Quiet

This weeks word, quiet, is a very fitting word to end the holiday season and 2009. Jean and I have really enjoyed all the opportunities of meeting new friends, taking lots of pictures, writing of times past, and eating new dishes prepared by some of the greatest cooks in the world!

We love Paris, Tennessee, and want it to grow and prosper. We want to help in any way we can, but we think January and February must be a time to really quieten ourselves. I have neck problems that have been neglected for way too long, and this winter is the time for correction. Being nine foot tall and bullet proof in my younger days is the main culprit, but being rear ended twice a couple years ago, made my range of motion totally unacceptable.

Neither Jean nor I do doctors, unless we just have to, but I went to a chiropractor Tuesday and Thursday and I left believing I could really be helped. I was told that we are straightening out many years of problems, and results cannot come overnight, but that the pain will go away, and the movement will become much better. I can only bend my neck 15%, up and down, and to the right, and 25% to the left. I have learned to compensate for the motion by turning my whole body, but I have been experiencing a lot of pain recently, and I do not want to spend the rest of my life in constant pain.

We will take this winter to renew, rejuvenate, and to be quiet. We believe it to be necessary, and will continue to help, as we can, but we have decided we won't feel bad when we have to say no. We wish the best for all of our friends, and all the fine folk of Paris and Henry County. May two thousand and ten be the best year ever!!

Hands

My hands are not nearly as important as many others, but still they are very important to me. I think about the piano player, or the person who plays any other instrument. I think about the painter, or the sculptor, or even the photographer, or any other artist. Their hands play such a vital role in the composition of their art. I think about the athlete who performs amazing feats with their hands. I think about the person serving in the United States military. Because of their hands, we have a strong country, today!

This time of year, I have to take special care of my hands. My hands have the tendency to dry out and crack, so I must lotion them several times a day. I also have to sleep with them covered in bag balm every other night. I wear gloves at work, all the day long. A lot of electricians say they cannot work with gloves on. I was very fortunate, over twenty five years ago, to have a job that required the wearing of gloves. I was tasked with terminating little wires in a cabinet, and I learned how to remove the screw from the terminal strip, strip the wire back, crimp on a ring terminal, and terminate the wire, all with gloves on. This has helped more than anything to prevent splinters, scrapes, and abrasions.

We surely do not appreciate all our hands do for us each day. They are worth taking extra special care of, and I am reminded of this on a daily basis when I see someone trying to do something and they can't, because of their hands.

Talent

Talent is something I have never had much of. I could never get the knack for playing music, I never could sing. Sometimes I even have trouble playing the radio. Lately some people have told me I really have a talent for writing these blogs, but I feel I cannot take credit for them. When you are sitting in front of a keyboard and words seem to flow, turning into sentences, then paragraphs, is that really a talent? Maybe so, but it sure doesn't seem like one.

I had a natural talent when I was young. I could catch a baseball. Whether off a bat, or a thrown ball, if it came anywhere near first base, it would be in my glove. At the time it really didn't matter that I could not hit the ball, and that I wasn't very good at throwing the ball. Later it mattered a lot and my talent for catching the ball, wasn't enough.

A few years later I thought I had a talent for riding a motorcycle, then for driving a car, then a van. Once upon a time I thought I might could be a stunt driver, but that was a vocation I never pursued. My talent for driving, and also for catching a ball, has served me well over the years. The hand/eye coordination I still have today can be attributed to both baseball and driving.

It is pretty smooth to go through life untalented. Even smoother is coming out with a talent no one knew you had! I enjoy writing these blogs. I really enjoy it when someone relates to my written word. I still do not consider it a talent, though. Maybe a blessing, maybe a gift, but definitely not a talent.

Bulk

My thoughts on the word bulk include the bulk food aisle at the grocery, and the whole grocery store that has only bulk food items. Paris is not big enough for either, but St. Louis has both! I have only gone up and down the aisles of a bulkfood store once, and only because I had time to kill before an appointment, but I think it is a great idea for a large family struggling with the food budget. Of course, I would imagine comparisons would have to be made, even there.

My experiences at the bulk food aisle of a supermarket include almonds, red hots, and malted milk balls. The almonds were very good. You had to buy way too many red hots. The chocolate on the malted milk balls was not near as good as Whoppers.

Jean and I just do not buy enough of any one thing to justify buying in bulk. My Ma better be glad that when she was hauling me with her to buy groceries, that they had never heard of bulk foods. I bet I could have gotten a big ol' sack of chocolates every week!

Mysterious

While not comprehending the dictionary meaning of the word mysterious completely, I stand in awe of some of the world's mysteries. The definition was 'eluding explanation, while simultaneously arousing inquisitiveness.' I have never seen so many three dollar words put together in one sentence!

I believe the word mysterious needs to be just that, mysterious. Just think how boring this world would be if we knew everything. I like a good challenge every once in a while and definitely do not want to know everything about everything.

I truly believe some things are better off being left mysterious.

Tradition

Jean and I make new traditions every once in a while, like picking blueberries on the fourth of July. With us both having lost our parents, and with us having no children, many would consider our traditions unusual, but we don't. Come Christmas Eve, we were always doing something with my side of the family, but this year will be different. Christmas day was always at Homer and Sue's, Jean's folks, but this year things are different. The traditions that I had, as a young man, have all but vanished, but that is all right.

This year, with almost three weeks off, a new tradition just might begin. We have decided to take the Natchez Trace Parkway from Nashville all the way to its end in Mississippi. There will be so much Americana to take in, on this trip, and other two or three day trips to come, that we feel a new, special event just might be born.

The traditions of shooting fireworks on Christmas Eve, and not being able to go to sleep in anticipation of a visit from St. Nick, have been replaced. We now enjoy eating finger foods and all the baking that the holidays bring. If you see smiles on our faces, you will know it is from all the sights, sounds, and smells, rather than from all the presents we received. As Hank would say:”it's just a family tradition”.

Nap

This week's word is something I have very much experience with. I am a nap taker. As a kid, I never remember being very good at quietening myself, and taking a rest, but when I turned thirty, I discovered naps, and am real glad I did.

What is wonderful about my situation, is that my naps have no effect on me sleeping at night. I can get a good night's sleep, get up in the morning, eat breakfast, open up a newspaper, wake up a coupla' hours later, do a few chores, eat lunch, open up a newspaper, get up after a few hours nap, go out and do a few things, and my night of rest is never affected.

Before he passed, my father-in-law, Homer, used to tell me that I got way too much sleep. I would argue with him that I did not get too much sleep, that I got just the right amount of sleep. I look at it this way, there is a lot of evil in this world, I am off in a major Metropolitan area, with time on my hands. I can spend that time running the streets, taking a chance on getting into trouble, or I can spend that time napping. My choice is napping. I very seldom have nightmares, and often have pretty neat dreams, and they are free!

For many people in the world today, there never seems to be enough hours in the day. Taking a nap is such an unheard of luxury for so many. A rested body and a rejuvenated mind is so much more efficient that a person CAN afford a little downtime, and get just as much done.

Well, I guess I could go on, but, I feel a nap coming on. Maybe my dream will continue!!

Seasons

The word 'seasons' brings back memories that were probably gone forever were it not for these blogs. I have memories of not having anything to do in Paris, but never memories of not enjoying the beautiful, ever changing seasons that Paris and Henry County have always afforded.

From the snowy hillsides and icy roads to the scorching summers and the wonderful Kentucky Lake, to everything coming back alive after a cold winter, to everything showing that death can be a beautiful thing, in the fall, I have seen some changes in Paris. My favorite season used to be fall, but, because of Jean, it is now spring. Back when we were dating, I asked her what her favorite season was, and without any hesitation, she said spring. I asked her why and she said 'rejuvenated life'. Fall is a beautiful season, but is beautiful because everything is dying, spring is beautiful because new life is beginning.

Several years ago I spent fifteen months in Los Angeles, and went through all the seasons. I arrived at the end of January and it was 60 and brown, then spring came and it was 75 and brown, then came summer and it was 85 and brown, then came fall and it was 75 and brown. I have not been there in a long while, so I don't know how it is now, but I did not like it then, and I imagine I would like it less, today.

As a sidebar, this year I witnessed the most beautiful, the greenest, the coolest, the wettest summer, in Paris, that I have ever seen. It was truly an amazing sight to have green all summer.

I think I am fortunate to call Paris home.

Soul

In the mid sixties, when my sister was in high school, I learned the one handed part of Heart and Soul, a three handed piano song. Linda would play the two handed part and I would come in with the one handed part. Still, today, I can play those notes. In the early seventies, the Godfather of Soul, James Brown, was a popular entertainer and I went to one of his concerts, in Memphis. Also, Soul Train, a popular dance show, came on the television. In the early eighties, I became buddies with a black electrician, named Eisenelle, who cooked me my first soul food. Turnip greens, soup beans, hog jowl, and corn bread made for a mighty fine meal for this southern boy gone north. In the very late eighties, I met my soul mate, Jean. At the time, I never thought of her as my soul mate, but that is what she has become, and that is what she will always be. In the mid nineties, Jean met a pipe fitter on her job, from Paris. His nickname was Soul Dog.

The soul, in religion, is the eternal part of a living being.

When I first became serious, thinking about Heaven and Hell, I came upon a Scripture that has meant very much to me over the years. Matthew 16:26 says, “For what is a man profited if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?” God has kept my soul, nourished it, kneaded it, loved it even when I was very unlovable. There is so much that this poor soul lacks in the knowledge of God and His Way, but as I pray, as I read His Word, as I meditate on His Truth, more of His plan is revealed.

I believe that when my time here on this earth is no more, that my soul will spend forever and forever in one of two places. I want to spend eternity, with God, in Heaven, so I need to spend my remaining days securing that goal. Satan is a wily character, and knows just what my weaknesses are, and wants me to spend my eternity with him in eternal damnation. I am very weak, in myself, so the only way to prevent the devil from taking my soul, is to believe in God, and ask for His help. I know that He is on His throne and cares deeply for my soul.

Riches

I have decided that riches, like visions of grandeur, are different for every person. The importance of riches has even evolved, for me, in the last twenty years. No longer am I concerned with having the best, but having a comfortable and safe world for Jean and I. No longer do I have to have the fastest, nor the most, I have learned a secret.....a secret to life itself!

That secret is that God has a plan for my life. Why He ever revealed this to me, I cannot explain, but He has provided me with abundant riches. The richest gift He gave me was the promise that He would never leave me, nor forsake me. Another part of His plan to give me riches, was His promise to never put more on me than I could withstand. Another gift full of riches in His plan was to make me content, in whatever state I am in, but the gift He has given me, that makes me the richest, is His promise of eternal life. That one gift is so full of riches, that any disappointments, that any trials, that any temptations, that any earthly slights, are easy to bear.

A great amount of money, I do not have. The finest home, or the nicest car, or fine jewelry, I have not. I cannot go to the furthest parts of the world on vacation, or buy anything that strikes my fancy, but I feel that I am a man of great riches. Riches that moth and rust cannot corrupt, nor that thieves can enter in and steal, but riches that will stand the test of time, time eternal!

My Maple Tree and Its Visions of Grandeur

When I considered the topic, Visions of Grandeur, my thoughts turned to a maple tree on Dunlap Street in what was once Mr. Clinton Mathew's yard and, more recently, Dr. Frank Sleadd's yard. I grew up with that maple. It was small when I was small and now, like me, it's middle aged.

In the winter, my maple has no leaves. It is naked, right there on one of the busiest streets in town. When the cold wind whips in from the west, I wonder if it would like to be clothed. Soon enough, buttercups sprout, the deer nibble at new buds and my maple tree dons a lovely, lime green dress. Her outfit turns a deeper hue as the weather warms, and although she is no longer naked, she looks pretty much like all of the other trees on Dunlap Street…large and sprawling and green.

I often wonder, "Does she want to stand out? Does she want to make the school children and their parents heading up to Grove and Inman jerk their heads and cry, 'Wow, look at that!' I wonder…does my maple tree have Visions of Grandeur?

Well, she's a tree, so we'll never know what she thinks, but if her desire is to rise above the rest, this is her week, indeed. Today, when I drove down Dunlap toward town, I had to slow to a crawl and take a good long look at her. The gold and orange and touches of red are so brilliant that I couldn’t stop looking. When the sun popped out, lighting her up, I wanted to wrap myself up in her. Her color and warmth were so intense; they seemed to radiate from another dimension.

So if my visions of grandeur have more to do with a fabulous maple tree that, for a week or two, is the most stunning tree in town, then so be it. I have no thoughts of being the president or a wealthy landowner or a CEO…I just want to be within sight of my friend the maple when she gets all gussied up for fall.

Visions of Grandeur

When I was quite a bit younger my visions of grandeur included homes, fast cars, boats, and lots and lots of cash. I didn't have a plan to attain such things. I guess I thought they would just magically appear. Looking back, I sure am glad my “pipe dreams” never came true. The above sentences were all I could come up with, on visions of grandeur, until I asked a guy at work what those words meant to him.

A whole new experience then proceeded to unfold before my eyes. An experience that, to me, provided my best blog, yet! After Greg, from St. Louis, told me his perfect vision of grandeur would be sitting in a boat on a quiet lake, no one around, just fishing and having a solitary fine time, when the symbol of our great nation, the Bald Eagle, came gliding by, the plan was set in motion. I would ask each member of my crew, including the foreman and the bus driver, what their vision of grandeur was.

I asked Jim, from St. Louis, what his vision was and he said it was watching the light go on in his kid's eyes, when they learned something brand new, or finally understood what made something work. Bob, from Miami, said having 150 acres in the middle of the country, with a huge, tricked out garage, where he could work on his cars, trucks, and build new play toys, would be his cat's meow. The bus driver, Denise, told me her vision of grandeur. It would be sitting at the kitchen table with her husband, and their two kids, eating, laughing, and just being a family. Another Greg, from Alton, said his dream was to be as greedy as he could get, and have money, money, and more money. The foreman, Tyrone, used to dream about drawing cartoons and working for Walt Disney. Jeremy's vision of grandeur is owning a house and acreage around Nashville, and owning his own electric business. Brian, from Wisconsin, said his vision of grandeur includes complete happiness in a trouble free world, and Jay, from Louisiana, Missouri, had dreams of being a major league baseball player.

As I thought on what each one had said, I was caused to rethink what my visions of grandeur would be from now on. They would be helping people to learn, they would be taking the time to visit with family, they would be helping the world to be trouble free. My visions of grandeur would include getting away and quietly enjoying God's world. It would be striving to bring more happiness into this world. My visions of grandeur went from the 70's to right now in less than 2 days and I am glad they did!

Tenacity

Defined as persistent determination, tenacity has shown up in my life before. Mainly on jobs where I have had to learn a brand new task. For a construction electrician, ofttimes, being able to perform many job assignments means the difference in getting laid off, or keeping your job. There is a fine line between being labeled as having tenacity, and being labeled a know it all. As I get older, I become better at being diplomatic, hence I get to stay working longer!

As I think about my home town, Paris, I think about the friends I have that have proven their tenacity. Without their persistent determination we would not have the Heritage Center. We would not have the Grove Tower building. We would not be able to enjoy the Lee Academy of the Arts. We would not have the Eiffel Tower. Also, we would not have the Henry County Boxing Club, so the young men who learn how to box in a controlled environment, would be running the streets. We, also, would not be planning the Downtown's first “green” area, where the old TVA office once stood.

Accused of living in the past, these movers and shakers really enhance our community, and I am proud of them. I realize some of these programs cost tax dollars that some are struggling to come up with. My advice to anyone with problems of this nature, is to get behind these projects, having the tenacity to improve both your own bottom line and your community.

Yesterday

Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away. Now it looks as though they're here to stay. Oh, I believe in yesterday.
Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be. There's a shadow hanging over me. Oh, yesterday came suddenly.

The first thought that came to mind, when I heard this week's word, was the classic Beatle song Yesterday. Maybe at this point of my life, some of the lines are not relevant, but still it is a beautiful song, written when more life was ahead than behind. Now, there are more yesterdays than there are tomorrows, and it is time to be settled.

I have sure wasted a lot of yesterdays. I have used a lot of days to their full extent, but I have slept through days, also. Age has a lot to do with it. Aches and pains have a lot to do with it. As I sit here reflecting on the yesterdays of my life, I am a content person. Yes, I could have done a few things better. Yes, I could have done a few things different. But I have decided not to dwell on the things of yesterday. Lately there have been a few accusations, maybe accusations is too harsh, a few intimations that my wife and I and some close friends are living too much in the past. Yesterday was a simpler time, a more honest time, a more benevolent time. Without trying to live in yesterday, I do want to learn from it, and try to put the good lessons to use.

Yesterday was a special time. I hope to live all my days in such a fashion that I am proud of all my yesterdays. Over eighteen years ago my yesterdays took on a different meaning. No longer was I the only one in my yesterdays. It is important, to me, to live my life so all my yesterdays mean a lot to Jean and I.

Mud

This week's word brings back memories of four wheeling in the Land Between the Lakes, and some of the things I put my little Jeep Renegade through. One January the eighth sticks firmly in my mind. I had two flat tires that day. It was about fifteen degrees outside, plenty wet from the creeks we would go through, and very, very windy. Two flats in one day is just plain bad luck...cold temperature, mud, and so much wind just added to the humiliation. It amazes me to this day what a person will go through in the name of fun.

I put plenty of mud on that little jeep, as well as on anything within 25 feet. Me and a buddy, who also had a Renegade, would load up two or three of our friends, apiece, at least twice a week, then see what kind of fun we could have. It kind of boggles the mind when I think back on some of the places we were able to get to. Adversity sure is a good teacher, and I really learned to drive in those days.

Maybe if I hadn't had so much “fun” in my younger days, these middle age days wouldn't be so hard on me. Oh well, I did have a bunch of fun growing up. Any aches and pains I have now, I will just have to live with!! It is not a major accomplishment...not something you would want to list on your resume...but I became an expert at slinging mud and had a good time doing it.

Demolition

This week's word brought back memories of a building imploded and brought down, in Detroit. It was a party atmosphere one Sunday morning on Michigan Avenue in the heart of the city. An old, wore out hulk of a building was standing in the way of progress one minute......it lay in a pile of rubble the next.

We were two blocks away and the demolition of that building went perfect, all the way down to the dust blowing away from all the onlookers. You should have heard the explosions, then the crash, then the cheers. It was a truly amazing feat accomplished in one of our most storied cities. And to watch such an event is an experience you will never forget!

I have often wondered about the ones who set the charges. I do not know this for a fact, but I imagine they were trained by the military. Where else would one learn to blow things up? Maybe there is an International Brotherhood of Demolition Experts, and maybe you have to serve a 5 year apprenticeship, but I haven't heard of it.

This week's word, demolition, brings up different meanings for different people, but it was real good for me to remember that day. Those remembrances brought back other memories of my time in Detroit, good memories of good people and of good times! Makes me want to try and find some of those people. I believe I will.

School Days

Born in Paris and having been educated in Henry County schools, I have thought of many different subjects to write about. I decided, however, to write about memorable teachers I have had.

The very first teacher of note has to be Mrs. Vaughn, my first grade teacher, at Atkins-Porter. She taught me that it was okay to cry when Ma drove away. Being raised in the country, without very many kids to play with, or even to be around very much, it was hard for a 5 year old kid to watch his companion drive away and leave him with a bunch of strangers. Within the week Mrs. Vaughn had me wanting to spend the whole day at school.

Fast forward eight very short years, and Mr. Loudy taught me one of life's greatest lessons: “it is okay to be different.” He showcased that point one day by instructing his class to bring in the lyrics of a song that meant a lot to us. I cannot remember if he read and commented on every song brought in, but he read mine. It was Born to be Wild by Steppenwolf, and Mr. Loudy told me that that song fit me to a T.

My senior year was a very good year for me and I was prepared to meet the real world by a friend/mentor/runnin' buddy, who taught me another of life's lessons. Mr. Maynard taught me that everyone who says he is your friend, is not. He told me of some of the guidelines he used to test true friendship, and I still use them today. Jerry Maynard had a good influence on me, and for that I thank him.

It was good for this week's topic to be 'school days'. It has caused me to think of a very good time in my life, to write about the good times, and to relive, if only in my mind those “Good Old Days!” I am thankful for every teacher who took the time to help me. I know sometimes I am not very teachable and I am very appreciative of the men and women who tried.

Reunion

When I think of the word Reunion, I think of the different guys I have worked around in the almost 35 years I have been an electrician. The reason that thought comes to mind, is that a special group of Wiremen (Union Electricians), throw a party every year that lasts a week. You pay a set fee, this year it was $200.00, and you get three meals a day, all the beverages you could ever want, and the opportunity to see people you have worked with, from all over this country of ours. It is a real family affair, with kids running all over the place. As the roots of the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers run very deep, so do the roots of the IBEW Reunions. Many, many young men and women who used to come to the reunions with their parents, are now wiremen, themselves, and are bringing their kids.

There is something at an IBEW Reunion for everyone. From board games, to field games, to fishing, to golfing, there is no time to be bored. The music is also very good and almost nonstop. Mostly Country with a little old Rock and Roll thrown in. Chances are, you ask a wireman why he doesn't play music all the time, he'll tell you he likes what he does, and wouldn't change a thing.

I miss more reunions than I should. It is a wonderful opportunity to see different parts of this country of ours, while seeing old friends you don't see very often. This year it was 55 short miles from Paris, at Loretta Lynn's Dude Ranch, and there were over 2000 union craftsmen, plus their families, in attendance. A good time was had by all!

Dog Days

I can remember the dog days of August, back when I was a kid. I didn't have any friends that lived close to me, so most of my hot, miserable days were spent playing by myself. I say hot, miserable, but they really weren't. Hot, maybe, but in no way could they be called miserable. I was too busy in my own little world, be it playing in the World Series, pitching for the New York Yankees, or leading a platoon of make believe soldiers into battle in WWII, or traipsing the countryside with my faithful companion, Elvis.

Oh, the peace and tranquillity of those days! I believe that if I could bottle and give away the serenity, the fun, the quietness of those days, this world would be a much better place!

Cotton

I have had more trouble gathering my thoughts on the word cotton than on any word of the week so far. This has caused some research on the topic that has, by its sheer numbers, boggled the mind. 14 million acres of cotton are grown in the United States. Cotton is grown in 17 states from Virginia to California. Cotton creates 340,000 jobs, and generates 60 billion dollars worth of business in the U.S., which is more than any other crop.

In the early sixties, when I can first remember the gin in the bottom, on Washington street, cotton had the nickname white gold. When I read that one five hundred pound bale of cotton could produce 325 pairs of denim jeans, that name became very real.

Jean and I heard that 600 acres of cotton were being grown in the McKenzie portion of Henry County, so that was a good road trip for us Saturday. We saw many, many fields full of cotton, in the blooming stage. Come mid October, we will pick the perfect day to take the perfect picture of the perfect cotton patch. We absolutely cannot wait! We are glad we live in the land of cotton!

Fair

Often, the word fair means equal treatment, but this week in Henry County, fair means livestock show and sales, country ham auctions, beauty reviews, mouth watering dinners, an exciting midway, enticing commercial exhibits, photography and flower contests, demolition derbies, huge money giveaways, awesome music, and the county’s best canners, bakers and quilters -- all at one big event!

Growing up, my sister and I never missed the Henry County Fair. We loved looking at all of the vegetables, the flowers and plants, the canned goods and the Commercial Building booths. Our favorite was always the PI booth where, before the digital age, you could buy black and white photos from the PI files for a dime. Prowling through those pictures, most of which had been in the paper, provided hours of entertainment for lovers of photography and local history.

It seems that most of the pictures we bought were of older folks doing, well, things that older folks do. My favorite is of a gentleman who was probably in his seventies. He’s wearing overalls and holding two beautiful cantaloupes. You can tell from the background that the photo was shot at the PI office. I always envisioned his wife saying, “Honey, these are the biggest, prettiest cantaloupes you’ve ever raised. Let’s ride up town and let them take your picture at the newspaper office.”

The PI booth with boxes of old black and white glossies may be long gone, but there are still lots of great images to enjoy at the photo booth in the Enoch Building. Just like on Snap It! on MyParisMagazine.com, a great variety of photos turn up in the fair’s photo competition. Although none can be purchased for a dime, it’s fun to see what fellow Henry Countians are photographing. Who knows, there may be a picture of an older gentleman in overalls with the biggest, prettiest cantaloupes he’s ever raised.

'Skeeters

I can sure remember having lots of trouble with 'skeeters, while camping, when I was a kid. We would spray on the Off mosquito repellent......but it sure wouldn't seem to help. As a matter of fact, I often wondered if it wasn't sending out the message 'pick me, pick me!' When I got older and more into backpacking, I found a repellent called Cutters that really did the job. Just a drop or two, and the 'skeeters would stay away for hours.

Playing Babe Ruth baseball, was bad until the mosquito truck would come by. Then we would trade the awful bite of a mosquito, for the awful smell of the fogging truck! Maybe I just have not noticed, or maybe the trucks have been deemed environmentally unfriendly, but I haven't seen any in a long while.

The burning repellent offered by the Sky Vue drive in theater was a necessity. The theater was built just north and west of Town Creek, in true bottom land. A quarter sticks in my mind as the cost of the repellent. It came in a foil pouch, was green, and in a spiral shape. You would set it on its stand and light one end, and it was a real deterrent to the 'skeeters who wanted you for their supper!

You know.......the older I get.......the more comfortable my Lazy Boy recliner becomes.......the more I stay in a 72 degree, controlled environment.......the less 'skeeters seem to bother me! I think we will keep it that way.

Cooking

This week's word is near and dear to my heart, or maybe I should say near and dear to my stomach. I enjoy eating a well prepared, well cooked meal. I do like to eat out, but my wife is such a good cook, that come meal time, my feet can usually be found under my own table. The cooking that my wife does can be labeled country cooking, and with fresh fruits and vegetables coming in, the fare has been absolutely scrumptious.

This time of year, many people, Jean included, make a meal out of just vegetables. I like the four or five vegetables, also, but I have to have meat, bread, and dessert. Serve these vegetables along with some oven fried pork chops, home made yeast rolls, and some pound cake with fresh strawberries, and whipping cream, and by golly, you have yourself a feast!

I keep telling Jean that I will trim down and lose some weight. I know I sure need to. I also know that this is not the time of year to even consider such foolishness.

Bon Appetit !!

Obsolescent

The different mediums the music business use seem to become obsolescent faster than in any other industry. From 78 rpm records, to 45 rpm records, to 33 rpm records, to reel to reel tape machines, to 8 track tapes, to cassette tapes, and now, CD's, change is obviously a way of life. The only one of those I am too young to remember is 78 rpm records.

Two types of businesses that I frequented often have become practically obsolescent. The drive in movie theater, and the drive in restaurant. Many, many times I have gotten a burger and fries from the Dairy Kreme, which later became Johnny's Drive In. On a hot summer day, I used to get a frozen Milky Way and a mug of Root Beer from the K & N Drive In. Back in the day, life just didn't get no better! I cannot even guess at the number of times I went to the Sky-Vue Drive In theater. I saw many, many movies there, and ate many, many, bags of popcorn!

I love it when things become obsolete five years after they are the rage...muscle cars, for example. Forty years later, they are making a strong comeback. The new Camaro, Mustang, Challenger, and Charger look pretty neat back on the road. I hate it when key components, that I grew up with, are deemed obsolescent. I learned to drive in 1970. The high beam-low beam dimmer switch was mounted in the floorboard, where it was an easy reach for a foot that had nothing else to do. My first vehicle with the dimmer switch on the blinker lever was a 1988 Ford Bronco. It took a couple of years for my left hand to realize it had a new job, and for my foot to realize its job was taken away.

I read an article just last week that said Crocs were on their way out. Six short years after those shoes were the hit of the party, now they have become obsolescent. They have gone the way of Super Bell Bottom Levis, and Nehru Jackets.

Two items that I used a lot of, in my youth, were merthiolate, and mercurochrome. Now, for first aid, you either use neo-sporin, or poly-sporin. As I think about it, many first aid items, many facets of treatment, and many surgical procedures have become obsolescent.

A lot of things I have used, and a lot of places I have been, are now obsolescent. The good thing is, in most cases, they have been replaced with “new and improved.”

Electricity

This week's word is something we all take for granted. Our forefathers went to bed at dark, had no air conditioning, heated and cooked with a wood stove, and did not have an electric garage door to let their horse and buggy in.

Growing up with luxuries at my fingertips, I do not appreciate what the old timers went through, as I should. I am fifty-three years old and have always been able to reach in the freezer and get an ice cube, made with electricity. I think I was 8 when we got air conditioning. How wonderful it is to sleep cool, make coffee in the mornings, microwave our dinner, heat our bath water, all because of electricity!

Just think of the jobs we have today because of electricity. From the building and operating of powerhouses, to the linemen who string new lines and repair and replace old ones, to the utility companies, to the electricians in the field, who wire everything from homes to airports, to office buildings, to baseball stadiums, to the suppliers of electrical equipment.

I am proud to make my living as an electrician. If I ever get to the point where I take electricity for granted, then it will “get” me. I think being electrocuted would be a lousy way to go. Respect for what current can do to you is a must. Also a must is keeping your mind on the task at hand.

It is amazing to me that something unseen can bring so much goodness to our lives. Thomas Edison deserves our hearty thank you, and I bet even he would be in awe of how electricity has changed our lives.

Skiing

With this year's Fun Run about to happen, my thoughts have drifted to water skiing. I really cannot think of any one activity, well, recreational activity, that has brought more pleasure to me than water skiing.

I bought a run-about in 1977, and a whole new world opened up for me. Smooth water was now what I was in search of. Often, across the river was the only place to find slick water, so that is where we would head. Sometimes, the last hour of daylight, things would quieten down and the lake would get really still. Those were the moments that my buddies and I were in search of.

That little Mark Twain, with me at the helm, pulled an incredible feat one day. We pulled seven slalom skiers up and around the lake! Talk about exciting...other boats stopped and watched. When the guys and gals got back in the boat, everyone was talking nonstop. No one had ever been involved in anything like that, so we were all excited.

I have not owned a boat in over twenty-five years, but I have good memories of the times I had on Kentucky Lake. I bet the Chamber of Commerce's Fun Run will be a blast. I wish I was going to be in town next weekend.

Fourth of July

Thank you, Susan, for thinking of this thread. Maybe others will write of their favorite memories of this very special day.

From the ages of 9 through 12, my July 4th afternoon was spent playing baseball for India, of the Henry County Little League. All four teams would play, and we thought we were really hot stuff because we got to play on the Paris Landing State Park ball diamond. This was before the big swimming pool was built, mostly before automobile air conditioners, and a whole lot of homes had no air. I would have turned nine in 1964, and did not have a care in the world. I handled first base. Very few balls got past me, including the ones thrown at me from all over the infield. I had every little kid's vision of being a major leaguer when I grew up, even if I couldn't hit that little ball. That was one day I got to showcase my baseball prowess, in front of strangers, no less.

Win or lose, we always had a family picnic when the games were over. Included in the day's fare were grilled hot dogs, grilled hamburgers, baked beans, watermelon, and homemade ice cream. My Ma was quite the cook, and her picnics were wonderful. Now, try to put me outside on the Fourth of July, and we are going to have problems.....I cannot remember one cross word, one blown temper, not one ugly word being said. People always say things were simpler back then. We will never see those days again, but we really should learn from them.

Thirty years ago, I was into camping and water skiing. If my friends and I did anything....and there were years where we never ventured out where the amateurs and the tourists were, we would hike back into Land Between the Lakes, camp, and never see a soul. What a good time we would have!

Around 1989, I met my wife, and a new tradition was born! While everyone else is at the lake, or doing some partying elsewhere, Jean and I head for the blueberry patch. We try to pick 5 gallons. That is a lot of berries, but with a bowl of cereal in the mornings, or in blueberry muffins, or in blueberry cobbler, or in blueberry crunch, we find we use a lot of blueberries every year. Also, our tradition helps us to stay out of trouble.

233 years ago the British were fought and beaten on America's soil. The Colonists were able to defeat a much more modern military, because they were willing to stick together, plan together, and fight together. I believe we need that mindset, today! I believe that mindset can be found in Paris, Tennessee.

Happy Fourth of July, everyone!

Riding

The word riding means a lot to me. In the context of ridin' around, it means even more. There was a time, 37 years ago now, when my buddies and I spent a lot of time ridin' the streets of Paris. There have been Saturday nights, that I have burned a tank and a half of gas, and never went anywhere except from the Dairy Queen, to the high school, to Ogburn Park, and back to the Dairy Queen.

I guess every generation has the thought that there is nothing to do in this town. We made our own fun. We would cruise, drink cold beer, and generally have a good time doing it. Sometimes some of my friends would have dates, and couldn't ride around, but it usually wasn't hard to find some one that liked riding in a cool car and drinking ice cold beverages. Looking back, it was a simple time. Nice car, Ma's credit card, a little jingle in the pocket, good friends, I had it made and sure didn't appreciate it!

The kids of today probably would have no fun ridin' around like we used to do. Paris has grown, and has so many people,and so many vehicles, that a youngster couldn't pull some of the foolishness we used to pull. Gas was almost 10 times cheaper. Cold beer might have been a little easier to come by. The police looked the other way, when they could. Young people today get too serious, too quickly. As the world gets smaller, life gets faster. That is a natural progression that, I guess, we must accept.

I am very glad that I came of age in the late sixties and early seventies. I am glad I got to do a little ridin' on the streets of Paris, Tennessee. My buddies and I solved a whole lot of the world's problems on those Saturday nights, and had a lot of fun doin' it.

Dads

With Father's Day right around the corner, I decided my word of the week had to be Dad.

These few paragraphs are dedicated to my Dad, Robert Owens, and his Dad, Raymond Owens. Granddaddy passed away when I was seventeen, so I didn't get to be around him very much. While I was a kid, growing up, I thought he was an “old man”, and wasn't around him near as much as I should have been. From all I can gather, he was a countrified genius. He dabbled in real estate, moved houses, built houses, and made the concrete blocks to build the houses. I guess Granddaddy, and all his sons, and Aunt Rena could have had a construction dynasty, here in Paris, but everyone went their own direction, and maybe we are better off, today, because of it.

My personal recollections of my Granddad include shooting firecrackers at Christmas time and the Fourth of July, playing on his sand mound, fishing in his creek, being at his house when he would return from a fishing trip, with his car just full of Crappie, and following a whole line of cars from Marshall's grocery, out through Death Valley,on down the hill to the Tower Sport's Center, doing all of 10 miles miles per hour.

I sure wish I had “chewed the fat” with him a little more. The lessons I could have learned would have been priceless.

Robert Owens was the smartest man I have ever known in my life. He could do anything, from owning his own electrical business, which electrified many, many, homes and buildings in Paris and Henry County, as well as the surrounding area, to having an acre of garden every year, including every vegetable that anyone in his family could ever want, a grape arbor for homemade jelly and juice, and an apple orchard, to having a regulation Little League baseball field in his backyard. I have yet to figure out how he had the time to raise five kids, be the chairman of the building committee at church, getting all 5 of us ready for church on Sunday morning, helping with all the projects that we, as little kids, took on. He had never ridden a motorcycle in his life, but could fix mine all the time. He used to say he could go to sleep thinking about a problem, and wake up with the solution. He even had a three acre front yard that he mowed every week, and it was smoother than many golf courses.

I feel very fortunate to have not only known Robert Owens, but to have been his son. I was lucky enough, in later life, to visit with him as an equal, although I could have never been his equal. Not as father to son, nor employer to employee, but man to man, each respecting the other. I wish he were alive today, but only if he could be healthy and whole. I watched him go from 210 pounds to 138 pounds when he died. He had heart disease that was taking all his nourishment, just to keep his heart beating. It is very sad to watch a man who has always been so strong, have to give in to something he has no control over.

Every bit of common sense I have, I can thank my Dad for. His way of figuring out how things work, rubbed off. Everyday I do something, sometimes something very insignificant, sometimes something very major, that I can give my Dad credit for. Even some of the book smarts I have today is because he would take the time to explain, in “our” language, what the book was trying to say.

He was a great man. I am glad I told him, before it was too late!
Happy Father's Day, Granddaddy. Wish I had gotten to know you better.
Happy Father's Day, Dad. I Love You and I Miss You!

Nouns and Verbs...PETS

Nouns and Verbs is myparismagazine.com's weekly challenge where we write about what specific words mean to us. Join in the fun via the comment section, telling us how or why these ordinary nouns and verbs are meaningful to you. This week we’re pondering the word PETS.

Lucy isn't just a family pet, she's a family member. I picked her out of a large litter of labrador pups almost eleven years ago. She was much like the lab in the movie "Marley and Me" for the first year, always getting into something she shouldn't and chewing everything in her path. I couldn't wait for the puppy phase to pass!

"Go" is her favorite word, sometimes I think it's what she lives for. She's ridden lots of miles in the back of a pick up with me at the wheel. It's not easy for her to get in and out of the bed of the truck anymore, so she's riding in the cab with me. I just roll down the windows and she hangs her head out the window and grins. It's a beautiful sight!

I love my Lucy girl. My daughter calls her "the best dog in the world"...I couldn't agree more!

"Nouns and Verbs"... NICKNAMES

Nouns and Verbs is myparismagazine.com's weekly challenge where we write about what specific words mean to us. Join in the fun via the comment section, telling us how or why these ordinary nouns and verbs are meaningful to you. This week we’re thinking about NICKNAMES.

One of the many things that I love about growing up in the South is the way Southerners use language. We Southerners are as “fast as greased lightening, slow as molasses, full as a tick or ugly as a mud fence.” Yes, we’re colorful, and so are our nicknames.

Growing up in Henry County I heard plenty of nicknames. Some of them were rhymes, like my best friend, Joanie Pony, which was later shortened to just Pony. Forty-years later, she is listed as “Pony” in my cell phone contacts. Some names morph into nicknames, like my friend Jeff Perry who become known as Prairie Dog one day in grade school when we were studying animals of the Southwest. “Perry” to “Prairie” isn’t much of a stretch when you’re in fourth grade.

My all-time favorite nickname belonged to my old pal, Crawford “Crawdad” Chambers. I imagine that his named morphed from Crawford into Crawdad one day on a fishing expedition, but that’s just speculation.

I don’t know if Crawdad or Pony or Prairie Dog liked their nicknames, but they seemed to embrace them, much like Claudia Alta Taylor a.k.a. “Lady Bird” Johnson embraced hers, and rightfully so. After all, a nickname is a gift. It is uniquely yours. It’s a conversation starter. It’s often easier to remember than your given name. And it usually brings a smile to people’s faces when they meet you.

So here’s to each of you who make us grin when we call your name, be it Cotton, Tiny, Red, Hoss, Blondie, Goober, Doodle Bug, Puryear Slim, Henry Flash, Grunt, Tuncy Weence, Chip, Trip or Skip. As your mama has probably already told you, “People only call you that because they love you.”

Share your thoughts on NICKNAMES and check back often to read what others are writing.

Home

Nouns and Verbs is our weekly challenge where we write about what specific words mean to us. Join in the fun via the comment section, telling us how or why these ordinary nouns and verbs are meaningful to you. This week we’re thinking about HOME.

Home is a feeling, not a dwelling. WHERE we live isn't nearly as important as HOW we live. To find true happiness our lives must become filled with peace. We must start by loving the home that is within us. If we can feel love and affection, peace and security no matter where we are, then we are already home.

Success

Nouns and Verbs is our weekly challenge where we write about what specific words mean to us. Join in the fun via the comment section, telling us how or why these ordinary nouns and verbs are meaningful to you. This week we’re thinking about SUCCESS.

Success
To laugh often and much; To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.

Often attributed to Ralph Waldo Emerson, it is an adaptation of a poem published in 1905 by Bessie Stanley. No version of it has been found in Emerson's writings. For more information see http://www.transcendentalists.com/success.htm

Water

Nouns and Verbs is our weekly challenge where we write about what specific words mean to us. Join in the fun via the comment section, telling us how or why these ordinary nouns and verbs are meaningful to you. This week we’re thinking about WATER.

The word WATER makes me think of how much water I need to drink and how much water I don’t drink. Even with every grocery and convenient store in town filled with selections of bottled water (boo hiss), I can’t seem to drink the 64-ounces that the health gurus advocate.

I think it was that great American, Lewis Grizzard, who wrote, “I’m so glad my father didn’t live to see people buying water.” Although I’ve purchased my share of bottled water, these days I’m trying to use good old-fashioned water fountains. Here lately, I drink from every fountain I can find. Incidentally, my top pick for the best water fountain in town is the one at Chesemore Clinic on Morton Street. It’s a fantastic fountain and really should be included as part of the employee benefits package. A great runner up is the fountain at City Hall.

My funniest water fountain story happened in church, when I was about nine. I was hanging around by the water fountain before the service when our minister came flying down the hall, his black robe flapping behind him. He had apparently forgotten about a baptism that was to occur that morning. As he passed me, he pitched the solid gold baptism bowl (ok, it was brass, but it looked like gold to a nine-year-old) my way and yelled, “Quick, fill this up.”

I was stunned. I knew that only holy water was supposed to go in that bowl, and I had no idea where holy water came from. As it turns out, it comes right out of the water fountain.

I guess all water is important, in fact, it’s probably all holy - whether it comes from a plastic bottle (boo hiss), that natural spring in the park on the River Road, Chesemore Clinic, City Hall or the water fountain at church.

Share your thoughts on WATER and check back often to read what others are writing.

Water

Nouns and Verbs is our weekly challenge where we blog about what specific words mean to us. We invite you to join in the fun via the comment section, telling us how or why these ordinary nouns and verbs are meaningful to you. This week, the word is WATER.

We recently added a couple of blue rain barrels underneath the gutters of our garage. I went out yesterday to check on the progress and I'm happy to say the recent rainfall has them filling up quickly. When the weather dries up, I will have collected water for watering my garden, compost, flower beds and filling my birdbaths. Our barrel doesn't have a spigot or hose, so we'll transport the water with a bucket or watering can. I would enjoy hearing from anyone who has any experience in this area, or other ways to reduce, reuse and recycle.

The weekend is here….

When Monday arrives, I have a habit of asking folks what they did over the weekend. It’s not chit-chat, it’s a sincere question. Too often, the response is, “Nothing.”

Nothing? Nothing? We live in town with sports, arts, a winery, fun restaurants and the largest man made lake in the world and the response is, “Nothing"?

My people come from the “you can sleep when you're dead” tradition. Sure, everyone needs downtime, but why not block off at least one day or a couple of afternoons to get out and about? Sometimes, activities cost a few dollars while lots of fun is free. Here’s what I’m doing this weekend. How about you?

Friday night will find me at the Paris Henry County Heritage Center at a viewing party for the “24” Silent Auction Memorabilia. It’s a free gathering with good nibbles and a complimentary glass of wine…maybe two. You don’t have to bid, but there are plenty of cool items from the “24” TV show; look for some real bargains to be had.

Estate auctions make me sad, but I’ve got company coming in this weekend and they’d rather bid than eat. I’ll drop them off on Whitehall Circle in Paris where Doug Taylor will be having an auction.

After they’ve had a chance to make a few purchases, we’ll go have our photos made with President Allison Taylor (aka Cherry Jones) at the “24” Photo Op event at Jack Jones Flowers. Jones is trying to raise $10,000 this weekend. If you haven’t purchased a ticket and are willing to wait, Jones might hang around after the cut off (2:00 pm) to take more photos and raise more money. (Find out more at http://phcarts.com./24_Photo_Op.html#)

As part of the “24” Fundraising weekend, a lot of the downtown shops are having 24% off sales. The summer Crocs™ at Butler and Harber are calling my name, whether they’re on sale or not. There are cool antiques, clothing, art, music, gifts, food, delicious coffee and fabulous dogwoods downtown, so my out-of-town guests better get ready to check it all out. We’ll get a head start by perusing www.VisitDowntownParis.com.

If I left a bid on something at the Heritage Center during the Friday night Viewing Party, I’ll go back down there before 3:00 pm on Saturday. That’s when the bidding closes and I want to see where the bids are.

Saturday night it’s off to the Krider Performing Arts Center for the Town Hall meeting featuring Cherry Jones. She’ll be interviewed by Travis McLeese in the first half and will take questions from the audience during the second half. How often do Henry Countians get to chat with a two-time Tony award winning actress about her work? If they haven’t sold out of tickets at Jack Jones Flowers, they will be available at the door.

Running around all day Saturday is no excuse for skipping church on Sunday. Since my guests will be leaving early, I’ll go to the 8:30 service at First Methodist on South Poplar. That will afford some time to get a little rest before the tour of homes begins at 1:00 pm. I’m looking forward to the tours that David Webb’s history classes will be giving of the Court House, as well as seeing the homes of two Tennessee governors. Interesting afternoon for just $15….plus the money helps the Heritage Center.