he had a can of " Prince Albert " tobacco in the bib and when it or the bag was empty I would get them to put things in them like marbles or small toys.  There was nothing special about his tobacco it smelled like tobacco, looked like tobacco and when burned smelled like burned tobacco.
     Grandpa Wade was a pipe and cigar man.  He carried his cigars in his shirt pocket and pipe tobacco in a zippered leather pouch.  His cigars were usually stuck in the corner of his mouth with great plumes of smoke rising into the air but when he would get involved in talking the cigar would go out and it would then become something he would chew on or hold between his fingers and use as a pointer when highlighting a part of the story he was telling.  Granny saved the cigar boxes for us kids and they became the containers of our most prized possessions.  He had pipes of all kinds all over the house and cans of sweet smelling pipe tobacco on the coffee table.  Sometimes Grandpa would bite off a big plug of chewing tobacco, his car carried the signs of his chewing as when he worked up a lot of juice he would roll down the window and spit.  There was a long stream of dried tobacco juice down the side of the car looking like a pinstripe accenting the paint job or covering the dings created by whacking his pipe against the car to remove the ashes.
     As a young boy I stood in awe of my Grandfathers though they were opposites of each other in many ways.  One was large, loud, and full of life.   The other was thin, quiet, and very laid back with skin the color and texture of leather brought on by hard work in the fields.
     Now the brain moved in another direction recalling an item on the news about a ball player signing a contract for millions of dollars to play a game.  I remembered, when working for a bank years ago, the higher ups decided to look at customers as Millionaires regardless of their current income because during a person's lifetime they would make a million dollars.  This was hard to imagine when I was getting paid $12,000.00 per year to recover money they loaned to people who wouldn't pay it back, maybe they were including the salary Linda was making at the bank down the street.  In the seventies you talked of rich people as "Millionaires".  To even know of a millionaire was put you in high circles of society and now to be a millionaire is only a step above middle class. Multi millionaire is the new status and that is tens of millions.
     I remember five cent candy bars, fifty cent haircuts and no minimum wage, doctors who made house calls, and gasoline for fifteen cents a gallon and the guy who pumped it would give you "Green Stamps" to be redeemed for things.  Nowadays that candy bar cost at least a dollar, haircuts are $15 except for us seniors who can get one for $9.99 on seniors day. Doctor appointments are scheduled months ahead of time and if you get sick without an appointment it will cost extra because it is now an emergency, there is much value in planning ahead.  Gas prices fluctuate from $3.25 to $4.00 you have to pump it yourself and no green stamps.  The oil companies flagrantly flaunt their billions of dollars in profits and claim the high cost of gas is due civil unrest in some faraway country that has no oil reserves or a hurricane may move towards a coastal area of the U.S.
    Another shift in the brain waves.
    Everything is not learned in school.  Some things you pick up by experience or listening and watching others.  I learned that if you walk barefoot thru a yard covered in clover you run a high risk of being stung by a bee when you step on him.  I remember Dad trying to teach me how to tie my shoes - he made a loop from one shoestring and called it a tree then he took the other shoestring which he called the rabbit and as he wrapped the rabbit around the tree he said, "now watch the rabbit run around the tree and jump into the hole".  It wasn't too much of a stretch for the imagination and it worked.
     Switching tracks again.
     Getting older means you have been around for awhile therefore you have been thru many changes of society.  I have come to the conclusion that society has not changed all that much through out history.  I mean even in the middle ages there were the upper class, middle class and the lower class. We still have the same thing today we just call them the rich, middle class and the poor, the only difference today is that there are more people.  There have always been murderers and thieves and horrific crimes perpetrated on society only now there is a larger society.
     I don't remember having restless nights as I grew up.  I guess that is what is called the sleep of the innocent.  More likely it was because I hadn't lived long enough to have that many things that weighed on my mind - much less to remember.  It is hard knowing what the past holds and wondering how much, if any, will effect the future.  Maybe some day society will take the path less traveled - until then older people will have sleepless nights remembering the way things were and wondering how they got  to be the way they are.
     Where is Tinkerbell with the Fairy dust when you need her?