A Belated Merry Christmas

Here it is, almost a week after Christmas and I have yet to write anything about it. You would think that as hectic as it was, I would have a lot to say, but oddly, I don't. Don't get me wrong, it was great. Leaving aside getting a tree and wrapping presents, it started at 3:44 AM the day before Christmas with a text from Rachael saying that she was at the Louisville airport, and ended more or less two days after Christmas with me texting her at 11:30 PM to make sure she was safely back in Louisville.

In between, we decorated the tree, made cookies, watched a movie, opened presents Christmas morning, had Christmas dinner, baked, watched another movie, went to Amherst, baked some more, and did a whole bunch of other stuff- stuff that I may remember given time.

We squeezed a lot in, though we didn't have time to decorate the pine cones that Sam and I had collected a few weeks back (the picture above is from a couple of years ago). But that's OK, it gives us the excuse to do it some other time. We did plenty of of other things, and most importantly, we were all healthy, and we were all together.

Here are a few photos that I think convey the feelings of the four day span...

Letter to Santa

This year's letter from Sam...

My Early Christmas

There's nothing better than being in the kitchen preparing food for the family, while hearing the "kids" talking in the next room.

That's all I need.

Winter Ride

Sam and I have had several occasions to run nighttime errands these last few weeks. Along the way, we play Christmas carols and we usually take some detours to look at Christmas lights. I’m really enjoying this.What I really like are two things. First, when I ask him to go, I don’t have to ask him twice. He’s up, getting his shoes and jacket on, and pulling his tight wool hat down over his head- all before I have the chance to get my sneakers on. No convincing needed.

The other thing I like is, even though he doesn’t say a whole lot, other than the occasional “Wow” or “It looks like there are some down there.”, he sings to himself on some of the songs and he taps his feet in time to the music. Jingle Bells, Rudolph, Must Be Christmas, these seem to be his favorites.

His voice has changed since I last heard him sing. Of course, that was years ago, when I would rock him before bedtime. Back then, our three nightly standards were You Are My Sunshine, Sleep My Child, and Jingle Bells. This went on year round for at least a couple of years.

Now, with the deeper voice, the notes become a general target that he’s trying to hit. I don’t say much to him because I don’t want him to be self conscious about it, but it’s pretty fun, in one of those quiet, typical Sam kind of ways.

Friday Night Video

 Here's yet another repeat from a past post, this one from a year ago. I don't have much to add other than to reiterate that I really love this movie.  Next week, I'll try to post something new... but no promises.

Today's Rant

I had the occasion to take Sam to speech last night. I always enjoy the ride there and back with Sam, but when I'm there waiting, I never know what to expect. Often times, in the past, there's been a group of Moms there who take advantage of their sons being in a session, by treating the waiting room as a ladies club. Once their sons have disappeared into the other room, it's time to cue the spotlight. One at a time, they take turns talking at the other women, droning on and on about God knows what. The other women feign thoughtful expressions, occasionally nodding, looking distressed, or smiling- or whatever the appropriate reaction should be for the current performance. I'm pretty sure that none of them are really listening to whomever is doing the yapping, but rather, they are rehearsing their lines for when it is their turn to take the stage. This noise carries on, non-stop for the entire hour and barely a breath is taken.

Last night it was just me and one of the dads (not counting the receptionist behind the glass doors). This guy is a teacher and apparently he had a bad day. I've seen him several times before and I get the sense that the only kind of days he has are bad ones. He has a lot of opinions and expresses them forcefully, and that always makes me uncomfortable. But it's pretty hard to avoid a conversation when you're the only other one in the room. Luckily, the receptionist stepped into it and took up some of the slack.

One of the many things he was commenting on, besides his students and what a bunch of lazy ingrates they are (my words. I'm paraphrasing), were video games. He's against them it seems. It appears he's also against TV. I'm not sure how he feels about the radio or electric lights, but I know he drives a car, so I'm guessing he's ok with that. He railed about kids who have smart phones but can't afford to buy a notebook. How can you argue with that?

This guy is quite intelligent, which also makes me uncomfortable. He eventually directed his rant to the Internet (surprise!). But it wasn't really the Internet per se, it was more about social media. His wife apparently is on Facebook- and makes the mistake of not logging off. He "happened" to see her page at one point where one of her "friends" was complaining about her marriage, and she was commenting to everyone within her circle, or whatever you call it, thinking that it would somehow go no further. He was worked up about this. This, to him, was nuts.

As much as I hate to admit it, he had a point, and I've been kind of thinking about this myself lately. I write a lot of drivel here (present post included), but my motivation is usually not for an audience, it's just for the heck of it. Maybe it's just to get it off my chest. Mostly, it's just because something happens to be on my mind. But the thing is, I don't really care who sees it or who doesn't- as long as I don't have to interact with them. There's nothing here that would embarrass me- other than my bad grammar and inept punctuation. And even then, if someone doesn't like it, that's their problem.

I think with some people though, probably many people- they get lulled into some sense of intimacy and privacy, where none really exists. They will post intimate things about themselves that they would never think of saying or showing in any other forum. Maybe they'll post an intimate picture on Facebook or on Instagram or one of the millions of other sites, and they'll think that because there is the thin curtain of a password, that only a select few will ever see it. Yet it's an illusion. Once it's out there, it's out there and it's only a matter of time before the veil either slowly or quickly drops away to reveal a billboard of information or photos or whatever; things that they would never have even considered sharing if it were face to face. Yet, that is what happens. It ends up getting "shared" with the world, including eventually the people they would be most embarrassed to show it to- family, future employers- you name it.  It's only a matter of time before these things get around. I don't know why people don't think about what might happen.

Anyway, this guy was on a tear. He worked himself up into such a lather that he finally had to step out into the below freezing night and go for a walk.

I hate when guys like that have a point. If I agree with them, then I feel like they want me to agree with them on everything they've been saying, and I can't do that. People like that, or this guy anyway, sees things in black and white. This seems pretty black and white to me too, but for everything else, I see too many shades of grey. Plus, I don't have the energy or inclination to argue. I don't even have the energy to listen. This situation is almost worse than having to listen to the din of the women's group clucking away. At least their act didn't require audience participation.

So, when Other Dad returned from his walk and started complaining about the speaker wires that were poking through the wall and how he bet those weren't up to code, I pretty much kept my mouth shut and pretended to read my months old magazine and waited for Sam to finish so we could enjoy the quiet ride home together.

Coming Events

Even though her arrival is five days away, I've taken to carrying Rachael’s flight itinerary around in my back pocket. This is after having printed it out at least three times previously. If I didn't fear I would jinx things, I would mention how much I am looking forward to the whole family being together. But I don’t want to admit it, even to myself- especially to myself, for fear that something will go wrong.

I’m not sure why this is or where it comes from, but I have a pretty good idea. In fact, I've written about it more than once, but have never gone through with publishing it. It’s too much of a downer and doesn't fit well with the “tone” of this blog (such as it is).

For now, I’ll keep sitting tight with the growing knot in my stomach, while trying to convince myself that it’s no big deal and continue to lie to myself that I’m taking things in stride.

Perfect Timing

The coldest day of the year and the car's heater gives out on me on the way to work this morning. Now it's starting to snow.

Friday Night Video

Boy, Friday already! My already spotty posting is becoming even spottier (is that a word?). I'll blame it on the upcoming holidays, for lack of a better excuse.  And to make matters worse, I'm reposting something from last year... or maybe that was the year before. Who can keep track?

Anyway, in honor of the coming storm, here's a short clip from "The Snowman"...

Friday Night Video

When I was a kid, there was a local TV show on weekday mornings called Captain Bob. Captain Bob chatted with us from the other side of the screen and he played cartoons- pretty much like most kid show hosts. But there was something a little different about him. I remember he was a soft spoken guy who was pretty good at drawing, and he would take the time to teach us to draw with him. That held a certain kind of appeal for me.

And I remember that Captain Bob read the funnies on TV during a time when there was a newspaper strike. He kept referring to the character Charlie Brown by calling him "Peanuts". I thought it a little strange for someone I considered a pretty smart and well read guy. But that was OK.

I had intended to post one of the cartoons that Captain Bob would play, which was Felix the Cat. But in searching for the cartoon that I wanted, I came across the video below. He's a little older here than when I watched him, but otherwise it's pretty much exactly what I remember.

I'll get to Felix the Cat some other time.

Tech Report

I'm pretty sure the "Geniuses" in the Apple Store were impressed by me making a phone call on my Tracfone LG 840G- at least they were, judging by their expressions.

That's right Geniuses, that's an actual touch screen! Pick your jaws off the floor!

Friday Night Video

Here's a short clip in honor of Thanksgiving. No explanation is necessary, which works out well since I don't intend to give one. Here you are...

Thanksgiving

Some of the things I'm thankful for:
I spent the day with Helaina and Sam.
I saw Jake on TV.
Sam helped me slice mushrooms and make pie.
I Skyped with Rachael.
I picked Jake up before dinner.
I cooked dinner for everyone.
I had multiple texts and a phone call from Rachael.
Everyone is sleeping peacefully upstairs as I write this (I think).

The only thing that would make this better is if Rachael were sleeping upstairs too.

Thanksgiving Preparations

This should be interesting. It’s the day before Thanksgiving and as I’m sitting here, a major storm is passing through the east coast. Thankfully, it’s not snow- just wind and rain. Jake’s in New York with the marching band, having arrived yesterday to prepare for the Macy’s parade. As I understand it, he has to get up about two in the morning tomorrow to get ready. The storm is supposed to have blown through by then, but it’s possible that it may still be in the area.

I just read a news article that, because of the wind, there’s a chance that the balloons won’t be able to be in the parade. Apparently, back in 1997, the Cat in the Hat balloon was caught in high winds which caused it to knock over a light pole, which in turn fell on some woman. According to this same article, the balloons have only been grounded once before, back in 1971. This article also mentions that activists plan to protest the Sea World float. Not sure how the possible un-inflation might affect those plans.

I guess one way or another, this will be a day he'll always remember.

Friday Night Video

I was looking around for a movie clip to post in honor of Thanksgiving coming up this week, but there aren't a lot of Thanksgiving movies that strike a cord with me.

I almost went with a clip of John Carpenter's "The Thing", which was pretty good. The only problem is, near as I can remember, it has absolutely nothing to do with Thanksgiving. It does have a shape shifting alien that terrorizes a scientific research team in Antarctica, but that's about as close as it gets.

Anyway, instead, tonight we have a clip from "Planes, Trains & Automobiles". I enjoy this movie, despite some perhaps corny parts. Corny is ok though, if it's done right. This clip is taken from the end of the movie and if I need to set it up for you, well, too bad. I'm not going to.

This may or may not be one of the cornier parts, but like I said, that's fine. I think it's done right.

Here you go...

Finale

It's hard for me to believe that all of the years of recitals and school plays and violin performances and soccer games and field hockey matches and basketball games and track and cross country meets and football half times; all of the concert choirs and all of the band performances- everything, it all comes to an end with this final performance.

I knew at those times that I should treasure every minute of it- from the too tired Friday nights, to the cold rain falling on the stands, to the waiting in the freezing cold car for the game bus to return. I knew even then that it was all irreplaceable and that if I missed it, I would regret it. I knew then that I should drink it all in.

After twenty plus years, it comes to an end, and while you would think I would be prepared for it, the sense of loss is profound.

Everything, as always, is too temporary to me.

So, here we are: a photo from the stands, which is about where the videos were taken from, a couple of clips of mace performances- one during the half time show, one from after. And another, longer clip of Jake singing, nearing the end of the senior show.

I'm surprised to see that the video is unfortunately so blurry. I thought it was only my eyes.

Jake is on the closest ladder.

And for a final reprise, a song that was originally performed from his first season, under George Parks, this time with Jake doing the vocals-



P.S. There is a much better video of the entire after game show here. It runs nearly fifty minutes. If you don't have time to watch the entire thing, watch from the four minute- thirty second mark, and again at the forty minute- ten second mark. My thanks to the person with the steadier hand and better camera than I.

A Long Day

A long and emotionally draining day today. I'll post about it another time... maybe. For now, enjoy some Everly Brothers.

Friday Night Video

It's been a while since we watched a little Outer Limits, so how about tonight? This, from October 1964, is called "Behold Eck!" It's the heartwarming tale of a two dimensional creature trapped in a world he didn't make... or something like that.

This is another one of those shows I wasn't allowed to watch, although I remember my babysitter sneaking a look. She told me I wasn't supposed to watch it, so she instructed to block my eyes as she checked it out for a minute. Naturally, I peaked.

Update

Sorry for not updating lately. I think I'm fighting a little bit of a cold and a little bit of a depression.

Friday Night Video

This video is from a game that the kids played when they were little- the three older kids, that is. I had bought the shareware version of this at a computer show- back when they had computer shows. It came on a floppy disk and it only had the first level. The kids played it so much, I tried to by the whole program but near as I could tell, the company had gone out of business.

I remember Rachael was particularly adept at this. So, it was almost always her in the driver's seat- with Helaina and Jacob flanking her on either side... one of the many things they bonded over.

This video goes on for six minutes and twenty-eight seconds. I'm pretty sure Rachael could beat that time.

Today's Comment

There's a video going around online of a mother singing to her baby girl. Only the baby's face fills the screen, while the mother sings off camera. It's a sad song I suppose, and the mother's voice is ok. But the baby just watches as tears well up in her eyes until finally the mother stops and comforts her, again off camera.

I guess this is supposed to be entertaining, but I can't figure out why anyone likes this sort of thing. The baby is clearly concerned and upset. Why put her through this? This isn't cute. All I can think is, "Shut your mouth, put the camera down, and go hug her."

Even worse is that the mother had to have discovered this at some point prior to this video, found it cute, or entertaining or ...something. And then set up a camera and put her baby through it all over again.

What the hell is the matter with people?

A Little More Mace Action

This video would have come out better if I wern't getting bumped throughout half time. Oh well...

Friday Night Video

When I was a kid, somewhere around kindergarten or first grade, there used to be a couple of old movie shows on TV in the late afternoon. One was Ed Miller's Dialing for Dollars, the other was Boston Movie Time.

The intro for Boston Movie Time started with the camera in first person, rolling through a couple of old theater doors into the movie theater just in time for the show to begin. For some reason, I found this quite creepy. Maybe it was the stark black and white of the era. Maybe it was because I probably wasn't supposed to be watching TV.

Whatever the reason, I remember catching glimpses of an old sci-fi movie. This particular one, uniquely enough, had to do with a robot that had gone out of control and was now on a rampage. As I remember it, the robot's body was a large, shiny cylinder and the arms were like silver dryer hoses. This thing lumbered around, terrorizing mostly women and me. I remember nothing else about this movie, other than that the thought of this thing kept me up for many, many nights.

I've looked many times for this movie on the internet, but as you can imagine, searching for an old sci-fi movie staring an out of control robot that's turned on it's creator, has brought me hundreds of thousands of results- none of which are the one I'm looking for.

So, instead, tonight I offer a clip of Mary Poppins in Japanese.

Trick or Treat

Nothing says "Halloween" like standing outside in the dark, cold rain, while your sixteen year old is knocking on doors, dressed as a pumpkin.

Things That Make Me Uncomfortable

Here's one thing that makes me uncomfortable: Hearing the toilet flush in the bathroom next to the doctor's office, right before the doctor comes in and proceeds to poke his fingers in my nose and throat.

Mutiple Choice

Guess which of the below is the most fun you can have while sitting in a windy and cold football stadium:

a) Sitting directly in front of a group of loud, beer lubricated football "experts" who generously share their knowledge and nonstop wit, while using their fifteen word vocabularies- half of which are swears?

b) Sitting in front of the lubricated parents as their prepubescent spawns are continuously screeching in their one octave shy of dog whistle voices, while they bang on the seats in front of them- all in a delightful display of their innocent rambunctiousness?

c) Sitting in the seat diagonally behind a huge woman who's crammed into a too-small seat, while she continually dumps fistfuls of popcorn into her gaping maw, only to have the wind blow about a third of the popcorn onto you like yellow, buttery snow?

If you answered, "Gee, I can't decide. They all sound so great!", then give yourself a pat on the back. The answer is: " All of them" 

It is The Most Fun You Can Have!

My Friday

There was no Friday Night Video this week- for the first time in I don't know how long. Why? Well, because, as unbelievable as it sounds, I had a scheduling conflict! That's right, I actually had, for the first time in maybe forever, more than one thing to do. So something had to give. In this case, it was my extremely popular, "Friday Night Video" feature.

What could possibly pull me away from sitting alone in front of my computer on a Friday night? In this case, it was a trip to World Famous Boston, Massachusetts! Yes, the cradle of democracy, and now, unfortunately, a veritable boiler room for liberal "thinking". Despite this, I had a pretty good time.

Here, for your enjoyment, are a few random shots from my exciting day:

First stop was the famous State House, sitting atop the even more famous, Beacon Hill. I was there pretty early so there wasn't much going on.

Pretty soon though, traffic started to pick up. Here's the tail end of one of the many tour buses that passed by. How could someone not want to hop on one of these, with so many luxurious amenities offered?

Looks like someone didn't like the tour. Perhaps they chose a substandard tour line that offered something less than "100% padded seats".

 

Here are some cute kids watching a marching band parade that came through a little while later. I wonder,  does a seed gets planted in their minds at this young age? Will one of them want to play an instrument? Will one of them want to become a drum major? If so, I peg the one on the right- saluting. Fight that liberal indoctrination kids!

A little later in the day, I decided to do a little early Christmas shopping in China Town. For such a supposedly "liberal" city, I found it kind of surprising the looks I was getting- just because I was walking around with a Hello Kitty bag.

I saw a concert later that night at the Boston Symphony Hall. Wasn't too bad. Wonder what that "O" stands for?

From there, I headed back home, arriving past midnight- way too late to post a Friday Night Video, seeing as it was technically Saturday. Sorry about that.

Oh, and that parade I mentioned? Here's a pic that I came across:

This apparently is that same band that appeared in my post from last Saturday. For some reason, I think I have maybe another hundred or so of these photos from throughout the day. I'm gonna have to find something to do with them.

Adventures in Grocery Shopping

I was stuck in line at the courtesy desk for about fifteen minutes tonight. The woman in front of me was complaining to the girl behind the desk about how she had only bought a half a chicken and yet it seems she was charged the full per pound price. The woman reasoned that it wasn't her fault that she lived by herself and a whole chicken was "just too much chicken for one person"- and that charging her the full per pound price was, in her mind, "discrimination".

The manager was called.

That's when I left.

Saturday Afternoon Videos

Where was I last night, you ask? Well, I was at the Fine Arts Center watching what will likely be the last concert I will ever see there- certainly the last concert featuring people I know personally. It was a night mixed with pride and some sadness over the inevitable passing of an era.

For many years I've attended concerts there that involved All District Chorus performances and various band performances. If this had to be the last one, it was a good way to end it. Still, I'm gonna miss it.

Sorry for the home movie-like quality, but they are, after all, home movies. They play better on YouTube, where you can scale them larger than my tiny blog format allows. Make sure you watch 'em both!

Friday Night Video

Not much time left before it's no longer Friday night. It's too late to come up with something, so I'll just post this. Maybe more over the weekend, we'll see how it goes. For now, good night.

Treasured Memories

Back in early grade school, we had a savings account “club” that the school offered in cooperation with a local bank. This club, if that is really what it was, came with a little yellow savings book that slid into a clear plastic sleeve. Every week we would bring it to school, along with a few coins inside, where the teacher would collect them and some lucky teacher's pet would bring them to the principal’s office. Then, at some point, the bank would presumably collect all the loot, stamp our books, and our money would grow, grow, grow!

I remember one particular morning when these bank books were being collected, and I, thinking I had forgotten mine, didn’t pass it in. Unfortunately, a few minutes later I discovered it when reaching in my pocket, and more unfortunately, I said something about it to my teacher.

My teacher at the time was Mrs. Hickson. Mrs. Hickson was, shall we say, a “Large” woman, and by “Large”, I’m not talking “large to a second grader” large. I’m talking “large to a normal human being” large. Before going into second grade, my brother Steve had told me that if you did something wrong in Mrs. Hickson’s class, she would sit on you. I don’t know if he would deny ever having said that today, but he denied it back then- at least he did when I quoted him at the dinner table (“What??!!! I NEVER said that!”, Steve exclaimed. His voice was a mixture of indignation and outrage over this slanderous accusation.) Mom and Dad looked at him with disgust. It sounded like something he would say. But then again, I had been pegged as a liar, so who knew?

That being said, it was with some amount of caution that I raised my hand and told Mrs. Hickson that I had forgotten to give her my savings book. She didn’t sit on me, as I had feared. Instead, she chose to take this opportunity to make an example out of me in front of the entire class. She called me up to the front of the room, where she berated me and droned on and on, acting as if this was some kind of major disruption- second only to the invasion of Poland.

As she wrapped up her scornful diatribe, I was instructed to march myself down to the principal’s office, where I could explain my buffoonish and inconsiderate behavior to Mrs. Perry.

Mrs. Perry was the stern principal of the school. She had one of those overly wrinkled faces that comes from too many years of heavy chain smoking. To me, the wrinkles made her resemble one of those dolls that people in Appalachia make using an old crab apple for a head. This, combined with an abundance of rouge and a deep red lipstick applied by someone who never mastered coloring between the lines, made her both a curious and frightening figure. Some people said she was nice, but I never saw it. She must have been nice to someone though, because after they tore the school down, they named the resulting park after her.

Anyway, I found myself standing in Mrs. Perry’s office, explaining the situation to her as she silently glared at me from behind her big oak desk, her bony index fingers pressed against each other, making the shape of an arrowhead. As she listened, she squinted at me and pursed her deep red lips tightly together, as if she were trying to suck up a marble through some invisible straw. When I was done explaining, there was nothing but silence for what seemed like an eternity- though in reality it was probably more like fifteen seconds. Finally she said, “Let me get this straight. You want me to get up, go over to that bag, unlock the bag, and put your bank book in it- all because you couldn’t hand it in on time?” She glared at me some more.

I glanced at the money bag sitting on the chair behind me. The money bag had a tiny little lock on the top, as if it were a joke, and the bag itself looked like one of those money bags from an old cops and robbers movie- only without the dollar sign on the outside. The chair though, looked exactly like what I had imagined the electric chair to look like.

She continued to glare at me in silence, as if to make the point that she was even more disgusted than Mrs. Hickson was at the special treatment that I apparently thought I deserved.

What was I supposed to say? She seemed to have a pretty good grasp of the situation. She continued with her scowl for several more minutes, just to make sure I fully appreciated the gravity of situation. Finally, she slowly reached across her desk ,then snatched the bankbook out of my sweaty little hand. She graciously agreed to make an exception “just this one time".

I stood there as she silently stared- first at me, then at my bankbook, then finally down into my bankbook. Then she glared back at me as she slowly tipped the envelope upside down and shook it. Nothing dropped out. “There’s no money in here”, she said.

Well, what do you know. Apparently, this had all been a big misunderstanding.

I can still feel the burning of Mrs. Perry’s cold, beady eyes at the back of my head as I slinked out of her door for my long, silent walk of shame through the cold, deserted halls of the penitentiary. As I left, she was no doubt reaching for my permanent record, where she would add yet another black mark.

Why I never made a run for it, I don’t know. Instead, I headed back to class.

There is only one thing worse than being called out in front of your entire class. That is having to come back into the class, midway through a lesson, and having the teacher and the rest of the class watch in silence as you slink back to your seat.

I remember sitting there wishing I were invisible and thinking, “Please, at least let me make it until lunch time.” And I remember the relief I felt when lunch time finally came- only to discover I that had forgotten my lunch money.

Friday Night Video

Tonight we have an instructional video on how to deal with a nuclear attack- the perfect video to watch before bedtime. This was produced in the mid to late fifties, a time when the pervasive fear and paranoia was largely directed at foreign countries and their ideologies, plus fellow citizens, unlike today where it is directed at fellow citizens and their ideologies- plus foreign countries.

I don’t remember seeing this film in school. This may be because I started my lengthy stay at Harris School in the early sixties, so I was on the backside of this wave- barely. I do have vague memories of the fear it instilled, but I think this is more likely part of the general fear that was induced by the “teachers” (as they liked to call themselves) during my formative years.

I think if I had seen this film back then, it would have had one of two results: It either would have kept me from falling asleep at night, or it would have offered some relief that at least there was a small change that I wasn't going to have to go to school the next day.

So, sit back, relax and enjoy a little piece of good old American history.

Sweet dreams.

A Little Mace Action

From far away in the stands, on a very windy day...

Another Milestone

Tonight I helped Sam shave for the first time.

Old and Older TV Shows

You can find an interesting picture of the old Dick Van Dyke show here. And you can find another one right here.

And in a similar vein, you can find some interesting behind the scene photos from Seinfeld here.

Friday Night Video

"Supercar" was a show that I watched in the early sixties. I believe it was on early Sunday evenings-though I could easily be wrong about that. It seems like pretty much every show I watched was either on Friday night, Saturday morning, or Sunday evening.
 

I remember three things about this show. First, the car was totally awesome. The astounding  sequence at the beginning said it all. Who wouldn't want one of those? 

Second, I remember the ATV symbol at the very end of the show. ATV, I gather, was the production company in Great Britain that hatched these shows. Why this stands out in my mind, I have no idea.
 

But the third and most important thing I remember about this show, was that everything in between those first two things, totally creeped me out. The "stars" of this show were a bunch of puppets- marionettes actually.  The producers called this "supemarionation", which I believe is Latin for "puppets that scare the crap out of you".
 

Below is part of the first episode. Watch it and see if you don't keep your Dad awake with all those "bad thoughts" that haunt you at bedtime.  I would say, "Enjoy", but I know better.

October 2nd

Happy Birthday Dad. I miss you.

Friday Night Video

Here's a trailer for the original (to me) "War of the Worlds"  movie. The first time I saw this was on a late Sunday afternoon, on the black and white tv set in our basement. It was one more layer on my already haunted psyche that kept me awake throughout so much of the early sixties. Yet, like so many things in life, I both loved and feared it.

This movie had it all. It started with a flying saucer that landed somewhere out in the boonies (as they did in most movies- except maybe "The Day the Earth Stood Still"), and it never let up. You want pulse pounding action? Try this on for size:  A general mapping out intricate war plans on a chalkboard? Check! War games played out on a giant, government issued Risk board? Check! Random guy on fire, crashing into a table? Check and Double Check!

As a kid, I was dazzled by the glossy special effects. But as I've matured, I've come to appreciate the gritty realism. There is no better example of this than in the scenes of sheer mass panic near the end of this clip. This is reality in it's rawest form. None of that mamby-pamby, "We're all in this together" or  "Help thy neighbor" crap. This, my friend, reflects traditional American values- values like, "When the going gets tough, it's every man for himself." This, my friend, is harsh reality.

You think an alien invasion would be met with an orderly evacuation ("No neighbor, you were here first. Please, go ahead of me.")? Wake up and smell the coffee. Watch and learn as people get thrown through store fronts and hit on the head with crates. Take a good long look at the guy in the back of the truck, swinging his constitutionally protected club for no apparent reason. Which end of the club will you be on? Well? Think about it!

Anyway, I digress.

Somewhere around this house, I have this film on an unopened DVD. After reliving some of these exciting and suspenseful scenes, I'm tempted to crack it open and relive it again- this time in full Technicolor and "with a mighty panorama of Earth-shaking fury!" Unfortunately, I'm pretty sure the Earth shaking fury might scare the crap out of Sam. So instead, I share it with you. Sit back, watch, learn, and most of all- enjoy!

A Simple Question- P.S.

I should point out from the post below that:

A) Customer Service did nothing to resolve my question. I had to find it out myself, and  B) the figure they finally quoted me to add Caller I.D. to my service, was not "$10.99-14.99/Mo". It was a net add of $3.50.

A Simple Question

This is from a customer service phone chat I had with Verizon today. All I wanted to know was how much it would cost to add "Caller I.D." to my phone plan:

Chat Subject:Upgrade Existing Services

Your Question:I'm just trying to figure out how much it would be to add caller ID too my existing service.

A Verizon Service Representative will be with you shortly. Thank you.

Agent Faber has joined. (11:56:13)

Faber : Chat ID for this session is 09251378183. (11:56:13)

Faber(11:56:13): Thank you for choosing Verizon and visiting our chat service. I would be happy to assist you with your question.

For quality and security purposes, your session is recorded and may be monitored or reviewed. Please do not provide sensitive information such as social security, bank account or credit card numbers to the chat agent. May we view your selections and/or account information, including any services you subscribe to, which are displayed to you on verizon.com, so that we may assist you with respect to available Verizon products and services? Under federal law, it is your right and our duty to protect your account information. May I have your permission?

Faber: (11:56:23): Thank you for being our valued Verizon customer. 

ME: (11:56:36): ok

Faber: (11:56:41): I would be glad to assist you with your questions, and navigate you through out the online order process.

Faber: (11:57:26): Could you please let me know if you are logged in to your Verizon Account?

ME: (11:57:45): yes.

Faber: (11:58:31): Please click on the "Phone Extras" button, located on the left side of your Verizon Account page, and let me know once you are on the next page.

ME: (11:59:41): I think so. On the lower right, it says: "Add to your phone service" and gives selections.

Faber: (12:00:06): Please click on the "Add/Upgrade My Services" button, located on the left side of your Verizon Account page, then after you would be able to see "Phone Extras" button, under it.

ME: (12:00:36): Ok. Got it.

Faber(12:01:06): Please click on the "Calling features" tab, and check if you are able to see "Caller ID" feature.

ME: (12:01:21): ok. thanks.

Faber(12:01:56): you are welcome. Could you please let me know if you were able to find the "Caller ID" feature?

ME: (12:03:27): Yup,thanks

Faber(12:04:38): Please select the Caller ID feature, and click on the Checkout button. Let me know once you are on the next page.

ME: (12:05:17): Well, I'm not sure if I want to add it. I was checking out the price.

Faber(12:06:07): Could you please let me know if you make long distance calls?

ME: (12:06:17): Not many.

Faber(12:07:07): You may upgrade your phone plan, with which you would get more calling features.

Faber(12:07:27): Please click on the "Add/Upgrade My Services" button, and let me know once you are on the next page.

ME: (12:07:59): I'm on the page.

ME: (12:08:15): Same as before.

Faber(12:09:05): Please click on the "Add TV or Internet" button, located under the "Add/Upgrade My Services" button, and let me know once you are on the next page.

ME: (12:09:42): Ok, I'm there.

Faber(12:10:58): Could you please check if you are able to see TV, Internet, and phone plans listed under the 'Create your own bundle' section?

ME: (12:11:18): I see them.

Faber(12:12:13): Please uncheck the TV, and Internet sections. Let me know once you have done that.

ME: (12:12:27): It's done.

Faber(12:13:07): Could you please check if you are able to see "Regional Essentials" phone plan?

ME: (12:13:40): Yes, I see it.

Faber(12:14:30): Please select "Regional Essentials" phone plan, and click on the "Add to cart" button. Let me know what price you able to see in your cart.

ME: (12:16:36): I clicked the "Selected" button, but the only "Add to Cart" button is for "Triple Play".

Faber(12:19:51): I apologize for the inconvenience caused to you.

ME: (12:20:06): Now the window went black with a refresh button. I clicked it and I'm back on the "create your own bundle page".

Faber(12:21:41): Thank you for the information.

Faber(12:22:06): I would recommend you to opt for Verizon Home phone, and High speed Internet double bundle, which would cost you $44.99/Mo without any contract.

ME: (12:22:44): I would, but I already have internet that I'm happy with.

Faber(12:23:44): Once you sign up, Verizon will become your Internet service provider (ISP). You will not require any other Internet service provider (ISP) with Verizon high speed internet service.

Faber(12:23:55): The great thing about High Speed DSL is that it's a dedicated connection. Cable internet service is a connection you share with neighbors around you, thus your speed will fluctuate during peak hours.

Faber(12:24:20): You would also qualify for the best bundle discounted price, if you opt for upgraded phone plan, and fastest internet speed plan.

ME: (12:24:27): I'm happy with what I have.

Faber(12:24:37): Verizon Regional Essentials offers unlimited local and local toll calling and 3 of our most popular calling features: Caller ID, Call Waiting and Voice Mail. Since it does not include nationwide long distance, it's perfect if you only make calls within your local or local toll calling area.

ME: (12:25:09): Ok. How much is that?

ME: (12:26:43): I already have call waiting and  local long distance.

Faber(12:26:49): You would get Verizon Regional Essentials + High Speed Internet Enhanced 7.1-15 Mbps double bundle at the rate of $44.99/Mo without any contract. The standalone price for Regional Essentials is up to $49.99/Mo

ME: (12:27:35): Ok.. I'll think it over.
 

ME: (12:29:03): Thanks for your help.

Faber(12:29:43): You would not be charged for any installation fee to install High speed Internet service, as you would get the self installation option.

ME: (12:30:18): Yeah,, but all I'm after is the price of what caller ID would add to the plan I have.

Faber(12:31:53): You may add Caller Id at the rate of $10.99-14.99/Mo to your current Home phone plan; however, if you upgrade your phone plan to Regional Essentials you would get Caller Id, and other 2 calling features included in your phone plan.

ME: (12:33:19): And how much does that add?

Faber(12:34:19): You would not be charge any additional upgrade fee to upgrade your Home phone plan to Regional Essentials.

ME: (12:34:56): What is the added monthly cost?

Faber(12:35:56): If you opt for Verizon Regional Essentials + High speed Internet Enhanced 7.1-15 Mbps double bundle your monthly bill would be $44.99/Mo + Taxes. There is no contract with Verizon Home phone, and High Speed Internet double bundle.

Faber(12:38:37): Could you please let me know if you are still able to see 'Create your own bundle' section on your Verizon Account page?

ME: (12:39:28): I only want someone to look at my monthly bill and say:"It would add X dollars for caller ID, OR there is a bundle that has the services you already have that includes caller ID, so the price difference would be ..." If I can't find that out, I think I'll stay with what I have. I've been on too long as it is.

Faber(12:40:28): I see that currently you have Flat rate phone plan at the rate of $19.64/Mo.

Faber(12:41:33): With Flat rate you would get unlimited local calling without any calling features. You would be charged additional for each calling feature. Plus you would be charged for Regional, and Long distance calling plans.

Faber(12:44:34): If you upgrade your services to double bundle your monthly bill would be $44.99/Mo + Taxes (your estimated taxes and fees would range between 10% - 15% of your total monthly Verizon bill)

Faber(12:44:49): With Regional Essentials phone plan you would get unlimited local, and Regional callings. Plus 3 of our most popular calling features: Caller ID, Call Waiting and Voice Mail.

Faber(12:45:10): With High Speed Internet Enhanced 7.1-15 Mbps Internet plan you would get the fastest internet speed available at your location, and free Wifi service.

ME: (12:45:11): Ok. One last question: I see on the other page, you offer "Call Waiting- ID" and it says it includes "Caller ID", and you also offer just "Caller ID". If I got rid of my current "Call Waiting" and got "Call Waiting- ID", wouldn't this be the same as just adding on "Caller ID"?

Faber(12:46:01): Yes, "Call Waiting ID" includes caller Id, and call waiting features.

ME: (12:47:51): So that's all I want to do, have my current Call Waiting and also have Caller ID. So, I deselect my current Call Waiting, and select "Call Waiting ID", correct?

Faber(12:48:26): Yes, you are correct. Then after click on the checkout button, and let me know once you are on the next page.

ME: (12:49:22): All set. I'll submit it.

Faber(12:49:47): Congratulations on completing your Verizon order successfully online.
You will receive an e-mail confirmation letter, within 24 hours, from Verizon. This e-mail will have your online order number which you can use to check your online order status.

ME: (12:50:19): Ok. Bye.

Faber(12:50:30): You are all set now!

Faber(12:50:40): Can you think of any additional questions that I can assist you with today?

ME: (12:50:53): No, I'm all set.

Friday Night Video

There are fondly remembered shows from my past that have aged nicely... and there are those that haven't. For years I've wished that a show called "Switch" would come out on DVD. Now, after seeing this mercifully short clip, I'm thinking maybe not.

This show played for a couple of years, beginning in 1975 and was about a former cop (Eddie Albert) and a former con man (Robert Wagner) who teamed up as partners in a private investigating firm. I used to watch this with Mom and Dad, and I remember the show as being kind of clever.

I will say that I like Eddie Albert in just about everything I've seen him in- old talk shows included, and my respect for him- not only as an actor, but as a human being, has only grown the more I've learned about him.

And to be fair, maybe it's best not to judge the show from this one clip. Maybe. That said, enjoy.

Friday Night Video

In honor of the weather of the last few days, here's a clip of Gene Kelly dancing in what is a good approximation of my basement- especially around the four minute mark...

Today's Comment

Once I realize it's Thursday already, the rest of the day feels like it should be Friday.

Whirligig

My head is spinning. I'm not used to being this busy. All day Saturday was spent at a college football game.

Living for Half Time

For some odd reason, I seem to have no pictures of the game itself, yet I have an abundance of photos of the marching band.

Sunday was spent picking up Jake, and going to the fair in the morning- until it started to rain. The afternoon was spent getting groceries and cooking food for Jake to take back and then bringing him, and all the food, back to his house.

"Like the Spanish city to me, when we were kids..."

Later that evening, Helaina and I went back to the Fair where we did a lot of walking and taking pictures and even going on the Ferris Wheel together.

I'm beat.

Friday Night Video

I was about ten years old when this show aired and only caught it infrequently. I think that may be because it fell into that time frame where Dad got it into his head that we were watching too much TV or TV was a waste of time... or something like that. Whatever it was, I wasn't paying attention. I only know that it stunted my childhood by not allowing me the full experience of shows like Green Acres.

And don't even get me started on the Beverly Hillbillies.

Here's twenty-five minutes and twenty seconds of pure absurdity...

Dormant

It's sad to see grass and moss overtaking the bare spots under the tree swings.

My Home Town

 

I came across this picture on someone’s website a while back. I wish I had bookmarked the site where I found it so I could least thank the person who took it, if not link to it.

What you're looking at here is a photo taken of one of the four sides of my old hometown square. Judging by the stores and the looks of the cars, it fits nicely into the era of my childhood- the early to mid sixties.

This group of shops faced the town common, as did the shops behind me and across from me.. The fourth side of the common, directly across from the shops in this photo and to my left, would be the town hall.

The shops across from this photo were not places I frequented a whole lot. On the corner, the corner closest to the stores in this photo, was a bank (which I mentioned here). A few doors down on the left from that bank was a Grant’s Department Store.

Grant’s was a competitor of Woolworth’s, but didn’t have the folksy “charm”. The only time I can really remember going into Grant’s was at Christmastime, when my family would go Christmas shopping. I remember shopping for presents on one particular night, and standing in front of racks that were filled with manger figures. These were the hand painted, paper mache type from Italy that you can sometimes, rarely, find at a flea market or tag sale. They’re the ones they now make less colorful, plastic replicas of.

My oldest sister had one of these mangers, so I bought her a donkey and I think, a cow. I knew she already had at least one of these animals, but it made sense to me that there might be more than one of them hanging around a manger. It certainly made more sense than having a fourth wise man- which would look like the exact twin of one of the other guys- stunned expression and all, and it certainly made more sense than buying a second baby Jesus- unless you were going to use one for a stand-in.

So, I bought the two figures and I bought a couple of the Christmas candles, also hand painted: a choirboy and a blue church. These candles sat on our mantel for years, along with other choir boys and girls, a holly decorated lamp post, and a jolly, waving snowman and Santa. Now they sit in a can, somewhere in my basement, since I don’t have a mantel, or the space to show them.

But going back to this photo, just out of sight past the Woolworth’s, and across from the aforementioned bank, was Kinne’s pharmacy (which I have incorrectly spelled elsewhere as “Kinney’s” - even though it makes more sense). Kinne’s (or Kinney’s) was a place I visited most Saturdays when I tagged along with Dad on his errands. This was in the day when a Pharmacy, like most things back then, were stand alone entities- instead of being a part of a super store chain, one that might also sell weapons and ammunition along with the drugs.

It wouldn’t be unusual for a town to have more than one drug store, and indeed, I can think of at least four in my old town, and I'm sure there are ones that I’ve forgotten.

Between Kinne’s and Woolworth's (and also out of sight), was a dress shop. This was also one of those stores that was a stand alone concern, before superstores made them obsolete. Unlike the pharmacy, I don’t mourn the loss.

Next we had Woolworth’s- the combination super store/ dollar store of my day. They had it all. Outside was the bright red sign that glowed brightly at night. It was especially pretty at the holidays where it contrasted nicely with the Blue Tree across the street.

When you passed through the doors, you were greeted with a scale that also sold you a tiny rolled up horoscope for a nickel, and gumball machines- including a grimey one that would dispense a few yummy pistachio nuts which would stain your fingers red when you pried them open.

They also sold housewares and clothes and toys, and in the back, they even sold pets- not big pets, like dogs or, God forbid- cats. But they sold pets such as little mini turtles, which my brother and one of my other sisters had. And they sold fish. And they had a couple of cages filled with colorful canaries and parakeets. Throughout the store you could hear the birds squawking, amplified perhaps due to the old wood floors. The squaks sounded an awful lot like high pitched: “Help! Help!”. Nowadays, most of these pets are either “protected” or extinct.

Woolworth’s also had a lunch counter along one side of the store. This was the type like you might see in a Norman Rockwell painting, but with more grease. I rarely went over there and I never ate there. This had nothing to do with the grease, as appealing as it was. It was because this counter was on the opposite side of the store from the toys and the pets. In between were rows of things like bedding and women's clothing. It just wasn’t worth the hassle. But boy, those hot dogs sure smelled good.

To the right of Woolworth’s was Rimmele’s Market. This was not the hot spot for me that Woolworth’s was. I went in there maybe once or twice. I remember it also having those easy to clean wooden floors, which was probably the same floor carried over from Woolworth’s next door. I remember it had it’s butcher section in the back, which works especially well with a wood floor. And I remember it being filled with old people, including the butcher. Other than that, there was simply no need for me to go in there, particularly when there were better ways for me to spend my time.

One of those “better ways” was right next door- Gardener’s Music Shop. Gardener’s was a narrow store, probably not much wider than ten feet or so, but it ran as deep as Woolworth’s or Rimmele’s. When you squeezed into the store, immediately on the right was glass display counter, behind which was the cash register. The display case was the kind that, had it been somewhere else, might have been filled with watches or jewelry. Here, it was filled with novelties and practical jokes- things like pepper gum, wind up hand buzzers and those little magnetic black and white Scottie dogs that, when you put them nose to nose, one would whip around, so one ended up sniffing the other one's butt.

It also had siren rings that, because it was the sixties, were made of metal… and really worked. They sold those packs of little black pellets, called “Snakes”, which when you lit them, burned rapidly, making a fizzing sound as they expanded into a long ash “snake”. I think it was my brother who got the idea to light the whole pack at once, thus releasing one big, fat ashen snake. I think it was me who got the idea of lighting them indoors, thus releasing flakes of ash across the formerly white living room ceiling. (By the way-talk about making a federal case over something. I should have at least gotten credit for doing it in the fireplace.)

Gardner's sold caps and finely crafted cap guns. They sold little miniature monkeys and little rubber faces that smoked little miniature cigarettes which blew smoke rings when you lit them (refill packs sold separately- just like real life!). Gardener’s had it all, and they wisely kept in behind a glass case.

I had never really thought much about why they called it Gardener’s Music Store. It was just a name. One day I happened to turn my head and there, hanging all along the opposite wall, and fading into the darkness of the back of the store, were packets of sheet music and musical instruments and supplies. I remember thinking, “How about that! They sell instruments too!”

Next to Gardener’s Music was Rexall Drugs. Two things I remember about Rexall. First, back in my day, stores didn’t open on Sundays, unless they were drug stores. This qualified. I don’t remember going into this one on any particular Sunday, but there was one in a neighboring town and sometimes we would go out to brunch on Sundays, then swing by their local Rexall to kill time before going home.

What I remember about this particular Rexall was that it was one of the two places in town where I would buy comic books (that’s if you don’t count the Bird’s Hill Pharmacy, which strictly speaking, was in town- just not in the center). I was on one of my comic buying adventures, along with a forgotten friend, when I bought a book filled with single panel cartoons, the type you see in the New Yorker, and apparently, the type you would see in Playboy.

I brought it home thinking that this was a pretty good investment, at least as good as the latest Batman. When Dad got a look at it, he thought it was hysterical. Mom was mortified. Dad did the obligatory, “They actually sold you this? I should call them!” However, being Dad, he didn’t- and anyway, the impact was lost since he was still laughing. Mom was still disgusted.

Clearly, there was more to this purchase than what I appreciated. Sure there were some naked butts and stuff. And some of the jokes were funny- but they weren’t that funny. Heck, most of them I didn’t even get. But, from the reactions, I knew I had something- and it was either trouble or pure gold- depending on which parent I looked at.

I folded the thing twice and squeezed it into my toy safe. Occasionally I would pull it out and take another look at it, trying to figure out what the big deal was. I never really did figure it out and eventually I lost interest and went back to my regular comics. At least they were in color.

This leaves Brigham’s and Harvey’s Hardware. Brigham’s was, and probably still is, for all I know- a restaurant along the line of Friendly's. It surprises me to see it at this location. I don’t remember it being here, but then, no matter where it was, I don’t remember ever going in there. Similar to grocery shopping, it wasn’t on my radar back then.

Harvey’s Hardware was one of two hardware stores in town. The other, Allen Hardware, was the one Dad and I usually went to. The only thing I remember about Harvey’s was that I somehow decided to stroll through it one day, only to get hassled by some old guy that worked there. When I got home, I told Dad about it. He took me back to the hardware store to complain about it and whoever it was he talked to, they apologized for their grouchy father.

I learned an important lesson from that day when Dad dragged me back to the hardware store, which was: Selling a kid a cartoon book of risque cartoons wasn't the end of the world. But accusing my kid of doing something shifty? That needed to be dealt with.

In other words, it's all about priorities.

Memories are like some arbitrary string of frames, snipped out of the middle of a film. They happen to take place at some random point in time in the world's evolution, which really is no more or no less important than any other point time- in a long reel of film.

I think about that town, and a large part of what made those places so special is that they just happened coincide my youth.

More Flea Market Conversations

Middle aged man trying to sell a pair of used blue jeans to another middle aged man, who's holding them at eye level, thinking it over: "Damn it, just put 'em over your head! If they fit around your neck, they'll fit around your waist!"

Friday Night Video

Tonight, it was a toss-up between a Science fiction clip and a Batman clip. I was going to go with the Science Fiction, because, after all, it has been at least a couple of days since I've posed anything from that genre.

But then, I wanted to go with a Batman clip because it relates, in an off kilter way, to an anecdote from today. The problem is, I don't feel like writing about it right now.

What to do, what to do? I know! How about a Beach Boys clip instead?



There. All better.

Flower Garden

Flea Market Conversations

Guy selling knives to prospective customer: "You know what the number one murder weapon in America is? The hammer, that's what! That's right- the plain old ordinary carpenter's hammer!"

Friday Night Video

Back to my old self tonight... for better or worse. Thank you everyone for your letters of concern.

Tonight we have a clip from Walt Disney's "Wonderful World of Color" (or one of it's iterations). This was an event in our house on Sunday nights. At least it felt that way when I was a kid.

This clip is a compilation of scenes from "The Scarecrow of Romney Marsh"- a multi-part show which was good for several months of bad dreams in my then semi-innocent young mind. Best of all, it stared the great Patrick McGoohan. Second best of all, this clip has the dynamic theme song. Feel free to sing along...

Around Town With Sam

Friday Night Video

Felt pretty awful all week. This is all I have for you tonight...

Friday Night Video

I don't have a whole lot to say tonight, so before I go back to the previous post to fix some spelling (yeah, right), etc, how about eleven minutes of The Crane Wife?

Road Trip- Part Three

It’s always been hard for me to describe the place that Ellie holds in my life. She’s my aunt, but she’s always seemed closer than that. She’s the one that disappeared into the basement on Christmas morning and put my new train set together. She drove cool little cars before they were popular. She likes gadgets and did wood carving and had her own little workshop in the basements of her two previous homes. The first mechanical pencil I ever owned came from her. I always look forward to seeing Ellie and it had been a couple of years since she was last up in my area for a visit.

This trip to see Ellie was pretty last minute. I wasn't sure how long I would be with Rachael and while I was kind of "in the neighborhood", it was still a five hour plus or minus ride away. But Rachael was ready get her own things in order, so I called Ellie the day before and asked if she would mind if I stopped by.

I headed to Ellie’s after stopping for gas and flowers- arriving around 1:30. Ellie lives in a sprawling retirement community that sits like a small town within the city of Asheville. I had only been at her "new" place once before, and that was twenty-five years ago. Back then, it was under construction. I had remembered it being a little further up the hill and on the other side of the street so I was surprised when my infallible GPS told me it was a few houses sooner than I expected.

Stepping into Ellie's place is a little like stepping pack into the past. It’s not that it looks old or anything like that, but it’s filled with things that I associate with years gone by- the furniture, the paintings, it all carries memories- fond memories. We sat down in her living room- her on the chair, me on the couch, and chatted. The clock still hangs on the wall but unfortunately it no longer strikes the quarter hour. The couch is the same pull-out couch I had spent the night on back in the Biltmore days. Across from the couch, is the table I used to play under back in Biltmore. It, along with the couch cushions, served as my fort. And when it wasn't my fort, it was my spaceship. I would play under it with cheap little plastic cars that I thought were the best. I was looking at this table as Ellie and I sat and talked and for the first time that I've visited as an adult, I refrained from commenting on how that table was so much lower than I remembered. Still, as I sat on the couch, it was hard not to keep looking over at it, remembering.

Ellie asked about sightseeing, but I wasn't particularly interested. Part of the reason was that I was only going to be there for the night, part was that I really didn't want to put her out more than I already was. But a big reason was the lack of anyone else to share seeing the sites with. So... maybe another time- when Ellie doesn't have to get dragged around, and I'm not alone.

Instead of sightseeing, Ellie went with me to the grocery store, where I bought some country ham for Mom and myself. Later, she gave me a tour of the community’s main building, and then we ate in their dining hall. Afterwards, we sat quietly in her den, watching a little TV before going to bed. I think that sometimes sharing the everyday stuff can be more enjoyable than racing around. At least, it was fine with me.

At bedtime, I slept across from my old fort, on the same pull-out couch that I had over forty-five years ago- the same couch where Nona sat on the edge, scratching my back, while Ellie set up the nightlight with the little dog house and glowing dog, and stopped the pendulum on the clock that no longer bongs..

Morning came early, as I guess it always does. Ellie got up, already dressed like usual. She offered breakfast, but I was going to get going. I would be heading home and I wasn't sure how far I would make it in one day. We said our “Goodbyes” and I checked my route one more time on my GPS one more time before leaving.

For all the memories the mountains of North Carolina hold for me, one of the strongest is sharing the early morning view of them on a long ride home with Mom. We were driving a Uhaul filled with Mom's memories and I remember climbing the mountains in the predawn hours and seeing the clouds and mist hanging low in the valleys. The ride was long and the truck was a problem the whole way home, but it was an adventure that we shared.

The GPS was taking me home a slightly different way than when Mom and I had left that time twenty-five years ago. Back then, it seemed like we headed a little more east before turning north for the long ride home. In any case, I was glad to see that it had me avoiding New York City by going further north before leading me home. Also back then, Mom and I had left a couple of hours earlier than I was leaving now. Back then, it was dark when we left. Now, the sun was already up as I was leaving- but the mountains were beautiful nonetheless, and they remind me of Mom.

I drove for hours, and frankly, most of it was a blur. My time was spent looking for radio stations or upcoming gas stations, or checking the projected time remaining on my trip and trying to decide where I would stop for the night.

As I drove into the afternoon, the traffic was getting heavier and more aggressive. Part of this was due to the time of day, part was due, I assume, to being further north. By the time I reached the New Jersey Turnpike, spending the night at a hotel, became a borderline decision. I started thinking about landmarks and weighing them against the time. “I’ll just get past___”, I’d think, “and then I’ll decide....” And I would do this over and over again and it just became even more borderline each time.

Somewhere around this time, it became apparent that my GPS was "helping me out" by changing it’s mind-and rerouting me across the George Washington Bridge. I'm no expert on driving to, or avoiding New York City, but I was pretty sure this spelled trouble. This realization came over me in a wave- the same kind of wave I get when I realize I've broken a tooth- I can feel the heat rise from the pit of my stomach and shoot upwards into my head, just like one of those cartoon animals that turns into a thermometer, right before the back of their head blows off. On the bright side, at least it was rush hour... and I was in a rush. 

As I approach the bridge and the city, I found myself cramming through toll booths in the "cash only" lane and I had no idea how much cash I was supposed to have. Choking through, exit ramps were coming up faster than the GPS could tell me what to do. But soon enough, things changed. Traffic was snarled. It was obvious that if I wasn't in the correct lane for whatever I had to do next, I was screwed. Working my way over the bridge- like a rat in a snake, my GPS started barking helpful directions, like "Continue straight and then take ramp ahead", like somehow I could do anything other than go straight when I'm on a bridge. And "take ramp ahead"? What was that supposed to mean? Which ramp? From where I was sitting, it looked like there about twenty of them. Traffic started to pick up (kind of)- and I still had no idea where I'm going.
 

"Take Ramp Ahead"

Through some miracle, as I came off of the bridge, I managed to make it around a tangle of exit right and exit left ramps, only to be carried along by the surrounding traffic- like one of those out-of-control coal cars that careens through the coal mine. I glanced at my GPS and I saw that I had an hour more to go than I did an hour ago. That, plus the "Heavy Traffic" warning on my GPS was now lit up. "No kidding", I thought, "This was your idea". By now, I was beginning to resent my GPS. I had been lied to.

Somehow, SOMEHOW, I was eventually dumped onto the same parkway that I had traveled on before. While I wouldn't go as far as to say it was always a leisurely drive in the past, at least it hadn't been completely jam-packed with lunatics. Things were looking up. It offered a vague sense of familiarity, even if it was in name only. I took it as a positive sign. I would have taken anything at that point.

Unfortunately, the illusion of security, along with the hope of ever seeing home again, was short lived. The scenic through-way that only moments before had offered a sense of relief, had now turned into a stop and go kind of hell. Mostly the "stop" kind. Traffic was either at a standstill or going eighty miles an hour. There was nothing in between- other than acceleration or braking. What was going on? Was there an accident ahead?" At first, I was concerned. Then, I figured if it was an accident, it better be a good one. Finally, I couldn't care less. The GPS had added another hour onto my arrival time, and I was sitting still.

My GPS has a heavy traffic warning on it. I had always thought this worked by telling you that there is an "X" minute delay ahead, and then helpfully highlighted your route on the map. I've seen it do this before, but now I was thinking that this must only be for normal heavy traffic. Apparently, what it does for insanely heavy traffic, is that it waits while you just sitting there, and then, when you're finally able to accelerate, and you get up to somewhere around forty miles per hour, it starts spitting out: "Recalculating!...Recalculating!...", in a somewhat panicky voice. This was designed to do nothing more than raise my blood pressure. There were no exits around; there was nowhere else to go. Then, suddenly it stopped, and I'm stopped once again as well-still stuck on the exact same route.

Eventually though, the GPS did divert me. Where, I can't say- I have no idea. All I knew is I was moving somewhere down in lower Connecticut. Time-wise, my arrival at home was predicted to be about two hours away. Privately, I sneered at the GPS. I knew I had been lied to again.

It had long since turned dark and my head felt like it was going to explode. The only thing that kept me going was my anger at the GPS. That, and the fact that wherever I was, they didn't have any hotels.

At least the traffic was moving and for the first time in a while, my projected arrival time seemed to be getting closer instead of moving away. I decided to give my GPS one more chance, even though I was still mad at it.

Driving along, I recognized other cars that had been stuck in the same traffic jam along with me. We're all scattering down the highway like flies let out of a box- just happy to be free. I wove through various road construction sites, before finally seeing signs of places I recognized. Home was now a short hour and a half away.

The rest of the ride, thankfully, was uneventful. I pulled into the driveway, relived to finally be home... or anywhere, really- anywhere except the highway. It felt like forever ago since I left Ellie's house. It felt even longer since leaving Rachael.

Going inside, I found that Sam and Helaina were still awake. It was good to see them and I was glad to be able to home in time to put Sam to bed.

I unpacked my stuff, bringing in my little bag of luggage and then sliding the country ham slices out of the dry ice and into the refrigerator. I took in the bags of chips that I bought when I was grocery shopping with Rachael, and I grabbed the pile of brochures that I picked up for Mom at the North Carolina Welcome Center.  I left the GPS in the car though. We'ld been through a lot together in the last few days, and at times, it got a little rough. Things were said that neither of us meant, and I think we both needed to cool off.

Friday Night Video

As I've mentioned plenty of times throughout here, my family and I spent a lot of our summers in North Carolina. One of the may things we would do is spend time at the Recreation Park in Asheville. Now, I'm not one for the water, also noted in plenty of places throughout here, but there were not only other fun things to do there, quite often it meant that I could watch a little TV when I got back to Nona's house.

For some odd reason, I don't remember missing TV all that much when we were there- maybe Mom remembers it differently. But even if you wanted to watch TV, I think my grandmother got like one station, this being in the mountains and in the days before cable and all.

The one and only show I remember watching was "The Adventures of Superman". This was the show with the real Superman, George Reeves, not some of those pretty by wanna be's that came along later (not that George wasn't pretty).

I remember being totally enthralled with the show, particularly the parts where he was either flying, staring to fly, or landing- the rest was pretty much filler. The only thing better were the Fleischer cartoons- also written about elsewhere.

Below, in an effort to share a little of that magic, is the first episode of the series. Enjot.

Tully Lake

The above photo was taken while on a canoe with Sam and Sam's Uncle Jimmy. When it comes to activities in or on the water, Sam and I are of one mind. That is, Dear God get us back to dry land.

Still, we had a nice visit

Road Trip- Part Two

Compared to the drive from home to Louisville, the ride to Asheville should easier. And by easier, I mean shorter. If it weren't for the fact that I was by myself, I might even go out on a limb and say it would be fun. Leaving Louisville in an empty van, both in terms of possessions and people, made it lonely, depressing and deathly quiet. The cloudy morning didn't help. But at least the traffic was light, so that was something... I guess.

The rain let up slowly as I made my way east- eventually melting away to sunshine as I got to North Carolina ("Naturally", I think Mom would say). Wisps of clouds hung below the mountaintops and the low angle of the sun cast sharp shadows on the opposing mountain faces. It's been twenty-five years since I was last here. Back then, I was moving stuff with Mom from my aunt's house to bring home to Mom's. My Aunt Ellie was moving to a retirement community and that's where I was headed now.

Driving through the mountains was beautiful and felt like it hadn't been that long since I was here last. The mountains remind me a little of home. The difference is they're much taller here. When you look at the hills at home, you see sky in the distance. Here, you see a couple of more rows of taller and taller mountains.

I remembered the winding, steep inclines of the highway and the domed tunnels that snake under the mountains. What caught me off guard is how much more pronounced my fear of heights has gotten over the years. Looking at the mountains in the distance is one thing. Looking over the edge of the road and not seeing anything is something else. Every time I came to a bridge or drove next to a ravine, I broke out in a sweat, clutched the steering wheel and tried to concentrate only on the road ahead and not be sucked into the scenery beside and below me.

Me trying to snap a photo and not careen off the mountainside.

I had forgotten about my ears popping with the change in altitude. I hadn't forgotten about the smell. There's a certain smell along the thickly wooded portions of the countryside, and I remember it clearly from my youth. What is it from? I had always thought it was due to the the mills in the area. But I'm assuming that the mills have left here, like they have most other places. Is it something to do with the damp forests or the kudzu that blankets the hills? Whatever the reason, it instantly takes me back to my grandmother's yard in Biltmore years and years ago.

I decided to get off an exit earlier than I had to, so I could see the area in Biltmore where my grandmother's house used to be. I knew the area had changed, but I still wanted to take a look- mostly for the relationships the home had to other landmarks in the area.

The Biltmore Dairy was as close to Nona's house as I remember it to be, though it is no longer the Biltmore Dairy. Rather, it is just one more of the homogenous restaurants that you can find anywhere else in the country. A little further down on the right was the church Mom and Dad got married in. And then back to the left a little further still, is the gate to the Biltmore House & Gardens. Nona's house used to be over on the left, closer to the church than the gate. The woods behind the stores that are squeezed into where the house used to be, still look familiar, and a part of me wishes I could explore them to maybe find a brick from the old barbecue pit or some gravel from the driveway. But it's better that I don't. It's better to think that they're in there somewhere, sitting unnoticed as a silent monument to what the area once was.

I drove across the bridge that goes over the train yard. These were the tracks we rode into town on many, many years ago. This was the bridge we had to stop on on one of our many excursions during that same era. A storm had moved in and the hail that came with it was so blinding, my grandmother had to pull over and we waited it out. I couldn't imagine doing something like that now, since it is now a major throughway.

I took a last look before turning around and getting back on the highway to go to Ellie's.