Flashback Friday #10

A Halloween Thriller

In my first edition of Flashback Friday I told my faithful readers that sometimes you would have jump the timeline with me. This is one of those time, because with this being Halloween, here is my favorite Halloween story as a child.

We fast forward six years from my Florida vacation posts. I am now 16, and my brother, Sir Gattabout is in the U.S. Army, stationed at Fort Bragg, NC. Since he moved out, I commandeered his old bedroom, because we had set up a pool table in the other upstairs bedroom (more on that in a future post). When he came home on leave, he would sleep over at old friend's houses, or sleep on the couch. He just happened to come home around Halloween.

Prior to him coming home, some friends and I went to the semi-local movie theater (at the county seat, 25 minutes away), and saw "Halloween". The movie house showed second run movies, and just happened to be showing this movie the week of Halloween. This movie is the grandfather of the slasher movie genre that was HUGE in the 80's, and is still popular today. Probably everyone reading this has seen it, but if you haven't , it is quite the thriller.

As I stated, I saw the movie prior to my brother coming home. When he came home, I asked him if he wanted to go see it. "Nah, I don't do indoor movies (We still had drive-in theaters then). That night, he went out with some friend, while I did my homework, watched TV, and finally went to bed after the news.

If you have never slept in a house with a tin roof, it sounds like someone is walking on the roof when the wind blows. Our house had a tin roof as the main roof, and also as the small roof over our parents bedroom, which was outside my bedroom window.

I woke up about 1AM with what sounded like a terrible storm in the making. "Boy, the wind must really be blowing, it sounds like someone's on the roof". Then the window started rattling. "Man, that wind is really picking up." I thought. Just then the bottom of the window starts to rise, and a leg starts coming slowly into my bedroom.My eyes got really big. I thought my heart would stop. If I wasn't fully awake during the noises, I sure was now! I sprang from my bed and flipped on the light to discover my brother entering my bedroom through my window.

"What are you doing?" I asked. "You nearly scared me to death!" " I forgot my house key when I left." he said. "Since this used to be my room, I figured that Dad hadn't fixed the lock on the window, and I could still unlock it from outside like I used to do when I would come in late. All you have to do is climb onto the fuel oil tank, boost yourself onto the small roof, and slide into the room. I would tell Mom I forgot to wake her when I came in. It sure saved me from a lot of groundings."Needless to say, I was far too wired to get back to sleep.

I only saw a few horror flicks after that, mostly at the request of my girlfriend. With a vivid imagination like I had (And still have), there were people on the roof all the time. I even installed a new lock on the window myself.

I got a call from my brother yesterday. He asked If I was going to be home at 5 PM. I told him that Lady Nottaguy-TYG and I had plans to go out to eat. "That too bad, I was looking out the TV listings, and saw that "The Tingler" was going to be on. I told him that it was probably scarier in my imagination than in real life. He agreed, and we both got a laugh.

You Never Know

We were attending the calling hours of an elderly saint who had gone on to be with the Lord last night. While there we ran into her grandson, who had flown in from Texas for the funeral. He introduced me to his wife as his former bible quizzing coach and Sunday school teacher. She replied "You had him in Sunday school? You poor man." After talking awhile, I found out that he had been elected pastor of a church there in Texas.

Later that night I got to thinking about some of the kids that have been in my Sunday school classes and on the van routes that I drove. I have taught & driven for over 20 years, so I have seen a lot of kids go through my class. It still tickles me to have kids tell me that they don't want to grow older because that means they will have to leave my class.

In addition to the above mentioned pastor, There have also been a wealth of other ministers who have called me teacher. One young man has been an Associate in Missions, preaching and teaching in The United Kingdom (mostly in Scotland) and in Eastern Europe (mostly in the Czech Republic). Current and former church music directors, numerous church musicians, choir members, Sunday school teachers, and bible college students have also been my pupils. In the secular world, nurses, nurses aides, and airports security screeners spent time as youth in my ministries.

I does me good to see the young person who was backward (or perhaps the other extreme) become responsible young adults. You never know what that child in you class will grow to be.

Flashback Friday #9

The Florida Vacation-Conclusion

As I left off on my last Flashback Friday post, we were heading for a motel. I had never been to a motel. I had only seen them on TV. Glamorous places with chandeliers, spiral staircases & bellhops who want to carry your bags.(Oh, those are hotels, I didn't know there was a difference) What we got was a 12 room, single floor plan, with a guy in his undershirt at the front desk. There were two bed, so my brother & I shared a bed (compared to the cozy conditions that we had endured, it felt quite roomy).

Mom & Dad sent us out to the car to bring in the rest of the luggage. My brother handed me a bag and told me to take it to the room. As I turned around, it dawned on me that I didn't remember which room we were in. "Which room is ours?", I asked him. "The second one.", he replied. I opened the door and to my surprise, there was luggage on the bed that didn't belong to us, and nobody was in the room (this is when you still used a key to lock the motel door). I shut the door fast and turned back to my brother. He was practically rolling on the ground in laughter. "I can't believe you went into the wrong room", he howled. Not cool. After the bags were in the room, we were heading to the beach.

When we got to the beach, the gulf was pretty rough, and the waves were coming in three to four feet high. Mom sat on the beach while the rest of us headed to the water. I couldn't swim (still can't), but that didn't stop me from enjoying the Gulf of Mexico, and all the cool shells that were washing up. The sand was a mix of about 60% sand and 40% tiny shells. I collected several larger shells, and put them over by Mom. Once Dad asked my brother where I was. He pointed to a large wave, and said "Keep watching". As the wave crested, then fell, I was seen under it, sputtering, and spitting out salt water. I had bent over to get another shell,and the wave had completely engulfed me. I got my shell, and ran over to where Mom was. As I was running, I stumbled and fell. In doing so, I lacerated my knee on the tiny shells in the sand. As I mentioned, the Gulf is salt water, so the onrushing waves aggravated my injury. It looked like I took a grater to my knee. I thought I was dying.

Well, that ended the fun at the beach. Mom & Dad took me over to Uncle Percy's, and he cleaned my wound and patched me up. I think he was a health care provider, or a former military medic. Dad & my brother went back to the beach, while Mom & I were getting taken care of & calming down.

We visited a lot of the "touristy" sites around there like "Sunken Gardens" and a roadside mini-zoo where you could feed the monkeys by hand. We also went to a place called the shell factory that sold shells (imagine that).

Just before we left to go pick Doris & Bonnie up again, we made one last stop at a beach. This was a different beach, and there wasn't very many people on it. It might have had something to do with it being 11AM on a school day. I was determined to wade to my ankles, while Dad & my brother swam. Mom saw two seagulls, and decided to feed them with some leftover popcorn that was in the car (she loves feeding birds). She was having the best time because those seagulls kept asking for more. Suddenly, were heard Mom scream. We turned, and saw here surrounded by seagulls. There must have been 20 of them, all wanting fed. "Throw the popcorn as far as you can!" hollered Dad. Mom did, and her flock of seagulls scurried away to get it. Mom said she was really scared and it reminded her of the movie "The Birds".

We got back to Violet's house, and got everything packed into the car. All the goodbyes were said and were piled into the car. We were headed back to Ohio with another marathon driving session. We would be doing most of the driving at night because traffic wouldn't be as heavy.

We stopped to eat dinner near the Florida/Georgia border. When we got back in the car, I had a place on the back seat. By the time we got to Georgia, Nigel had fallen asleep, an had scooted me of the seat, unto the floor. I slept through most of Georgia on the floor of the car, not the most comfortable place in the world.

We made it home without incident. Bonnie was dropped off first, then Doris dropped our family off. I liked Florida, but I was glad to be back home. It would be another 25 years or so before I ever made it back to Florida.

Meet Sparky Again

In one of my first posts, I invited you to "Meet Sparky", our fierce dragon, and protector of the realm. Today, I would like you to meet the real thing.

When our old dog "Onyx" passed, we decided that we really didn't want another dog. As the weeks passed, we decided that we were too much "dog-people" not to have another dog roaming the halls of Castle Nottaguy. We contacted the local animal shelter, and told them to give us a call if a small dog came in.

A few weeks later the phone rang, and we were asked to come take a look at a Rat Terrier that had been picked up because the older lady who had it could no longer care for it. She had nine dogs, and she was allowed to keep three. This dog being the smallest, didn't get much food, therefore, he would tear into the neighbors garbage.

He was bigger than what we wanted, but decided to take him anyway. When the worker reached into the kennel to put a leash on him, he bit at the worker. "What kind of crazy dog are we getting?", I asked Lady Nottaguy-TYG. "He's just scared.", she replied. We took the leash, filled out the paperwork, and exited the animal shelter.

When we got to the car, he wouldn't get in. In fact, he vigorously shook himself, and off went the collar & leash. Zoom, he was off & running. I've seen greyhounds that looked slow compared to the speed that he was displaying.

A week & a half later, we get a call from the animal shelter. "We found the dog again, if you still want him, you can come pick him up". We were ready this time. We had picked up a harness to use, instead of a collar. We got to the shelter, put the harness on him, put him in an animal carrier, and got him home. We named him "Sparky" because he reminded us of the small dog in the movie "Beethoven" that bites the bad guy in the rear at the end of the movie.

When I took him into the house, we put him into a back room, with the carrier door open. We checked on him every 10 minutes to see if he had come out yet. After a while, with him still in the carrier, I decided to take him out. Remember the dog shelter worker, I donned gloves, and approached the carrier. GROOOOWL, came the sound from the carrier. Undaunted, I reached in to take him out. In a flurry of snaps, bites & gnaws, I finally got him out of the carrier. It was almost like putting my hands into a food processor.

I lead him out the front door on the leash attached to the harness. I walked him around our landholdings so he could know his property. Since it was January, I didn't want him to get too cold, so we headed back to the house. When we reached the stairs, he had no desire to go back in the house. I gave a small tug on the leash. He responded by shaking like a hula dancer having a seizure. Before I knew what had happened, he had slipped out of the harness, and away he went.
Two weeks later, we get another call from the animal shelter. We had hunted, the area for Sparky to no avail. They found him a mile away. " If you still want this dog, you can pick him up, but if he escapes, and we pick him up again, it will cost you the adoption fee again". Off to the shelter we go again. This time, we have harness and a choker chair (I preferred not to use one, but we were at our wits end). We head Sparky to the car using two leashes (one for the harness, one for the choker chain). When it was time to take him for a walk, we did the same thing. Boy, did we get some strange looks, but he didn't get away.

That night we put him in a downstairs room when we went to bed. Yap yap. Bark bark. Scratch scratch. Whine whine. Lady Nottaguy-TYG said "He sounds lonely, why don't you bring him upstairs to sleep with us?". I looked at her, and said "Are you crazy? This dog just came from the pound. How do you know that he won't rip our throats out while we sleep?". "Go get him." she says. So I go downstairs, open his crate, and coax him upstairs. He follows, and jumps on the bed, rolling over to show us his belly. "See, he is showing us that he trusts us." my wife says. We both pet him for awhile, and allow him to sleep at the foot of the bed.

Now we wish he would stay at the foot. He likes best to work his way between me & my wife. He also likes to sleep under the bedspread. If he gets cold, he will jump off the bed, and pat the side of the bed with his front paw to tell us he wants covered up. My wife spoiled him too much. Whats funny is that if he is under the bedspread, and someone becomes "The Wind Beneath My Sheets", he will jump off, and stay in the other room for a few minutes.

Loud noise also scare him (maybe that's why he jumps off the bed?). During a thunderstorm, or around July 4th, he is a basket case. I was showering one day during a pretty bad storm. BOOM, the thunder crashed, and before I knew it, I had company in the shower. We think that perhaps he was shot at when he was tearing into people's trash, and that's why loud noises scare him. We normally wrap him in a blanket, and sit with him to calm him down

He also HATES radio controlled cars, or any toy car that makes a similar noise. When Ninja John lived with us, he would at times take out his RC car and let Sparky go after it. One year, we found a Christmas train at a yard sale. When we had set up the Christmas tree, I got the train out and set it around the tree, like you see in the old pictures. When I turned the train on, Sparky became "Dogzilla", and ran over, bit the engine, and derailed the train. Oh well, maybe another year.

He may have his quirks & idiosyncrasies, but we love him anyway.

6 Things

My wife tagged my for this meme (I've never memed before, good thing it was my wife). Here are the rules:
1. Link the person who tagged you
2. Mention the rules
3. List 6 unspectacular things about yourself
4. Tag 6 other bloggers

Since nearly everything I do is unspectacular, it is difficult to narrow it to six, but here goes.
1) I've worked at the same factory for over 20 years, the same position for over 19 years.
2) I am a packrat, both at home & professionally at work.
3)I enjoy playing fantasy sports.
4) I've read the entire writings of Louis L'Amour.
5)I'm a meat & potatoes kind of guy.
6)I also like to spend time with my grandchildren.

Since I don't have six friends (because I'm so anti-social), I tag YOU. (Too late to hit the back arrow on your browser.) If you decide to play along, please leave a comment saying so.

I took part in a drive-by shooting

Yes the title is true. Today the county board of health conducted a drive through flu shoot clinic.
It was to have started at 9AM, but there were people already lined up at 8AM (Me included), so when the workers got into place, they opened early. Hand in the paperwork (Which I already had filled out), pay the fee, drive up to a nurse, and get shot. I was through before 8:30. I thought it was a great idea.
Related joke: Q:What goes clip clop, clip clop, bang, clip clop, clip clop?
A: An Amish drive-by shooting.

Flashback Friday #8

The Florida vacation. Part 1

When I was but a young lad, that thought of going away anywhere for vacation was as foreign as eating escargot. It just didn't happen around our house. But one day, that all changed.

Dad's best friend Chuck, was married to Doris. Doris had a sister, Violet, who lived in Florida. Doris, and her sister Bonnie wanted to go visit Violet, but with just the two of them driving, they were afraid that the driver would fall asleep while the passenger slept. Chuck couldn't go because he couldn't get off of work (a likely story), so they asked Mom & Dad if they wanted to go along.

They agreed, and the seating arrangements were like this: Picture a '72 Buick with three adults & one baby in the front seat (Doris, her baby Jewel, Bonnie & Dad), and one adult with three children in the back seat (Mom, Sir Gattabout who was 14, Me at age 10, and Doris' oldest child Nigel who was four). Cozy, hmmm?

The plan was to drive non-stop from central Ohio to Fort Meyers Florida where Violet & my Mom's Uncle Percy lived. When the driver would get tired, the front seat would rotate like a volleyball game. Driver takes passenger seat, passenger seat takes middle holding baby Jewel, and middle becomes driver (this was before child car seats were around). Pull out your map kiddies, this is a long drive (Yahoo Maps says it takes 18+ hours to make the trip).

Well, the trip was made, but it wasn't non-stop (you tell eight people that they have to drive nearly 1200 miles without a potty break and see what happens). During one stop in Tennessee, we were at "tourist trap" showcasing mountain life (log cabins, smoke houses, stills, etc.). Part of the mountain life was that the bathroom facilities consisted of outhouses (Woo Woo! We drive 600 miles to use an outhouse, when we have two in the backyard?). When we were ready to leave, we couldn't find Mom. Not in the gift shop. Not over by the car. Not anywhere to be found. The search was on. Dad finally found her. She was the last to "use the facilities (or lack thereof). When she entered the outhouse, part of the door frame trim came loose, preventing her from opening the door & exiting the outhouse. She was locked in. Dad said this must be how the mountain men got their wives. While we were looking for Mom, Nigel swiped the rest of my can of Mountain Dew. Little creep.

When we entered Fort Meyers city limits, I had a major letdown. It was a fort, wasn't it? Where was the tall wooden stockade fence like in Fort Apache? We finally got to Violet's house. There was much hugging & mushy stuff. It was determined that we would spend the night at Violet's before making our way to Uncle Percy's. Violet lived in a three bedroom trailer, and she had a husband and four kids. Add the eight of us, and we got cozy again. In the morning, we took Doris' car (the '72 Buick) to Uncle Percy's as Doris & Bonnie were going to stay the week at Violet's.

When we got to Uncle Percy's, I was amazed. He was a fisherman deluxe. He had all kinds of large fish mounted on his walls. I walked from room to room looking at his trophy fish while the adults talked. To this day I don't remember what he looks like, but I sure remember those fish (especially the sailfish). Since he and his wife lived in a small bungalow, there wasn't room for us to stay there, so we went to get a room at a motel.

I had never stayed in a motel before.

To be continued.......

In Search Of The Holy Grail

Sorry, Im not talking about Indiana Jones, or Monty Python. It's that time of year. I love hockey. Let the quest begin for the most coveted trophy in hocky: The Stanley Cup.

Cup ediquette states that only players on Cup winning teams may hold the trophy over their head, but anyone can get their picture taken with it (like I did during Lady Lemon's band trip to Toronto during her senior year in high school).
But please don't do this.

Flashback Friday #7

We now have indoor plumbing.

Indoor plumbing is something that most people take for granted, until they are forced to do without it. Most of us can find the bathroom in a half-sleep stupor. Go, flush, go back to bed. Nothing to it. But what if it wasn't so easy? Most of us have had to stop at an "outhouse rest area" a time or two in our lives. If you haven't read it yet, I have a Flashback Friday about our outhouse. But this post isn't about outhouses, it is about us getting running water indoors for the first time.

I was at an auction recently and spotted this chamber pot (the auctioneer called it a "thunder pot"). This is similar to what our indoor toilet looked like until I was nine or ten years old. I am currently mid 40's, so I am referring to 1972 or 1973. It was the responsibility of the kids to empty the pot. We had to carry it back to the back fence & dump it. During the "Tingler" & the"Blackmail" days, it became my daily duty.

In the house that we lived in, there was no bathroom. We kept a chamber pot like the one above setting on a couple cement blocks by the side entrance of the house. The room it was in had some shelves on the wall, so it held everything from extra canned goods to tools. The "pot room" was to be used only at night, or in bad weather, as we had two fully functional outhouses on our property. The room had no door, just a blanket hanging from a couple of nails. The rest of the house contained two bedrooms downstairs, plus a living room & an eat in kitchen. There were two bedrooms upstairs.

Dad decided that we needed to get water hooked up to the house, so we moved the items from the kids bedroom to one of the bedrooms upstairs. My parents took over what used to be the kids bedroom, and the now empty bedroom was to be fitted as a bathroom. We had no fixtures, but with Dad being a carpenter & all-round handyman, he rounded up what was needed.

The first thing you need in a bathroom is running water. I don't know too many bedrooms that have that, so Dad had to run a water line under the floor. The house had an almost full basement, but not under this room. Dad, and his best friend Chuck, cut a three foot by six foot hole in the floor to give them access to the crawlspace under the floor. This they would cover over with a four by eight sheet of plywood when they weren't working.

Things went together quickly and before you know it, they were just about finished. As the final water lines were hooked up, a cautious still hung in the air. Chuck was in the basement at the main valve, while Dad was upstairs ready for the final inspection. As each knob was turned, water flowed. YAY! Now the shower, again water flowed freely. Now the toilet. We all waited anxiously. FLUSH. Hooray! It Works.

Dad asked "Who wants to try it out first?" Of course, I had to be first. Dad picked up his tools, carried them out & shut the door. But the one thing he forgot was to put the plywood over the gaping hole in the floor. I knew I couldn't, so I inched by it over to the toilet. When I was finished, and all the paperwork done, I stood up to pull up my pants. In doing so, I lost my balance and plunged into the hole. SNAP, went the new water line, and before I knew what had happened, there was a beautiful fountain in our bathroom, shooting all the way up to the ceiling.

"HELP, HELP" I cried. Dad shot into the room, saw the fountain, and hollered "Turn the water off Chuck, Hurry". The water was turned off, and Dad pulled my soggy little body out of the hole. About an hour later, the line was fixed, and the hole covered. Until the day we moved out, the sheet of plywood was never nailed down (It was the access panel for the plumbing). The bathroom may have had a "redneck" look to it, but at least it was indoors.

Buckeye Fever, Catch it!

Those of you who know me know that I am a huge Ohio State Buckeyes fan. As a said fan, I have little use for "The State Up North". But I came across some vanity licence plates that say it all


The first picture, I took last year during "Black Friday" in Columbus (You can see my reflection in the bumper). The second was sent to me by a friend who know my feelings on the subject. "Nuff said!

A Century and Counting Part II

The Ogre suggested that I inform my readers why I was so sure the Cubs would not win, and why the Cubs have been so long without winning the National league pennant. Click here for the answer. I'm not sure I believe it, but do you have a better explanation?

A Century And Counting

The Chicago Cubs were swept out of the playoffs this year by the Los Angeles Dodgers. It makes 100 years since the Cubbies have won the World Series. When asked by a co-worker who I thought would represent the NL in the series, I told him the Dodgers or Phillies. "What about the Cubs, they have the best record in the National League?", he asked. I looked at him and replied "They're the Cubs.". 'Nuff said.
On a side note, I am also thoroughly enjoying the fact that the Yankees are watching the playoffs on TV, while their former manager, Joe Torre, is taking the Dodgers to the second round.

Flashback Friday #6

In this edition of Flashback Friday we will entertain an element of childhood that some of us don't outgrow. Toys. I am mid 40's and still enjoy getting down on the floor and playing with toys with my grandchildren (or any other kids who want to play). When I heard that I was going to become a grandpa, I went looking for some of the toys I played with as a child.

When I was young, there wasn't all the electronic gizmos you see today. Toys didn't play with themselves while you watched them. The vast majority of toys I had would do nothing at all, unless you added a secret ingredient. Imagination.

When playing with plastic soldiers (of which I had hundreds), small scraps of wood became buildings. Sticks became corrals that the cowboys kept their horses in. Tin cans turned into rocket ships that propelled astronauts through space. Give me some plastic soldiers & a pile of dirt and I was good for an hour or so.

We never had any new, but we scoured yard sales for Tinker toys, Lincoln logs, and later on Legos. I did have a building set called Ring-ma-jigs. They looked like mini donuts with legs that you could snap together. You could build & stack to your hearts content. My Uncle Chet was so fascinated with them, every time he came over, he would have me get them out. We eventually bought him a set for Christmas.

I also had an affection for stuffed animals. Mom knew a lady who made sock monkeys, and she brought a dozen over for me to pick one. I loved them all, so mom bought all 12 of them for me. For a while, they went everywhere with me. I took them over to Aunt Shelly's house one time, and forgot one. The next day when we went to get it, we had discovered that one of my cousins had taken a butcher knife to it. He had cut off most of the tail, half of one arm & gouged out a hole in the stomach. Mom did what she could to fix him. He looked odd, but I loved him anyway.

What young boy doesn't like toy cars? I had a few Hot Wheels & Matchbox cars, but a lot of what was called "Tootsie Toys" cars. They were twice the size of Hotwheels, and I always got some for Christmas (mom ordered them out of one of the "toy party" books). They were sturdy & held up through many years & many dirt piles.

Currently in my "toyroom, you will find the above mentioned toys (with the exception of Ring-ma-jigs) along with Etch-a-sketch, View Master, Mr. & Mrs. Potato Head, & a Fisher Price castle with knights. There is also quite the collection of a newer favorite "Rescue Heroes" & their rescue vehicles. The grandkids like to come over to Papa's house to play "cause he's got some cool toys".

(Pictured-Sock Monkey, Lincoln logs, Tinkertoys, Hot Wheels, Matchbox, Legos, plastic soldiers and cowboys & indians)

As I grow older, and I walk through flea markets, I tend to look for the "older" toys. I say to myself, or to Lady Nottaguy-TYG, "I used to have some of those". Then I look at the price. GULP. I wish I still had some of those. But if I did, could I get rid of them? You're right, probably not? What did you like to play with when you were little?

Overheard

All of the following conversations were either personally overheard by me, or I was part of the conversation. All are 100% true.

1) While at a large retail store, a couple (man & woman, these days you have to clarify) asked the salesman where they could find matching shirts. The salesman told them" Please follow me, there are some bi-sexual shirts over here". Really now?

2) At work we were talking about a local funeral home building a crematorium near several restaurants. A blonde female co-worker came into the conversation at the end.
Me- I think having a crematorium next to a restaurant is gross.
Blonde- What's so bad about it?
Me- You do know what a crematorium is, don't you?
Blonde- Isn't that where the make donuts?
Me- What????
Blonde- You know, cream filled donuts.
I love donuts, but I think I'll pass on those, thank you.

3) In Sunday school we were talking about going to Heaven. I told the children that when we get there we will all get a crown. Then when we see Jesus, we will take the crown off and cast it at his feet. One little boy raised his hand, and said " I don't think I want to do that". "Why not?" I asked. He replied, very seriously " I don't throw very good, and I'd be afraid that I'd hit Him in the head with it."
How do you retain your composure after a remark like that. I assured him that he would do just fine.