Friday, November 23, 2018

The Tales you didn't expect

Tales. Not the wagging Kind, the Telling kind.

The following is an expression of the many tangents of my mind. Please take no offense at this but if you are offended, then go suck an egg, I do not overly concern myself over your feelings about what I write because I write from the depths of my heart and soul and if you are offended by me, then you know not the God I serve.  So there!

    Mie Werld Vu
Yes, not overly punnie, I know. Yet here ‘Tis.  My eldest will get it and maybe a few others.

 Can we ever have world peace? I think not. Because if there is one or more humans on this planet peace is not achievable.

And yes, I know of Audio Adrenaline, if you are one of “those” that cannot let things go.

I don’t think I will use proper writing in this either, as I do not really concern myself on what grade I can make; nor am I trying to be impressive. If someone can perceive what I am saying, then well and good. If I cause someone to think about why this is so confusing, that is fine also.

If someone is upset with the lack of pictures and drawings, oh well, you aren’t thinking on the same level I am. You may be higher, or you may be lower, but you are totally irrelevant as for as this goes because this is MY perception, not yours. Nor is it free from my prejudices, shortcomings, ignorance or awareness.

Do I think I am right? Of course I do. Am I right in an absolute sense? Only God knows for sure. Neither you nor I have a real clue. So you people out there, do not put words in my mouth that I personally have not said. Do not pull things out of context as my context is the sum total of my interactions with my existence. So here ‘tis, the beginning, or thereabouts....

My awareness began in the fifties with somersaults through the front yard, a tornado moving Aunt Jo’s house, and hurricanes blowing through the neighborhood. I had no idea who “Ike” was but I knew who Tom Terrific and Mighty Mouse were. Mr. Greenjeans and Captain Kangaroo were friend on television as well as Mr. Rogers and I remember the Jimmy Davis “Hymn of the Day”. Didn’t realize till much later in life that he was the governor at the time. I did eat dirt when daddy plowed the field, but only fresh turned dirt. I was picky. I also started 1st grade in ‘59. There I found my first “love”, small l. I still bear the mark of that affair in my arm. My first tattoo, a graphite dot where Dorothy stabbed me with her pencil. I doubt she remembers the occasion but it is deeply impressed in my mind, and flesh. At that time I think I was too self absorbed to be aware of world conditions or others for that matter. I remember reporters that reported facts and not opinions. The news media didn’t have to make up stories or blow stories out of proportion as there were plenty of phenomenal stories to go around. Radio played songs that were good, at least to me, although as we went into the 60's I wasn’t listening to a lot of radio. I did watch a lot of cartoons on Saturday morning. By the way, I had no desire to try to jump off the roof and fly or blow up anybody, although I didn’t mind blowing up toys with firecrackers.  Nor did I seriously wish to shoot anyone. Whack them over the head maybe, but not to the point of termination. The early sixties were best described as relatively uneventful from my perspective. The assassination of the president interrupted my Saturday morning cartoons, so you can tell I was not cognitively aware of world events. Vietnam was already going on, as were other world events and the cold war was intensifying. They made not the smallest blip on my radar. Now by ‘64 or ‘65, the radio was becoming much more a tool of interest to me, particularly rock and roll stations. One thing to mention in this time frame, I was becoming aware of the difference in views of the people around me, even the racial differences. One girl knew that the church I went to and the church she went to had services at the same time, so they must believe the same thing. I had no answer.  Racial tensions made no sense to me as I believed everyone was the same to God so I didn’t understand why people didn’t understand so simple a concept. People are different regardless of what group they belonged to, or even in their groups so why bother with all the drama? It is pointless. Turns out I was right although people still refuse to accept it. All I can say is “get over yourself.”  In just a few short years my experiences with the racial perceptions of many was proved that what I thought was right. As the years of integration commenced many people insisted on drama over using common sense. The dramatist were and are  wrong. Their actions showed how small their perceptions were/are as people, and how shortsighted they were/are being.  One thing that I developed during this era, the first radio headset, (out of an AM transistor radio and tape) which I used to listen to KEEL out of Shreveport while I was choppin’ cotton. I can’t remember what I got paid for that but it kept me off the streets during the summer. By the way, I got paid 5 cents a pound for picking cotton while other hands got 7 cents a pound. And they got paid more just because they were more productive! But then again, I remembered a parable from the bible and no arguing with God or Daddy in my book. I also got 5 cents a pound for picking up pecans during the fall. Of course 20 pounds meant up to eight comic books so I did get some picked up. Also this was Christmas “present money” if I could hang on to it. The few times I got near to 60 pounds I thought I was rich. Mike, my brother, almost always had over 100 pounds which he promptly wasted on girls and beer and such. I didn’t understand that either. Back then if I got a hundred pounds (maybe once or twice) I’d get the “annuals” that cost 25 cents and be in hog heaven. Also during these mid and late 60's I spent a lot of time on the bayous. Mostly Bayou Boeuf fooling around and snake killing and crawfishing and Cocodrie for fishing. I proved that a 14 foot Polarcraft boats won’t sink if you don’t weigh it down because of the  foam in the seats. I also swam the bayou (Boeuf) from the power station to my cousin’s house both ways a few times. It was only about 3 miles and the alligators were all upstream back then. Only thing to worry about were the moccasins and they don’t party a lot at night. In general I didn’t bug the water snakes as they never seemed interested in a fight but the moccasins were down right mean. I’ve seen one that tried to get to me even though I was twenty feet above him. He leapt straight up as I was on the bridge and it was on a log hung up against the pylon. I used most everything from a stick to a 12 gauge against them, including fishing poles.  During the summers I also mowed grass for money. Maybe get 3 or 4 bucks a yard but that ate into my cartoon time. I also had to give Daddy a buck or two as it was his mower that I used. I guess that was my introduction to capitalism. Was ok with me as it made sense. Keep in mind that there were no “zero-turn” riding mowers back then that I knew of and the regular riding mowers were expensive. I was also terrible at setting prices, having next to no business sense. That is something I still have issues with when I work on computers.  I do scare easy. I say that having experienced a few moments of sheer terror, some of which were self induced. We were watching “Twilight Zone” in the living room which set me up for it. I had walked out of the room and into the other bedroom when Moma was coming through it and she heard David coming behind me from the living room. David had heard Moma’s footsteps also and they had decided to “boo” each other. I saw the whole thing happening and when they jumped out at each other I was the one who left the floor three below me. First time I can remember physically feeling an accelerated heartbeat. Other times I have been totally surprised and it generated exactly 0 response. I don’t know. Sometimes I try to remember birthdays and presents and mostly I draw a blank. I do remember a bat Uncle George gave me one year (I was under 15 and over 10, which is as close as I can pinpoint it.) I’m pretty sure I got a glove and ball that year too.  Aside from that, birthday and Christmas presents are a homogeneous mess. I remember giving Grandma a card of tacks for Christmas. It was years later that I found out about how she laughed when she opened it but for the next year each time she needed a thumbtack she would crack a smile and remember the present. Best quarter I ever invested. For a lot of years my Christmas gifts were allocated according to my gift budget. Moma, Daddy, Aunt Jo and Uncle George were always a buck to buck 50. Brothers/cousins up to four bit. Grandma and Grandpa and Dee were not given a limit but seldom over a buck. Carol Jean (cousin that lived next door) always at least four bits depending on the price of chocolate covered cherries. Uncle Possum was usually around 30 to 40 cents depending on where I could find the popping bugs. As you may be able to tell, mental discipline is not my forte’. Other things I remember from the 50's and early 60's are extreme emotions. I have no idea why, but when Aunt Lurlene died I was standing by the phone when Moma took the call. I can only remember the horror I felt at the news. I have no idea why it impacted me so powerfully because I was less than ten, I think. I have to go to her grave to get the year straight in my head and it only last for a couple of days. That’s when Burt and David (her sons) came to live with us. Their dad had died in the 50's in a car wreck in east Texas I think.  Another traumatic incident (for me) was when the rope swing broke as I was reaching the highest point of the arc and was over the concrete table. Yes, I landed on my head but I did NOT break the table. I did take a lot of skin off my ear and the side of my head and I think I was afraid my brains were leaking out, but it was just blood. No idea why I didn’t go deaf either. Other moments of terror, waiting for a school bus and thinking I’d backed into thorns on a plum tree. Turned out those thorns had wings and my feet grew them also as I flew out of the ditch. Another time David and I were hunting and were wrapping it up and leaving the wood behind Uncle Johns house by crossing the fence to his field where the truck was. David went over first while I held the guns and then I went over and stepped into the yellow jacket nest he had just trod on. Four shots to the back and I was once again airborne and flying across the freshly plowed field. Not the last time I was stung, but the last time I was surprised by them bugs. Next attempt on my life by a red wasp resulted in flight before getting stung. Straight across the roof, carport and onto the ground stopping only when the barbed wire fence cause rapid deceleration. Never broke stride even with the eight foot drop between the carport and ground. Like I said, I am temporally challenged in my memories. I know exactly what happened, but when is a challenge. One time my brothers and I went out to the canal to target shoot and I had a 20 gauge that belonged to Burt or David, I don’t remember which for sure. My shells were reloads that a cousin and I had made according to the spec sheets we had. Apparently one shell had a pinhole in it at the base because when I went to shoot a blackbird in the top of a tree, kaboom, the chamber and about two inches of barrel blew out. Keep in mind I was aiming the gun and the chamber and my face were less than six inches apart. I saw Mike and George running towards me and their mouths were moving but no sound was coming out. I heard a little “tick” sound and looked down and there was the shell on the pavement. I looked at the gun and there the chamber where the shell was, wasn’t. Took a couple of days for my hearing to come back but it did. Made me a little more conscious of my gun handling but didn’t put me off from guns at all. I remember Cousin Sidney exposing me to Nancy Drew Mysteries. I read the first hundred of them. I became an avid reader around the sixth grade or so. As far as studies went, I remember flunking the only spelling test I really studied for and I mean F- flunking. I remember reading Dr. Seuss in the seventh grade, not “Green Eggs and Ham” or “The Cat In The Hat” but other books. What snagged my mind was his use of words and the words he made up. I recognized his genius then, and later as I tried my hand at writing. Fortunately none of my earlier writings survived my naval trekking and only a few of the later writings can now be found, thank you Lord.

This covered many of the happenings of my early youth and I’ll right more later, maybe. Not sure I want all my high school secrets out just yet as many of the people involved are still living and do not have the same memories of events as I experienced them. Just to give a preview, no, I did not smoke nor did I drink. Couldn’t afford either even if I wanted to, which I didn’t. I also had limited access to a vehicle so not a lot of dating and such, though I wouldn’t have minded more than I did have. Girls didn’t seem interested and I don’t like to push where emotions are involved. I will say this: there were several that were interesting to me but even then I felt they weren’t the “one” for me. I found her later and we are still married. More about that later also.