For years Halloween has been a holiday to endure and not necessarily enjoy. You have to cash in a CD to have enough money for candy and the whole night is spent getting up and down to answer the door. Before we had the ability to freeze the screen it was impossible to watch any TV that night. When I was a kid Halloween was thrilling because of all the preparation and expectation....or maybe it was because it signaled the upcoming holidays of Thanksgiving and Christmas. I didn't try to analyze it. I simply prepared myself, my costume, and my extra heavy duty bag for collecting candy from the neighbors. Call me weird but my favorite candy was the peanut butter flavored taffy wrapped in orange or black paper. Good times.
My daughter-in-law, Cayce, asked Debbie and I the other day if we could remember our favorite Halloween night. I had a hard time thinking of one but finally remembered. I was on the edge of proclaiming myself too old to Trick or Treat. It would be my last year because I lived with the fear of embarrassing myself while running into the love of my life. I won't mention her name because she might possibly read this and I would be embarrassed again.
I decided to make the most of this Halloween night. I dressed up in my black cape with top hat (I was into old movies set in London) and I hoped the weather would hold off for a few hours. A cold front with rain was headed our way and I didn't want my cardboard top hat to turn into mush (I never told anyone but I loved that top hat). I also decided for the first time ever that if I came to a house with no treat I would leave a trick. I looked all over for a piece of chalk or a used piece of soap to create havoc. I could never get away with taking eggs or toilet paper. Yes, my mom did keep count of them! I finally found a piece of purple crayon so I was armed.
I stepped out of the house to start my culinary collection finally. My parents made us WAIT UNTIL IT WAS DARK to start Trick or Treating. The oncoming front had pushed in a thick blanket of fog. My dream of stalking the streets of London were complete. My sisters and brother met up with Sharon and Kelly, other neighborhood kids whose faces are in my memory but unfortunately the names are not. We hit the first three houses next to ours with huge success. The fourth house was dark and quiet. I boldly walked to the door anyway, rang the bell, knocked....yelled "Trick or Treat" in a threatening way and nothing happened. That's when I did it. I broke the law for the first time in my short and innocent life. I pulled out my purple crayon and DESTROYED the front door! BRUHAHAHAA!!! Actually, I only had the nerve to put a small mark on the door bell but it felt good...REAL good!
The next house we visited was answered by a wide-eyed foreign man. He looked at our costumes and said, "Hello?" We all yelled "trick or treat". He didn't move. He stared at us for a moment longer before asking, "So, vat is dis trick or treat you speak of?" I explained the whole tradition of hand it over or suffer the consequences, thinking the whole time this guy must be kidding. He wasn't kidding.....he threw his hands in the air and ran off yelling for his wife to find some treats quick!! He and his wife came running back carrying some apples and bananas asking if that was okay. We thanked him and turned to leave. I turned back around and warned him that about two hundred more kids would be ringing his door bell before the night was over. I don't know how they handled that.
The next morning I was so filled with guilt I walked back up the street and cleaned the purple mark off the offending neighbor's door bell.
Tuesday, October 31, 2017
Wednesday, October 25, 2017
This exercise thing is working....
Oh sure, I don't work out for very long but I'm going three times a week and I must say I am looking pretty good for an old man who has never exercised in his life. Seriously, I never took a PE class until I was a freshman in college. I was in the band and the school administration knew band guys got enough harassment without PE. This is why on the very first day of PE in college the coach told us to hit the track and show him how fast we could complete the mile. I was so proud to be the first to finish. I strutted up to the coach and asked him what he wanted me to do next. He told me he would like for me to run the extra three laps to make a full mile.
Anyway, I'm now making up for the years spent thinking I was in good shape. An oval is a shape but I don't want to be that shape anymore. I have some upper body strength and it feels good to pick up my little granddaughter Claire without having to sit for five minutes. I've also toned up the muscles in my mid-section. Now I can bend over and tie my shoes without passing out......now I can SEE my shoes. I'm not saying I am where I want to be but I'm on the right road and as long as my old pal Charley keeps going with me I think I can stick to it.
Charley doesn't need to work out. He's at least a hundred...no wait, he's seventy-one and he doesn't carry an ounce of body fat. He is retired from American Airlines. We retired the same year. My hobby has been sitting in a quiet, still position and pondering life. Charley's hobby is cutting down trees and splitting the wood. We're a lot alike that way. Charley goes to work out with me for two reasons. First, I asked him if he would because I needed the encouragement to keep going. Second, Charley doesn't want to get old. Bad news Charley, we don't go to the Senior Center because of the location.
We each have our own workout routine. Mine is different than his because I can't use any of the equipment requiring pressure on my leg. I ride the bike for half an hour and then go through the upper body sets. Charley looks at the bike for about fifteen seconds and then hits all the weight sets. As a result I'm usually finished before him. I go down the hall for a cup of coffee and wait. After a few minutes Charley wanders in and pours a cup of coffee along with three or four donuts.
Charley is married to a beautiful, sweet lady so don't take this the wrong way. The first time we went to the center we were drinking coffee and watching members walk the track. (Four laps is a mile, you know!) Charley said, "You know, if you were a single guy this would be a great place to meet girls." I decided right then that old Charley is older than he thinks.
Anyway, I'm now making up for the years spent thinking I was in good shape. An oval is a shape but I don't want to be that shape anymore. I have some upper body strength and it feels good to pick up my little granddaughter Claire without having to sit for five minutes. I've also toned up the muscles in my mid-section. Now I can bend over and tie my shoes without passing out......now I can SEE my shoes. I'm not saying I am where I want to be but I'm on the right road and as long as my old pal Charley keeps going with me I think I can stick to it.
Charley doesn't need to work out. He's at least a hundred...no wait, he's seventy-one and he doesn't carry an ounce of body fat. He is retired from American Airlines. We retired the same year. My hobby has been sitting in a quiet, still position and pondering life. Charley's hobby is cutting down trees and splitting the wood. We're a lot alike that way. Charley goes to work out with me for two reasons. First, I asked him if he would because I needed the encouragement to keep going. Second, Charley doesn't want to get old. Bad news Charley, we don't go to the Senior Center because of the location.
We each have our own workout routine. Mine is different than his because I can't use any of the equipment requiring pressure on my leg. I ride the bike for half an hour and then go through the upper body sets. Charley looks at the bike for about fifteen seconds and then hits all the weight sets. As a result I'm usually finished before him. I go down the hall for a cup of coffee and wait. After a few minutes Charley wanders in and pours a cup of coffee along with three or four donuts.
Charley is married to a beautiful, sweet lady so don't take this the wrong way. The first time we went to the center we were drinking coffee and watching members walk the track. (Four laps is a mile, you know!) Charley said, "You know, if you were a single guy this would be a great place to meet girls." I decided right then that old Charley is older than he thinks.
Wednesday, October 4, 2017
Uncle Frog II
When I was seven there was no person on earth cooler than Uncle Frog. He was kind enough to come live with us for a second time and shared the bedroom with Glenn and me. Of course had it not been for that unfortunate loss of his funds at the Jacksboro Highway Bar, Frog probably wouldn't have agreed to move in and entertain us kids when he did.
Frog drove a brand new GMC pickup. Back then no one drove pickups except farmers and construction workers. Frog was no farmer. I still remember that pickup as if he were driving it today. It was gray with white hubcaps. He built a toolbox for it and painted it bright red. Did I not say Uncle Frog was cool?
Frog came home from work every day covered with mud and cement dust. He did come home on time though because my mama insisted on everyone being around the dinner table at the same time. Before dinner Frog would clean up good and replace those dirty work clothes with freshly starched Levi's, white shirt, and pointy-toed cowboy boots. Then we would have dinner. He tried to come to the table once without cleaning up and mama marched him right out of the dining room. Old Frog never crossed my mama without paying dearly for it.
Frog made a promise to mama that he would stay as far away from the Jacksboro Highway Bar as he could while living with us. As far as anyone could tell he stuck to his promise. It was during this time of severe sobriety that Frog got his life together, saved his money, and moved to Irving.
Frog must have saved his money pretty well by sleeping in the bedroom with Glenn and me. The first time he came to visit after moving he was driving a brand new 1957 Cheverolet Bel-Air coupe. It was white on black with a red interior. Life couldn't have been better for old Uncle Frog until the day he met his beautiful German wife, Frieda, years later.
I was happy for Frog but I sure missed him living with us. I did find myself getting in less trouble after Frog moved away but that didn't ease the loneliness. I missed finding quarters on my closet floor that Frog would "drop" for Glenn and me to find. I missed waiting on the porch for Frog to drive up in his gray pickup after work to hear about his day. I missed watching him polish those cowboy boots till I could see my face in them. I missed the water gun fights....in the house! I missed watching him use the cuff of his jeans for an ashtray like a real man would do.....couldn't wait to be old enough to smoke and use my jean cuff as an ashtray.....but mama wouldn't let me. Thinking about it, I still miss all those things. When I was seven and Frog was living in our bedroom it was a good time.
Frog drove a brand new GMC pickup. Back then no one drove pickups except farmers and construction workers. Frog was no farmer. I still remember that pickup as if he were driving it today. It was gray with white hubcaps. He built a toolbox for it and painted it bright red. Did I not say Uncle Frog was cool?
Frog came home from work every day covered with mud and cement dust. He did come home on time though because my mama insisted on everyone being around the dinner table at the same time. Before dinner Frog would clean up good and replace those dirty work clothes with freshly starched Levi's, white shirt, and pointy-toed cowboy boots. Then we would have dinner. He tried to come to the table once without cleaning up and mama marched him right out of the dining room. Old Frog never crossed my mama without paying dearly for it.
Frog made a promise to mama that he would stay as far away from the Jacksboro Highway Bar as he could while living with us. As far as anyone could tell he stuck to his promise. It was during this time of severe sobriety that Frog got his life together, saved his money, and moved to Irving.
Frog must have saved his money pretty well by sleeping in the bedroom with Glenn and me. The first time he came to visit after moving he was driving a brand new 1957 Cheverolet Bel-Air coupe. It was white on black with a red interior. Life couldn't have been better for old Uncle Frog until the day he met his beautiful German wife, Frieda, years later.
I was happy for Frog but I sure missed him living with us. I did find myself getting in less trouble after Frog moved away but that didn't ease the loneliness. I missed finding quarters on my closet floor that Frog would "drop" for Glenn and me to find. I missed waiting on the porch for Frog to drive up in his gray pickup after work to hear about his day. I missed watching him polish those cowboy boots till I could see my face in them. I missed the water gun fights....in the house! I missed watching him use the cuff of his jeans for an ashtray like a real man would do.....couldn't wait to be old enough to smoke and use my jean cuff as an ashtray.....but mama wouldn't let me. Thinking about it, I still miss all those things. When I was seven and Frog was living in our bedroom it was a good time.
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