Th’ Hollow, N. C.
Dear Y’all:
You will note that I am writing this slow ’cause I know that you can’t read fast. I thought about sending you our address, but the folks who lived here before us took the numbers off the house so they wouldn’t have to change their address, and we’re not sure where we live. It really don’t matter ’cause th’ wife read in the paper that most accidents happen within twenty miles of home so we’re going to move anyway, just to be sure.
This house has got a little room called a baffroom, with a little white washing machine a’settin’ in it. The fust day we lived here, I put three shirts and two pairs of drawers in that thing, pulled the chain and I ain’t seen’em since.
I was gonna send you a coat for your birthday, but the feller at the Post Office said that it was too heavy to mail with all of them big buttons, so I cut’em off and put’em in th’ pocket. Bless Pat; that idiot still wouldn’t take and mail it for me.
The weather has been cold and it only rained twice last week. Three days the fust time and four days the second. Th’ wife has been having a hissie for the weather to warm up so she can take off her union suit. She says the flap in back gets in her way.
We got a bill from the funeral home last week. They said that if we didn’t make the last payment on Uncle Jake’s bury’in, up he comes.
I may have told you that I have got a real important job down here. I got about 500 people under me. It’s not very hard work. I just have to cut the grass at the cemetery twice a week.
Archie Tadlock’s sister, Mavis, had a baby early this morning. I don’t know whether it’s a boy or a girl so I don’t know whether Archie is an uncle or an aunt. Bubba, Mavis’ husband, said that she would have had twins if his foot hadn’t- a-slipped.
Jethro Blevins drowned last week. He was riding in the back of Arlis Lee Rollins’ pickup when he ran off th’ bridge across Dead Fall Creek. Arlis Lee rolled down the window and swam out, but Jethro couldn’t get the tailgate down; so he drowned.
Cousin Billy Ray was buried yesterday. He fell into a vat of whiskey at his still. The fire department tried to pull him out but he fought ‘em off for three days. They cremated him and he burned for 48 hours.
Let us know if you can get off long enough to come down here and we’ll meet the bus if we haven’t moved by then. I meant to send you the money for your ticket, but I forgot to put it in before I sealed the envelope.
Folks around here are quare as th’ devil. Th’ wife and me went to a square dance ’bout a week ago and I axed this gal to dance. She was a good dancer and I decided to compliment her. I told her, “You know, you don’t sweat much for a fat gal,” and she upped and slapped my face. Some folks jus’ don’t ‘preciate compliments.
Aunt Louise got a telephone call t’other day telling her that the entertainment than she had scheduled for the church supper had been canceled. After she hung up, two Hobos came to her door and asked for something to eat. Aunt Louise told them to split that pile of wood out back and she’d feed ‘em.
After a while, she looked out the window and saw one of the men doing somersaults and back-flips and yelling to beat the band. She said, “He’s an acrobat. I’ll ask him to perform.” Calling to the other man, she said, “Would your friend do that at the church tonight? We’ll pay him $100.00.”
The man replied, “I’ll ask him. HEY JOE, you want to cut off another toe for a hundred dollars?”
Ain’t nothing much happening ’round here.
Be sure and write soon as y’all find work, ya’hear?
Yo frien’,
Demijon
S’funny: They calls it tourist season but they won’t let us shoot’em.
July 31st, 2009
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Before
“You younguns take off your school clothes, get your cotton sacks and come to the fields as soon as the Bus runs.”
After
“Daddy: The picker is over at Mr. Oliver’s. Do you want me to go over there and tell him to come here next?”
In late summer, many days of back-breaking work was spent to harvest the fruits from the cotton plants that most folks in the South depended upon for their livelihood. In many cases, this was the only cash crop grown on small farms and the technology for mechanized cotton pickers was unknown.
When the fields appeared to be solid white as the bolls opened and displayed the soft, fluffs of cotton, frenzied efforts were required to gather the yield from the plants before winds and/or rain damaged the crop enough to lower the selling price.
As a general rule, everything possible was put on hold and entire families donned cotton sacks to take advantage of the hot, summer days when cotton would flourish. Only when the fields had been picked clean and the cotton housed could a family expect to get top dollar from their year-long labor.
The introduction of mechanical farm equipment was cost prohibitive for the small farmer to purchase. The only other option was to hire an operator with a mechanical picker for a day or two. Many times, this was accomplished by several farmers in the general vicinity to contract for the equipment at the same time. If the machinery did not have to move very far, the fees were lower and usually within the reach of the smaller farms.
The mechanized equipment did not clean the fields as well and became a bounty for young enterprising children. Most farmers would allow children to gather the remaining cotton when the machines were finished.
This product called (scattered cotton) was then sold to the cotton Gins to be combined with scraps from other farms. The Gins as well as the children benefited from this arrangement.
The few coins received from scattered cotton was usually the extent of most children’s ‘walking around money.’ Any other revenue was needed to maintain an acceptable lifestyle for the entire family. By today’s standards, we were poor; We just didn’t know it.
Been there; done that.
Demijon
Is it possible to have a CIVIL war?
July 30th, 2009
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Have you ever been shopping in a store when a salesclerk follows your every footstep with an attitude that if left alone, you will stuff that blouse in your purse or put that drill bit set in your pocket?
These people apparently do not want you to examine the merchandise, but would rather you would simply walk in, pick up the blouse / drill set, pay and leave.
It is somewhat disconcerting to be watched suspiciously while you are trying to decide between several items. I suppose that they are trained in this way, but it does nothing to enhance the friendly atmosphere that the store advertises.
They should realize that every customer that comes into their store is not there for the purpose of shoplifting and should merely offer to help, if needed, and let the shopper make their own decisions as to what they want to purchase.
One of the worst offenders is in the area of automobile sales. I have never ventured into a dealership or, for that matter, a used car lot when I was allowed to browse freely. Usually, I am met by a salesperson before I can get out of my car and asked just what it is that I’m looking for. I don’t know.
I simply want to see what is available, and then I will decide if I want anything. Determined to sell me something, they follow me around, praising their product and telling me how bad my own car is.
If I ask the price of a vehicle, I am told, “Let’s go in the office and fill out the papers. You will drive out in this pretty little thing.” That’s not what I asked. They want me committed to a contract when I haven’t decided on anything yet.
My wife and sister-in-law were once in a shop on the West Coast and had a salesperson glued to them like a second skin. When they would pick up an item, the clerk would ask them if they liked it. If their answer was no, she would remove it from their hand and place it back on the shelf. Needless to say, they were not happy and did not enjoy their attempt to purchase souvenirs in that particular shop.
The majority of shoppers are not trying to steal anything. They just want to be left to make up their own minds about an item without someone hovering over them or casting suspicious stares at them every time that they examine an article.
Greta Garbo said it best when she said, “Ve vaunt to be left alone!” After we examine the item and decide that we cannot live without it, we then will ask the clerk to take our money.
There is another side to this tirade and that is the stores that WILL leave you alone. These are the shops with employees who apparently detest their job. They never greet you, never offer to help you and you have to hunt for someone to check you out when you have made your decision to buy the items. I really don’t know which ones are the worse.
Repeat business is definitely not uppermost in their minds.
Demijon
If a turtle lost it’s shell, would it be homeless or naked?
July 30th, 2009
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What child has not used this phrase over and over? “Star light, star bright, first star I’ve seen tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.” “I wish I had a bicycle.” “I wish I had a Pony.” “I wish school was out.” “I wish I could go to the circus.” “I wish this.” “I wish that.”
It seems we were never satisfied with the blessings we already had. We wanted more. Attempts to convince us that we were blessed with enough food and clothing, a home and loved ones usually fell on deaf ears when we would see a friend with a shiny, new racing bicycle or when we were bogged down with homework.
Posters that advertise that the circus was coming to town were usually more than enough to cause us to search out the evening star.
You will note that the wishes were never for that bike or that pony, simply because we were taught from early childhood that we were not to covet another person’s possessions. We were careful to only wish for a similar product. Many times, wishing prodded us to exert more effort in order to attain our hearts desire.
Wishing is not altogether bad if used in the proper context. We would be a sorry lot indeed if we did not have a desire to improve on what life had handed us. If our desire was great enough to cause us to work harder to attain our goals, then we are the winners.
Suddenly we are grown and our wishes have changed. Now; “We wish you well.” “We wish you a happy birthday.” “We wish you a merry Christmas,” etc. No longer are we possessed with a desire for material things.
By the sweat of our brow, we have managed to attain the necessary components for a happy lifestyle and our wishes turn toward others. The prophet said it best; “When I was a child, I thought as a child. When I became a man, I put away childish things.”
Wishes have a way of becoming reality when the desires are great enough to work harder to achieve them.
Demijon
Profundity: Don’t sweat the petty things and don’t pet the sweaty things.
July 29th, 2009
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The first one was an oblong box of perhaps fourteen inches in height. The top was somewhat rounded at the outside corners. The front was adorned with two knobs and a small fan-shaped dial, inside of which were a series of numbers and a red needle-like pointer.
Except for the intricate tubes and wires, the back was hollow. There was a legitimate reason for this vacancy. A dry-cell battery that supplied the power for the unit must be plugged in and slid into this cavity.
A length of wire called an aerial, connected to the base of the power transformer and strung through a window to a long pole outside the house completed the installation. Our family now owned our first radio.
Everyone in the family was cautioned about turning on this wondrous gadget. The battery must be saved for important purposes like the war news, with Edward R. Murrow fading in and out from London, England.
However, these warnings were sometimes ignored by myself and my siblings if we were lucky enough to be alone in the house at the time for “Lets Pretend,” “Jack Armstrong – All American Boy,” or “Gangbusters” to be aired.
Although inclement weather often affected reception, there were times during favorable conditions, and if the aerial was high enough, that stations as far away as WCKY in Cincinnati, Ohio, could be received or we would sit entranced as we listened to the harmony of Lula Belle and Scotty from station KNOX in Knoxville, Tennessee.
As a general rule we were allowed one or two programs after supper and the evening news. Usually these programs were “Amos & Andy,” “Lum & Abner,” or perhaps “Fred Allen.”
It was also not unusual for some of our neighbors, who as yet did not own a radio, to gather in our living room to listen and laugh at the antics of these popular personalities.
The one program which was hardly ever missed was the Saturday night “Grand Ole Opry,” coming from “clear channel,” WSM in Nashville, Tennessee.
The veracity of radio celebrities was never doubted and names like Minnie Pearl, String Bean, Grady Cole, George D. Hays (the solemn old judge), and Eddie Arnold became like family members. If THEY said that Martha White flour was good, no one would take exception to this fact.
In the early to mid-1940′s, electricity came to the rural areas through the inauguration of the R.E.A. (Rural Electrification Administration). Poles and wires were strung throughout the countryside and to almost every house.
Radios became smaller because of no need to house batteries. A simple wire plugged into the overhead socket supplied the power, and the radio became a constant companion for most households.
I suppose that the worse let-down for me was when I learned that Lum & Abner did not, in fact, work in the “Jot-Um-Down” store; that “Kingfish” and the lodge of “The Mystic Knights of the Sea” did not exist; that the hoof beats of “The great Horse Silver” were created by a sound engineer; and the castles, kings and dragons of “Let’s Pretend” were only words read from a script by actors standing on either side of a microphone.
Today, we are aware of all of the technology required to produce radio as well as television programs, but to a young innocent boy in the days of yore, it was the real thing. Even now, in my mind, I can visualize “Amos,” sitting in his taxicab and “Kingfish” leaning against the door, discussing the antics of “Sapphire,” or hear the thundering hoof beats of Silver, and the hearty “HI-YO-SILVER, A-WAY” as the Lone Ranger and Tonto seek yet another wrong to be righted.
Demijon
If you try to FAIL and succeed, which have you done?
July 28th, 2009
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That the telephone rings immediately after the first bite of your dinner?
That you think that everyone is looking if you happen to slip and fall?
That you cannot find a parking space within two miles when it’s raining?
That the shortest Grocery line always has the most talkative and slowest checker?
And the lady behind is in such a hurry, she pushes her cart into your ankle?
That the waitress asks if everything is alright just when your mouth is full?
That the guy next door could have saved you hundreds on the new lawn mower?
And everyone he knows has had trouble with that particular brand?
That no one will suggest a place to dine, but all will complain about this one?
That Nordi-Track turns everyone into muscle bound specimens except you?
That the product which goes on sale today was sold out when the doors opened?
That the appliance explodes one day after the warranty expires?
That all of your neighbors want to talk when you are trying to finish mowing?
That clothing stores have developed a size 40 which becomes 34 when you buy it?
That you get an itch in your crotch as soon as you stand before an audience?
That everyone can get better gas mileage than you have ever been able to?
That the person behind you at a theater talks you through the action?
That the Grocery puts your milk in a ripped bag and the twinkies in doubled ones?
And the coupon for 50 cents off on the twinkies expired yesterday?
That your telephone bill increases by 57% when you sign up to save 25%?
That there is nothing more interesting on television than ‘Judge Judy?’
That you mention to a friend that you’re reading a book and he relates the end?
That you have to spell a word correctly in order for your computer to spell-check?
That after hours of hearing about other children, the subject changes when you mention some cute remark or action attributable to yours?
Finally you become disgusted, you tell everyone to go to hell, assume an attitude of “I don’t give a tinkers damn,” move to the green swamp and become a hermit?
That’ll teach them all that you do not intend to be intimidated by a bunch of scalawags who have nothing better to do than to take the time to read junk like this.
Demijon
What if there were NO hypothetical questions?
July 28th, 2009
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I hesitate to bring this up due to the fact that I am certain that the persons involved had no malicious intent; however, the circumstance surrounding the event was such that it cannot easily be ignored.
The call came late in the evening. “We’re in the vicinity and wanted to touch base with you,” the voice declared. “Sure, come on by,” was the answer.
Shortly thereafter, the vehicle turned into the driveway and the young couple emerged with two toddlers in tow. Immediately upon entering our home, the youngsters began grabbing first one item and then another. An attempt at control was made by the mother by stating, “You shouldn’t do that.” SHOULDN’T! Now doesn’t that just pop your suspenders?
What those children needed was firm hand contact with their rear ends and the assurance that the situation would definitely deteriorate if it happened again.
Child psychologists insist that today’s child is to be left to their own designs or else a complex is likely to develop. If indeed this is true, please allow them to experiment with someone else’s “Stuff.”
We did not permit our own children free access to fragile items around our home, and we have no intention of giving permission for anyone to destroy the things which we hold dear. Complex or no complex.
The purpose of this article is to expose the psychologists for what they are. They are the ones who were allowed to do anything their hearts desired regardless of any harm that they caused others. To put it bluntly, they were “spoiled rotten.”
They use the term “child abuse” in order to prevent parents from applying sufficient discipline to deter their children from ignoring the rights of others.
Our children are now grown but they will quickly inform you that they suffered no ill effects from the spanking of their behinds when they committed some infraction. The truth is, now that they have witnessed a few young parents allowing children to do anything they pleased, they can appreciate our stern approach toward teaching them right from wrong.
We never felt the need to consult a psychologist when raising our children. We felt that the training that we, ourselves, had received was ample to turn them into responsible adults.
Thank God, it worked.
Demijon
One nice thing about egotists: They don’t talk about other people.
July 27th, 2009
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Bubba was downright crazy about catfish. He could eat them for breakfast, lunch and dinner. BUT Bubba would not go fishing if it required him to get into a boat.
He could not swim and was afraid of falling overboard. He endured quite a lot of ribbing from his friends, but none could entice him to go near their boats. “I’ll drown for sure,” Bubba would say. If he fished at all, it was only from the banks of the river.
Nicknamed Bubba by an older brother, he was a large man that stood above six feet and topped the scales around 250 pounds. Water was his only fear. If the occasion arose, he would think nothing about climbing into a cage with a hungry tiger so long as the cage was nowhere near water.
He made his living as a truck driver. He hauled freight to the barges that docked along the great river. He would not, however, unload the truck if he was required to get near the edge of the pier.
Everyone on the river knew that Bubba was scared to death of water, and they all accepted this.
Lurking somewhere beneath the muddy expanse of the river was a catfish that everyone called “old blue.” Some said that this fish would weigh close to 20 pounds, but no one knew for sure. Many had hooked him, but none had been successful in landing him.
Bubba had heard all the tales about “old blue” and wished desperately to be the one to finally conquer him. He knew that in order to do this he would have to go to him because the fish would not come to Bubba.
Finally one day Bubba decided to curb his fear and to become famous by landing that fish. His terror of water had not diminished, but his desire for fame was greater than his reluctance to board a vessel in search of “blue.”
Gathering all of his tackle and several cans of bait, he set out in a borrowed boat to show that fish just who was boss. Rowing to the middle of the river, he began his quest.
He had hardly begun to fish in earnest when a large boat sped by creating a huge wake. When the wake hit his small craft, Bubba fell overboard.
Thrashing about in the muddy water, Bubba was shouting, “I’m drowning for sure!” “Help me, somebody; anybody!” Of course no one was near enough to hear him, but this did not stop him from shouting.
Finally he decided to drown like a man. He stopped thrashing and took a deep breath. If he was going to drown, he would die in a dignified manner.
Folding his arms over his chest, he slowly settled into the muddy waters of that great river. Imagine his surprise when he discovered that the water was only three feet deep.
Never again did Bubba have the desire for fame, and he had lost his appetite for catfish. He lived to a ripe old age, and none of his friends had nerve enough to say in his presence;
“Bubba’s scared to death of water.”
Demijon
Why do they lock Service Station bathrooms? Are they afraid someone will clean them? Dj
July 27th, 2009
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In the early days of radio, one of the few programs that we, as children, were allowed to listen to was the exciting adventures of a fictional character known only as THE LONE RANGER.
Wearing a mask and riding a solid, white Stallion, he brought law and order to the wild west. His calling cards were silver bullets removed from the cartridge belt that holstered his twin six-guns.
I suppose one could say his aide-de-camp was a trusty Indian companion named TONTO.
Whenever laws were broken or any wrong was committed, the famous duo was summoned to bring order and to punish the wrong-doers.
Amazingly, the process was devoid of the mayhem and gore that is a standard feature in today’s entertainment. All that was necessary to undo any violation of the law was for the masked man to shoot the gun from the perpetrators hand and remark, “YOU’RE NOT HURT!”
Then; when law and order had been restored, the sound effects of the great horse Silver would be heard and the immortal words of “HI-YO-SILVER” and “GET-UM-UP-SCOUT” reverberated through the small speakers of a battery-powered radio.
All that was left for the victims to say to describe what had happened was to ask the question; “Who was that Masked Man?” Of course, the answer was always, “THE LONE RANGER!”
Much later in life, I heard a story that tickled my fancy. It began with The Lone Ranger and Tonto camped on the prairie when they saw 1000 Indians coming from the North. 2000 Indians were approaching from the South. The same amount of Indians were riding from the East and from the West.
The Masked Man laid his hand on the shoulder of his trusted companion and said, “Kemo-Sabe; this looks like the end of us.”
Tonto promptly replied, “What the hell do you mean US, – White Man?”
Demijon
Is there another word for synonym?
July 26th, 2009
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I wonder how many readers remember what the title means and where it was located. Hint. It was changed in 1942 when we were engrossed in World War II.
American Tobacco Company manufactured a brand of cigarettes with the name of “Lucky Strike.”
As depicted in the photo, the original package was green with a red circle that included the name.
The color green was copper-based and was needed for by our Armed Services for use in the war effort and was in short supply. Therefore a dramatic change was necessary.
Advertisers jumped on the wagon with a unique campaign. With five sound tones similar to Morse Code, they came up with “L.S. / M.F.T.” These letters were stamped on each package and used in all commercials.
The explanation for these letters was “Lucky Strike Means Fine Tobacco.”
To further explain the major difference in the appearance of the packages were the often quoted announcements that, “LUCKY STRIKE GREEN HAS GONE TO WAR.”
The new package retained the red circle but instead of the dark green background, the rest of the package was, and still is, white.
The change that included this massive advertising campaign worked very well for the Company. It was reported their sales of this product increased by some forty percent.
Incidentally, when this change was made, a package of “ready rolled” cigarettes could be purchased for .15 to .25 cents.
Even then, there were many smokers who relied on the standard “roll your own” tobacco such as “Stud Horse,” “Golden Grain” and “Bugler.”
Old habits die hard.
Demijon
After age 50, it’s okay to lie about your age. No one will believe you anyhow.
July 23rd, 2009
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