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!