Many things that I once observed and even some that I engaged are no longer part of our American landscape; let me explain. Use to be that most young boys and many adult men sported the crew-cut/flat top hair fashions. Yesteryear's summer evenings found a lot of folks sitting on porches or visiting in backyards. Neither no more.
I don't notice adolescent boys riding bikes with a baseball glove 'looped' on the handlebars and the ends of a baseball bat precariously held at each bike handle grip. These days, I walk many sidewalks in my neighborhood but no longer do I see hop-scotch or four-square chalk markings. It has been a long time since hearing the evening voices of children calling out "Mother May I? " or "anti-anti-over." I suppose some current youth-obesity connects with the demise of 'Duck Duck Goose, Red Rover and Leap Frog.' No longer do young kids play tag and should one wish to purchase marbles today, the best bet is going to an antique shop. 'Pitchin' pennies and throwing tennis balls against walls and steps to hone eye-hand-catching' skills is no more. Speaking of eye-hand quickness, I suspect those young girls of my generation developed fast hands playing endless games of 'Jacks.' Been decades since I've heard the 'clanking' sound of a neighbor's horse shoe banging against the iron peg and just as long since seeing a neighborhood men fussing over rules of a croquet game.
I once read that from 1948 through 1958, America could count over 3,000 drive-in theaters; I supported a few drive-in theaters in East St. Louis from '54-to-'57. Actually, I only 'saw' one movie at the drive-in...It seemed wrong that particularly Friday night to 'make-out' with my girlfriend while Moses was parting the Red Sea in the movie, Ten Commandments. Some of those 1948 autos had 'running-boards' while most of the 1950's models showed off big white-wall tires with fender-skirts mud flaps. 'Curb-finders' were a must to protect scratching those beautiful white wall tires. Every night was cruise-night.
Metropolitan cities use to have real-live cops at busy intersections directing the rush hour traffic; some of those officers put on a magnificent show.
I think Tuesdays at 10 A.M. is the time many communities, nowadays 'test' their sirens with long blasts; I recall the 9 P.M. siren sounding each evening back in the Washington Park in 1950. I always believed our parents were in cahoots with the local police to signal the time for us kids to get off the streets and back in the house.
My church has air conditioning today so I won't find any funeral fans in the pews and I can expect to get out of service on time since we don't offend church-folks with those 'come-forward-and surrender-your life to Jesus' alter invitations.
I believe after my morning coffee on the backyard swing, I'll head to the mall and see if I can find a pair of 'white-buck' shoes. Later, I intend to go find a hedge apples.
Monday, July 29, 2013
Friday, July 26, 2013
Showing Some Skin?
Sometime ago, a couple of my kids made comments about the skin on my forehead; the skin they said looked rough to them. One kid went so far as to compare my skin to that of an alligator, which I thought was rather harsh but considering their DNA, I understand the directness.
Anyway, our family medical doctor explained to me that my children were simply noticing some 'fatty-deposits.' The doctor further stated, " the aging process often leaves the fatty-deposits on our bodies." He even went so far as to suggest that I likely have similar fatty-deposits on other parts of my body. That conclusion makes sense to me considering the fact that my skin, on all parts of this body, is the 'same age.' This also means that I soon can expect my ass to look like my face. In the near future, my wife will be confused seeing me naked in the bathroom; she won't know if I entering or leaving the shower.
Speaking of human skin; I would offer the following:
1) A woman with bosom stretch marks that resemble an LA city road map should not wear low cut blouses.
2 )Regardless of a man's weightlifting prowess, he should not wear cut off shirts in public restaurants.
3) Speaking of cut off shirts; women who choose not to shave underarms should also pass on this attire. (Exception: if she is a pit member at the county fair's stock car races).
4) Those with toenails the color of field corn should pass on open toed sandals.
5) People over the age 40 should only wear mid-drifts 25 feet from a large body of water.
6) Skin tattoos should not have arrows that point to functioning body parts.
I was thinking about wearing a baseball cap to cover my forehead's fatty deposits but I don't have either of the two ball caps apparently acceptable in public restaurants: John Deere or NASCAR. Right Bubba!
Anyway, our family medical doctor explained to me that my children were simply noticing some 'fatty-deposits.' The doctor further stated, " the aging process often leaves the fatty-deposits on our bodies." He even went so far as to suggest that I likely have similar fatty-deposits on other parts of my body. That conclusion makes sense to me considering the fact that my skin, on all parts of this body, is the 'same age.' This also means that I soon can expect my ass to look like my face. In the near future, my wife will be confused seeing me naked in the bathroom; she won't know if I entering or leaving the shower.
Speaking of human skin; I would offer the following:
1) A woman with bosom stretch marks that resemble an LA city road map should not wear low cut blouses.
2 )Regardless of a man's weightlifting prowess, he should not wear cut off shirts in public restaurants.
3) Speaking of cut off shirts; women who choose not to shave underarms should also pass on this attire. (Exception: if she is a pit member at the county fair's stock car races).
4) Those with toenails the color of field corn should pass on open toed sandals.
5) People over the age 40 should only wear mid-drifts 25 feet from a large body of water.
6) Skin tattoos should not have arrows that point to functioning body parts.
I was thinking about wearing a baseball cap to cover my forehead's fatty deposits but I don't have either of the two ball caps apparently acceptable in public restaurants: John Deere or NASCAR. Right Bubba!
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Disgustingly Phony!
'Look what they've done to 'my game.' A phrase not so unlike, in meaning, with the 1970's folk song, 'Look What They've Done to My Song;' the intentional meaning carries similar messages and that is: people can take something good and beautiful and turn it into ugly trash...and so it is with the American sport scene!!
Pro baseball player, Ryan Braun won the National League MVP Award a couple of years ago and now he is suspended for the remaining games (2013) for substance abuse. Barry Bonds the 185lb rookie baseball player for the Pirates surpassed most of Babe Ruth and Hank Aaron's home run records when he retired from the Giants after a 22-year career, weighing 235lbs. Bonds claims that his metamorphosis body change occurred due to dedicated weight work. What a hard working guy that Barry Bonds fella.
Thousands of high school graduating seniors sweat out GPA's and test scores hoping to measure up to entry requirements at prestigious American universities only to see 'dumb' athletes get tuition free scholarships and their coaches make millions. We would note that many of today's college athletes end up in trouble with the law and many more fail to graduate. Our Division I Universities are stepping stones for a lot of street-punks to the pros while their hypocritical institutions make millions from NCAA playoffs.
Recently, I have followed a collegiate (summer) baseball league and note another disturbing trend. Our sport society is beginning to promote ill-mannered activities, bad behavior and less than positive sportsmanship attitudes. I advance the following scenario, which occurs at Springfield Sliders home games and Quincy Gems home games: A player from the visiting team is selected at the start of the game and his name given out by the public address announcer as the individual who, if goes hit less, will cause folks in attendance to receive free sandwiches at a local fast food restaurant. That's correct, we create a frenzy of negative cheering against one amateur baseball player. The crowd yells and screams for this player's failure each at bat appearance; the payoff is a 630 calorie burger for the fat-ass fans. These same glutinous losers likely never stood sixty feet away from a pitcher throwing a 93-mile per hour fast ball and these clowns would literally shit their pants facing a 2-to-8 curve ball that is coming at the batters head but breaks 12-inches over the plate! Go sit down fools and try NOT to show your ignorance.
Hypocrisy abounds; it is everywhere. Major League baseball continues its ban on Hall-of-Fame worthy, Pete Rose for betting on games but welcomes back into the game players who cheat with steroid use. Our distinguished officials and leaders read sportsmanship creeds before high school and college games and then laugh at and taunt opponents who fail in noble attempts. Shame on our shabby care taking of our youths' games. Shame on our misstated mission statements, which are trumped by our actions; actions that are disgusting.
Only we narcissistic, self-centered and self-indulged Americans would take 'pause' from such disgusting behavior to put our beer down and stand in the seventh inning to sing, "God Bless America." Oh my, I am sure that God cannot wait to bless His Americans; after all, we are His favorite people.
Oh, I just thought of another song to which we give lip service;. "They Will Know We Are Christians By Our Love."
Pro baseball player, Ryan Braun won the National League MVP Award a couple of years ago and now he is suspended for the remaining games (2013) for substance abuse. Barry Bonds the 185lb rookie baseball player for the Pirates surpassed most of Babe Ruth and Hank Aaron's home run records when he retired from the Giants after a 22-year career, weighing 235lbs. Bonds claims that his metamorphosis body change occurred due to dedicated weight work. What a hard working guy that Barry Bonds fella.
Thousands of high school graduating seniors sweat out GPA's and test scores hoping to measure up to entry requirements at prestigious American universities only to see 'dumb' athletes get tuition free scholarships and their coaches make millions. We would note that many of today's college athletes end up in trouble with the law and many more fail to graduate. Our Division I Universities are stepping stones for a lot of street-punks to the pros while their hypocritical institutions make millions from NCAA playoffs.
Recently, I have followed a collegiate (summer) baseball league and note another disturbing trend. Our sport society is beginning to promote ill-mannered activities, bad behavior and less than positive sportsmanship attitudes. I advance the following scenario, which occurs at Springfield Sliders home games and Quincy Gems home games: A player from the visiting team is selected at the start of the game and his name given out by the public address announcer as the individual who, if goes hit less, will cause folks in attendance to receive free sandwiches at a local fast food restaurant. That's correct, we create a frenzy of negative cheering against one amateur baseball player. The crowd yells and screams for this player's failure each at bat appearance; the payoff is a 630 calorie burger for the fat-ass fans. These same glutinous losers likely never stood sixty feet away from a pitcher throwing a 93-mile per hour fast ball and these clowns would literally shit their pants facing a 2-to-8 curve ball that is coming at the batters head but breaks 12-inches over the plate! Go sit down fools and try NOT to show your ignorance.
Hypocrisy abounds; it is everywhere. Major League baseball continues its ban on Hall-of-Fame worthy, Pete Rose for betting on games but welcomes back into the game players who cheat with steroid use. Our distinguished officials and leaders read sportsmanship creeds before high school and college games and then laugh at and taunt opponents who fail in noble attempts. Shame on our shabby care taking of our youths' games. Shame on our misstated mission statements, which are trumped by our actions; actions that are disgusting.
Only we narcissistic, self-centered and self-indulged Americans would take 'pause' from such disgusting behavior to put our beer down and stand in the seventh inning to sing, "God Bless America." Oh my, I am sure that God cannot wait to bless His Americans; after all, we are His favorite people.
Oh, I just thought of another song to which we give lip service;. "They Will Know We Are Christians By Our Love."
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Lucky and Blessed
There is not enough time or ink to list all the ways God has blessed me. Let me just touch on the very fact that I beat many odds and should not be living at age 74. I explain:
Through the years, I ate much cheese and tuna fish from a can. My tuna-fish sandwich with mayo (school lunch) sat in my hot metal-locker from 7:30 A.M. until noon many days. As a young boy, I went barefoot wading and tubed for catfish in water moccasin infested lakes and I ate crawdads from creeks with suspect sewage. My mother told me that as a baby, I slept on my tummy in cribs covered with lead-base paint. I am sure the child proof medicine bottles were unheard.
My adolescent years saw me hitchhiking or riding my bike throughout the 80 thousand East St. Louis residents in a total state of denial that any harm could come to a 12-year old city boy. Those little league baseball teams had tryouts and some kids did not make the team; they dealt with the disappointment...imagine that. I don't remember but I am sure that I stood in the front seat of my parents' auto unrestrained; I do recall standing in the back of dad's pickup truck. If thirsty enough, I disregarded mother's advice 'not to put my mouth on the public ball diamond fountain.' I have eaten tons of white bread, too many cup cakes, enough sugar drinks to float the Queen Mary, real butter and a pig-farm of fried bacon. The amazing aspect of this life style left me skinny because I was one 'active' boy in perpetual motion.
As a young boy, I left the house in summer months at about 9 A.M. and returned for the supper hour. My mother could not contact me during the day; no one could possibly know my whereabouts. I did not have sophisticated toys but entertained myself with 'homemade' spinner games and board games.
I never heard of lawsuits but I did have firsthand information about the omnipotence of the law, teachers and clergy. I also knew that a belt could be used for something other than 'holding' up my father's trousers.
The aforementioned reminiscences is not a brag or boast. They are occurrences, which defy seventy-four years.
Through the years, I ate much cheese and tuna fish from a can. My tuna-fish sandwich with mayo (school lunch) sat in my hot metal-locker from 7:30 A.M. until noon many days. As a young boy, I went barefoot wading and tubed for catfish in water moccasin infested lakes and I ate crawdads from creeks with suspect sewage. My mother told me that as a baby, I slept on my tummy in cribs covered with lead-base paint. I am sure the child proof medicine bottles were unheard.
My adolescent years saw me hitchhiking or riding my bike throughout the 80 thousand East St. Louis residents in a total state of denial that any harm could come to a 12-year old city boy. Those little league baseball teams had tryouts and some kids did not make the team; they dealt with the disappointment...imagine that. I don't remember but I am sure that I stood in the front seat of my parents' auto unrestrained; I do recall standing in the back of dad's pickup truck. If thirsty enough, I disregarded mother's advice 'not to put my mouth on the public ball diamond fountain.' I have eaten tons of white bread, too many cup cakes, enough sugar drinks to float the Queen Mary, real butter and a pig-farm of fried bacon. The amazing aspect of this life style left me skinny because I was one 'active' boy in perpetual motion.
As a young boy, I left the house in summer months at about 9 A.M. and returned for the supper hour. My mother could not contact me during the day; no one could possibly know my whereabouts. I did not have sophisticated toys but entertained myself with 'homemade' spinner games and board games.
I never heard of lawsuits but I did have firsthand information about the omnipotence of the law, teachers and clergy. I also knew that a belt could be used for something other than 'holding' up my father's trousers.
The aforementioned reminiscences is not a brag or boast. They are occurrences, which defy seventy-four years.
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Hey, What's the Hold Up?
For the previous eight-months, I have been doing a great deal of cooking. I enjoy experimenting with all kinds of foods, recipes and marinating; I leave nothing to guess. I truly embrace the activity and I especially like cooking for my wife. Of course, I now spend a lot of time in the grocery stores, spice shops and the cookware department. Often times when shopping, my worse disposition shows; I detest line-waiting and I seemingly always make the wrong 'choice' when selecting the check-out lane. Invariably, the shorter line will develop 'issues' by the time I arrive at the conveyor belt. Just yesterday, I was at a local grocery store and I elected to get into a lane that had only three people ahead of me and they each had few items. Good choice? Nope!
Here was the first problem that I noticed too late in the lane-game; there was a very attractive young girl working cashier duties in lane 7 and the cashier boy in my lane (8) had serious hormonal issues; the lad kept making cash register entry errors because he could not take his eyes off the dolly. I then noticed that the elderly lady in front had a ticket bill of $17.93 She was on a mission from hell sifting through her purse items, which she dumped onto the counter searching for three pennies. What is it about, old-farts and exact change?
The next lady, in front of me, questioned nearly every item's price claiming the item was 'on sale.' Finally, the last lady checked out and her bill came to one hundred ninety-seven dollars and 42 cents. She tried three different plastic cards and all three were rejected. She walked out of the store and I waited for a clerk to remove the abandoned cart before I paid for my lettuce, spinach, frozen mango and toilet paper.
I have been known to leave grocery lines when such nonsense erupts. My tolerance runs thin and I can get a little red-ass with people; however, this particular time I did not want to end up with red-ass...we were out of toilet paper back at the crib.
Here was the first problem that I noticed too late in the lane-game; there was a very attractive young girl working cashier duties in lane 7 and the cashier boy in my lane (8) had serious hormonal issues; the lad kept making cash register entry errors because he could not take his eyes off the dolly. I then noticed that the elderly lady in front had a ticket bill of $17.93 She was on a mission from hell sifting through her purse items, which she dumped onto the counter searching for three pennies. What is it about, old-farts and exact change?
The next lady, in front of me, questioned nearly every item's price claiming the item was 'on sale.' Finally, the last lady checked out and her bill came to one hundred ninety-seven dollars and 42 cents. She tried three different plastic cards and all three were rejected. She walked out of the store and I waited for a clerk to remove the abandoned cart before I paid for my lettuce, spinach, frozen mango and toilet paper.
I have been known to leave grocery lines when such nonsense erupts. My tolerance runs thin and I can get a little red-ass with people; however, this particular time I did not want to end up with red-ass...we were out of toilet paper back at the crib.
Monday, July 22, 2013
Sex: America's Fascination
I suppose I should never expect to be 'shock-proof' but at my age and given my vast experiences, I would think that I'd be somewhat insulated from 'surprises.' I am not and yesterday morning presented a real television-viewing moment shocker.
I returned to the house from some early morning produce shopping when I walked into the family room to join my wife with a cup of coffee. My wife was taking a break from the morning flower watering chores. The television was on and co-hosts Kathy Lee and Hoda were blabbing away and giggling. As I settled into my chair my wife said, "You are not going to believe what these two gals are talking about." Kathy Lee was doing exaggerated facial contortions while Hoda was waving a 12-inch ruler about attempting to show Katy Lee what the measurement 5 1/2 inches looked like. Kathy Lee inquired of Hoda, "Is that an erect Johnson?" I looked at my wife and said, "You gotta be kidding me; 10;30 A.M. on a major network?" I know the morning newspaper has movie listings with 'rating- numbers' and I remember all seven words that the late comic, George Carlin told us you cannot 'say' on television. Nevertheless, we have two ladies discussing the size of the male sex organ on T.V. and referencing the penis with the pet-name, 'Johnson.?' The question about average penis 'size' either soft or hard was the subject of a recent 'study.' I do wish we had more money spent on cancer and Alzheimer's studies than such total nonsense as sex-organ size.
Years ago, Virginia Slim cigarette commercials targeted the female market. The company producing Virginia Slims had a catch phrase about the modern day transformation of the American female; The slogan was "You've come a long way, baby." I suppose women have 'come' a long way. Women now may dress like a man, curse like a man, deface their bodies with tattoo markings initiate relationships and share date expenses with a man. I expect women will not be offended when men begin television discussions about breast and vagina sizes.
I understand that a popular segment on the Kathy Lee & Hoda Show is a 'make-over' moment. Periodically, they select a couple of gals from the streets and do one of those before and after make overs. I believe the day is fast approaching when Hoda may whip out her 'ruler' and settle the new segment question, "Which of these two guys has the biggest 'Johnson?'
I returned to the house from some early morning produce shopping when I walked into the family room to join my wife with a cup of coffee. My wife was taking a break from the morning flower watering chores. The television was on and co-hosts Kathy Lee and Hoda were blabbing away and giggling. As I settled into my chair my wife said, "You are not going to believe what these two gals are talking about." Kathy Lee was doing exaggerated facial contortions while Hoda was waving a 12-inch ruler about attempting to show Katy Lee what the measurement 5 1/2 inches looked like. Kathy Lee inquired of Hoda, "Is that an erect Johnson?" I looked at my wife and said, "You gotta be kidding me; 10;30 A.M. on a major network?" I know the morning newspaper has movie listings with 'rating- numbers' and I remember all seven words that the late comic, George Carlin told us you cannot 'say' on television. Nevertheless, we have two ladies discussing the size of the male sex organ on T.V. and referencing the penis with the pet-name, 'Johnson.?' The question about average penis 'size' either soft or hard was the subject of a recent 'study.' I do wish we had more money spent on cancer and Alzheimer's studies than such total nonsense as sex-organ size.
Years ago, Virginia Slim cigarette commercials targeted the female market. The company producing Virginia Slims had a catch phrase about the modern day transformation of the American female; The slogan was "You've come a long way, baby." I suppose women have 'come' a long way. Women now may dress like a man, curse like a man, deface their bodies with tattoo markings initiate relationships and share date expenses with a man. I expect women will not be offended when men begin television discussions about breast and vagina sizes.
I understand that a popular segment on the Kathy Lee & Hoda Show is a 'make-over' moment. Periodically, they select a couple of gals from the streets and do one of those before and after make overs. I believe the day is fast approaching when Hoda may whip out her 'ruler' and settle the new segment question, "Which of these two guys has the biggest 'Johnson?'
Saturday, July 20, 2013
Never a Ball & Chain
I am certain that many who read this blog come to believe that perhaps I 'harp' on some subjects a tad too often, i.e., cell phones usage and especially, cell phone use in the presence of others, which is rude manners. I make no apologies for those previously expressed attitudes nor do I back off of the following; I told you so moment!
Kent State University just completed a study (wasting money) to conclude that those college students who spent 14 hours or more a day on their iPhone were more overweight and less fit than those who spent fewer hours on the iPhone...duh! Anywhere you may go publicly, you cannot help but notice that most folks are 'looking' down towards their handheld gadget (iPhone). Adolescent boys, who once played grab-ass tag now plop their over sized asses on benches and engross themselves texting some other 'puffy' kid while nearby social contact opportunities are ignored. Many times I find myself wishing to engage some of my grandkids in conversation only to notice they are occupied with their cell phone; it transcends bad manners and becomes a missed sharing moment never to present itself again. How very sad.
Just this morning at 6 A.M., I headed out the door for my 45-minute walk before the heat and humidity became unbearable. My wife suggested that I take my cell phone in case of an emergency. I took the phone but I did not turn it on and after I post this blog, I am heading to the backyard swing with the Toy Poodle, Yodie, a cup of coffee and NO PHONE!
Kent State University just completed a study (wasting money) to conclude that those college students who spent 14 hours or more a day on their iPhone were more overweight and less fit than those who spent fewer hours on the iPhone...duh! Anywhere you may go publicly, you cannot help but notice that most folks are 'looking' down towards their handheld gadget (iPhone). Adolescent boys, who once played grab-ass tag now plop their over sized asses on benches and engross themselves texting some other 'puffy' kid while nearby social contact opportunities are ignored. Many times I find myself wishing to engage some of my grandkids in conversation only to notice they are occupied with their cell phone; it transcends bad manners and becomes a missed sharing moment never to present itself again. How very sad.
Just this morning at 6 A.M., I headed out the door for my 45-minute walk before the heat and humidity became unbearable. My wife suggested that I take my cell phone in case of an emergency. I took the phone but I did not turn it on and after I post this blog, I am heading to the backyard swing with the Toy Poodle, Yodie, a cup of coffee and NO PHONE!
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