“LIKE; YOU KNOW!”

I suppose that I am just a mite old fashioned, but I find it harder and harder to converse with the youth of today. I was seated beside a young man at a dinner party recently, and I made an attempt to ask if he was employed. His answer was; (I think), “Well, yeah, like, you know: I boogied down to the Quick-Check; and I go; “Hey man, do you need somebody to clean this joint up?” and he goes, “you know; like, ‘cool.” “So I: You know:” “Sucked up to the old geezer, and like: “You know:” “Here I am.”

I desperately tried to remember what he said in order to question my sons as to his answer. “Was it yes or no?” “I am reasonably certain that he was not taught that this was the correct procedure for a job interview;” but then, “I have been told that I am out of touch with the real world; therefore; how would I know?”

It has not been so long ago that a job interview involved; “Putting your best foot forward.” Neatly dressed, Shoes shined; Hair combed, and most importantly; Presenting yourself as attentive, polite and enthusiastic.” “Perhaps the lack of this line of reasoning has contributed to the rise in unemployment.”

A visit to any video arcade during a workday can attest to the fact that many young people favor entertainment in lieu of working.” “Dozens of young people are present on a daily basis, so engrossed in the operation of some video game that they were apparently oblivious of the help-wanted signs in the adjacent shops.” “I well, remember when the mere mention of an opening for a job could prompt long lines of prospective applicants.”

This brings up the subject of where do they get the money that they evidently have in abundance? I realize that some work different shifts and this would be considered their “down time;” but there are a few who are present morning; noon, and night, with no visible means of support for their addiction to a “video-fix.”

The point in all this rambling is simply that I do not understand youth. In another time, youngsters were expected: NO; required; to earn at least part of their subsistence. Allowances were not feasible for a family who needed all of the income that they could get for survival. Also, I am not aware of any permanent scars, on anyone who was required to help with this income.

Getting back to the interview of yesteryear, you dressed neatly: talked intelligently: convinced them of your willingness to work hard; and ONLY when you had secured the job did you? “suck up to the boss?”

“Like, you know:” “Hey man, I need more bread.”
Answer: “WAD YOU SAY?”

Demijon

Susie Mae, she gits sorta carried away ’bout anniversarie presents, so I ‘cided that I wud git her one whot she’d be some more proud uv. Hit took me quite a spell to fint jus’ th rite one, but I fount hit at one uv them flee markets. Hit were a big, white pitchur frame. Th feller whot run th flee market, he ‘lowed as how hit come offen one uv them thare new fangled commodes whot them town folks has put in they outhouses.

I paid th feller a dollar fer hit an brung hit home an’ hid hit in th barn ’til I fount th’ time ta fix hit up proper. I had fount a pitchur uv me an’ Susie Mae at her mammy’s whot had been took wiff a kodak at th carnival one time, an’ I taken that thare pitchur an’ pasted hit in that thare frame an’ hung hit on th wall in th frunt room.

Whilst I wuz a’workin on that thare present, Susie Mae were over at Miz. Mazies a’playin’ Old Maid wiff some uv th’ womernfolks an’ I hbroch th subjec, but jus’ let her d’scover hit fer her own self.

Wells’r, b’then she had traipsed in th’ door, I knowed sumpin were wrong, so I sez ta her, “Did Miz. Mazie an’ them throw off on yo’ frock agin?” She ackted like she were gonna tune up to squawl an’ she sez, “Naw, but all uv’um cheated an’ won all my aig money.”

I jus sot thare whilst she were a’simmer’in an’ ackted like I’se a’readin th’ Market Bulletin an’ she marched off inta th’ frunt room. She had no more’n got in thare good whens’t she commenced a’hollerin an’ a’yellin ta beat th’ band. She sez, “Jay Henry, honey!” “Who’s this here HUZZY whot’s a’settin’ b’side you’ens in this hear pitchur you done hung hit on our’n wall?”

I knowed rite then that she were some more s’prized so I jus’ up an’ tolt her ’bout how I fount th’ frame an’ put that thare pitchur in hit fer a anniversarie present fer her. She commenced a’squallin big time an’ then I axed her, “Susie Mae, is you mad?” She snatched up her frock tail an’ blowed her nose an’ sez, “Naw, Jay Henry, honey, I ain’t mad. I’se jus’ a’squallin ’cause I thinks hit’s so sweet uv you’ens.”

Now, Susie Mae, she be’s so proud uv that thare thang that ever time we’ens has got cumpany come in, she drags ’em inta th’ frunt room an’ shows ’em that thare pitchur and then she sez;

“Hit looks jus’ lak we’s a’settin thare, don’t hit?”ad done hung th pitchur b’then she got back ta th shack. I had ‘cided ta s’prize her wiff her anniversarie present so I wont ’bout ta

Jay Henry
Posted in Uncategorized
Traveling Salesmen
Posted on December 11, 2006 by John Sellers

cid_003801c5bfb2ac48c0205d027db0yourus67pi6luv.jpg

The brunt of thousands of jokes over the years has been the men who, either through necessity or preference, chose a career that required them to seek out their customers rather than wait in a lavishly furnished office or showroom until the client had a need for their services or product.

They traversed the length and breadth of our country armed with samples and order books. In the days when automobiles were a luxury rather than an essential requirement, most would use as a mode of transportation a train or bus in order to reach their assigned area. Once there, they either walked or were dependant upon the local inhabitants’ charitable nature for transportation and/or room and board.

Since a drab hotel room would produce very little mirth, the setting for most of the jokes revolved around the salesman being required to stay overnight with one of his customers. In a time when much of the nation centered around agriculture, the host was always a farmer.

It was common knowledge that seldom was anyone turned away if they were in need; therefore, the salesmen were welcomed to share their homes and whatever food was available. Repayment was not expected.

Most of the farm families were large, due in part to the need for laborers to tend the crops in the time before modern machinery. In addition, many farmhouses were small and space was at a premium at best, but regardless, the salesmen were still invited to stay overnight and herein hangs the tale…

One particular salesman was stranded in a remote section of the country without hope of returning to a more populated area before nightfall.

Approaching a farmhouse, he inquired about staying overnight with the family. The generous farmer informed him that he was indeed welcome to share their home and that the evening meal would be forthcoming. Afterwards, he was told about the limited sleeping space and asked if it would bother him if he shared a bed with the baby. The salesman did not relish the thoughts of an infant in his bed, so he asked the farmer if it would be permissible for him to sleep in the barn. The farmer agreed and provided him with a blanket and pillow.

Rather early the next morning, he was awakened by the sound of someone entering the barn. When he arose, he saw a beautiful young girl who was apparently around 19 years old approach with a milking stool and a bucket. He had not seen her during the evening meal and he immediately asked, “Who are you?” She smiled and said, “I’m the baby. Who are you?”

Sheepishly the salesman replied, “I’m the darn fool who slept in the barn!”

Demijon

Posted in Uncategorized
Bad News – Good News – Great News
Posted on December 11, 2006 by John Sellers

1947_hudsonjpg.jpe

First, the bad news. Your car has a terminal case of engine stall-itis. “The worse case that I’ve seen in twenty three years as a mechanic.” “I seriously doubt that we can remedy the situation short of installing a new engine, new shock absorbers, springs, brake pads and drive shaft.” “The cost?” “I would guess around $23,000.00.”

“Let me introduce you to our manager. He can give you the complete details.” A short man appears from out of nowhere, sporting a smile that would make Jimmy Carter blush and says, “Come on into my office and I believe we can work out a satisfactory solution to your problem.” “You see, those 1947 Studebakers were built to last only twenty years or so. You have been one of the lucky ones to have gotten this much mileage out of this one. To repair it would only be throwing good money after bad. It is truly with sorrow that I have to inform you of the fact that it’s gone. However, hope springs eternal.”

Now for the good news. “It just happens that we have reduced the price of our new Backfire X-300 to the lowest level in five years. This little gem is “loaded.” Gets 47 miles to the gallon and never needs a tune-up. It comes with a lifetime guarantee against rust, dents and nicks. All you have to do is to bring it back to us for service every two weeks to insure that your warranty remains valid. The only cost of this valuable protection is $316.50 per visit which we can easily add to your financing contract.

Now for the GREAT news. You can transfer the title of your old car to us, and with a down payment of only $15,000 you can drive out in complete comfort with the assurance that you will never experience another case of engine stall-itis. Now if you’ll just sign here, we’ll clean it up for you.”

Sound familiar? Somewhere out there is a mechanic waiting to reveal to you all of the afflictions of your present vehicle, and right behind him is the man with the toothy smile who will assure you that your only salvation is in the ownership of the fabulous Backfire X-300.

It certainly makes one wonder which news is worse, the good, the bad or the great.

Demijon
Posted in Uncategorized
Guidelines for giftgiving
Posted on December 10, 2006 by John Sellers

jingle-bellsjpg.jpe

Somewhere in the back of our minds we all anticipate a birthday, Christmas and/or other holiday present with a zeal of orgasmic proportions. Don’t deny it. The thoughts are there. Then, when the presentation is made, our first response is usually the statement, “you shouldn’t have.” Often the gift is one which we have voiced a longing for on many occasions, and instead of showing sincere appreciation we conceal our delight by informing the giver that they should not have been so kind as to fulfill our desire for the article.

I am a firm believer in the truism that a gift should be something in which the recipient possessed a desire for and yet would not necessarily purchase. It need not be extravagant to be exciting. Simple observations of the friend or loved one will divulge volumes of information about their likes and dislikes.

For instance, accompanying your spouse on a shopping trip and appearing casual as you notice them examining an item at length and returning later to re-examine the same article. This should denote enough interest to indicate that this would be an appropriate gift for some occasion. If this occurs, then you merely manufacture an excuse to return to the particular shop and invest .69 cents into what would become an appreciated surprise.

However, care must be taken to avoid at all costs the area of clothing if your spouse is of the female gender. Face it, you’ll never get it right. It does not matter that she looked at the item dozens of times, once you make the purchase, “It doesn’t hang right.” “The colors do not match my shoes.” “Stripes make me look fat.” “The neckline is wrong.” “This material is not IN, this year.”

Most of us who are experienced in the area of shopping for a woman resort to the middle-of-the-road stance when searching for a gift for our spouse. We make observations of events in her everyday life to guide us in the search for the “perfect” gift.

Noting the efforts that are required of her during the preparation of a tasty meal prompts us to consider “The Amazing Vegamatic,” “The Fry Baby” or the “Salad Shooter.” Making life a little easier for “the little woman” is satisfaction enough for most of us to contemplate a gift that she would not purchase for herself. Our reward for being so considerate is the look of total surprise when she opens the gift and tearfully says…

“You shouldn’t have.”

Demijon
Posted in Uncategorized
Choice of professionals
Posted on December 9, 2006 by John Sellers

GOOD – $12.45. BETTER – $19.95. BEST – $24.68.

One of America’s largest retail catalog stores has used this method of upgrading for years. How many of us would settle for the least expensive item when, for only a few dollars more, we can have the best? It allows a tremendous boost to our ego when we are able to say that the one we selected is “Top of the Line.”

However, in many cases there is very little difference. More chrome on the “Better” and the words ELITE on the “Best;” but the inner workings are identical. Performance from any of the three is essentially the same, so why are we obsessed with the idea that only the “Best” will serve our purpose? One theory is that if it is priced higher, it must be of better quality.

This is exactly what the manufacturing plant had in mind when they diverted some items from the assembly line in order to place on each the ELITE sticker; therefore, assuring those items to appeal to the ones of us who scoff at ownership of second best.

Since manufacturing costs are the same with the exception of the small amount of chrome and a three-cent sticker, the profits are much greater. Dependency on our fetish for ownership of the “top of the line” has caused sales to skyrocket for the “Better” and the “Best.”

Recently another method of advertising has surfaced. The listing of certain items with the words, “Choice of Professionals.” If a Handyman sports these tools or equipment, the die is cast. His hammer must be better than the one that we own that was rated as Good.

After all, he depends on it for his livelihood. Perhaps the ownership of this high-quality hammer is responsible for his professional status. With this in mind, we rush to the store and make our purchase.

We immediately retire the “Good” hammer to the depths of the unused, rusting tools underneath our workbench. Now, we proudly display our latest acquisition; the “ELITE” one; in ‘plain view,’ on our workbench. At last we will be able to “run with the big dogs.”

Although, little thought is given to the fact that we hardly know which end of the hammer is the business end; we nevertheless can now inspire ‘awe & admiration’ from our peers.

We own “THE CHOICE OF PROFESSIONALS.” Proof of the superiority of our latest acquisition occurs with our first use of the product. The thumb that we strike with ‘Top of the Line; “ELITE,” Hammer,’ does not hurt half as badly as with our former, inferior; “Good” model did.

Demijon

My order for a ‘good,’ Hammer came today. It will suffice for general use. I will still display my ELITE hammer in my tool belt as an advertising logo of my Professional status. Dj.

Posted in Uncategorized
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portrait
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Susie Mae, she gits sorta carried away ’bout anniversarie presents, so I ‘cided that I wud git her one whot she’d be some more proud uv. Hit took me quite a spell to fint jus’ th rite one, but I fount hit at one uv them flee markets. Hit were a big, white pitchur frame. Th feller whot run th flee market, he ‘lowed as how hit come offen one uv them thare new fangled commodes whot them town folks has put in they outhouses.

I paid th feller a dollar fer hit an brung hit home an’ hid hit in th barn ’til I fount th’ time ta fix hit up proper. I had fount a pitchur uv me an’ Susie Mae at her mammy’s whot had been took wiff a kodak at th carnival one time, an’ I taken that thare pitchur an’ pasted hit in that thare frame an’ hung hit on th wall in th frunt room.

Whilst I wuz a’workin on that thare present, Susie Mae were over at Miz. Mazies a’playin’ Old Maid wiff some uv th’ womernfolks an’ I had done hung th pitchur b’then she got back ta th shack. I had ‘cided ta s’prize her wiff her anniversarie present so I wont ’bout ta broch th subjec, but jus’ let her d’scover hit fer her own self.

Wells’r, b’then she had traipsed in th’ door, I knowed sumpin were wrong, so I sez ta her, “Did Miz. Mazie an’ them throw off on yo’ frock agin?” She ackted like she were gonna tune up to squawl an’ she sez, “Naw, but all uv’um cheated an’ won all my aig money.”

I jus sot thare whilst she were a’simmer’in an’ ackted like I’se a’readin th’ Market Bulletin an’ she marched off inta th’ frunt room. She had no more’n got in thare good whens’t she commenced a’hollerin an’ a’yellin ta beat th’ band. She sez, “Jay Henry, honey!” “Who’s this here HUZZY whot’s a’settin’ b’side you’ens in this hear pitchur you done hung hit on our’n wall?”

I knowed rite then that she were some more s’prized so I jus’ up an’ tolt her ’bout how I fount th’ frame an’ put that thare pitchur in hit fer a anniversarie present fer her. She commenced a’squallin big time an’ then I axed her, “Susie Mae, is you mad?” She snatched up her frock tail an’ blowed her nose an’ sez, “Naw, Jay Henry, honey, I ain’t mad. I’se jus’ a’squallin ’cause I thinks hit’s so sweet uv you’ens.”

Now, Susie Mae, she be’s so proud uv that thare thang that ever time we’ens has got cumpany come in, she drags ’em inta th’ frunt room an’ shows ’“Hit looks jem that thare pitchur and then she sez;

us’ lak we’s a’settin thare, don’t hit?”

Jay Henry
Posted in Uncategorized
Traveling Salesmen
Posted on December 11, 2006 by John Sellers

cid_003801c5bfb2ac48c0205d027db0yourus67pi6luv.jpg

The brunt of thousands of jokes over the years has been the men who, either through necessity or preference, chose a career that required them to seek out their customers rather than wait in a lavishly furnished office or showroom until the client had a need for their services or product.

They traversed the length and breadth of our country armed with samples and order books. In the days when automobiles were a luxury rather than an essential requirement, most would use as a mode of transportation a train or bus in order to reach their assigned area. Once there, they either walked or were dependant upon the local inhabitants’ charitable nature for transportation and/or room and board.

Since a drab hotel room would produce very little mirth, the setting for most of the jokes revolved around the salesman being required to stay overnight with one of his customers. In a time when much of the nation centered around agriculture, the host was always a farmer.

It was common knowledge that seldom was anyone turned away if they were in need; therefore, the salesmen were welcomed to share their homes and whatever food was available. Repayment was not expected.

Most of the farm families were large, due in part to the need for laborers to tend the crops in the time before modern machinery. In addition, many farmhouses were small and space was at a premium at best, but regardless, the salesmen were still invited to stay overnight and herein hangs the tale…

One particular salesman was stranded in a remote section of the country without hope of returning to a more populated area before nightfall.

Approaching a farmhouse, he inquired about staying overnight with the family. The generous farmer informed him that he was indeed welcome to share their home and that the evening meal would be forthcoming. Afterwards, he was told about the limited sleeping space and asked if it would bother him if he shared a bed with the baby. The salesman did not relish the thoughts of an infant in his bed, so he asked the farmer if it would be permissible for him to sleep in the barn. The farmer agreed and provided him with a blanket and pillow.

Rather early the next morning, he was awakened by the sound of someone entering the barn. When he arose, he saw a beautiful young girl who was apparently around 19 years old approach with a milking stool and a bucket. He had not seen her during the evening meal and he immediately asked, “Who are you?” She smiled and said, “I’m the baby. Who are you?”

Sheepishly the salesman replied, “I’m the darn fool who slept in the barn!”

Demijon

Posted in Uncategorized
Bad News – Good News – Great News
Posted on December 11, 2006 by John Sellers

1947_hudsonjpg.jpe

First, the bad news. Your car has a terminal case of engine stall-itis. “The worse case that I’ve seen in twenty three years as a mechanic.” “I seriously doubt that we can remedy the situation short of installing a new engine, new shock absorbers, springs, brake pads and drive shaft.” “The cost?” “I would guess around $23,000.00.”

“Let me introduce you to our manager. He can give you the complete details.” A short man appears from out of nowhere, sporting a smile that would make Jimmy Carter blush and says, “Come on into my office and I believe we can work out a satisfactory solution to your problem.” “You see, those 1947 Studebakers were built to last only twenty years or so. You have been one of the lucky ones to have gotten this much mileage out of this one. To repair it would only be throwing good money after bad. It is truly with sorrow that I have to inform you of the fact that it’s gone. However, hope springs eternal.”

Now for the good news. “It just happens that we have reduced the price of our new Backfire X-300 to the lowest level in five years. This little gem is “loaded.” Gets 47 miles to the gallon and never needs a tune-up. It comes with a lifetime guarantee against rust, dents and nicks. All you have to do is to bring it back to us for service every two weeks to insure that your warranty remains valid. The only cost of this valuable protection is $316.50 per visit which we can easily add to your financing contract.

Now for the GREAT news. You can transfer the title of your old car to us, and with a down payment of only $15,000 you can drive out in complete comfort with the assurance that you will never experience another case of engine stall-itis. Now if you’ll just sign here, we’ll clean it up for you.”

Sound familiar? Somewhere out there is a mechanic waiting to reveal to you all of the afflictions of your present vehicle, and right behind him is the man with the toothy smile who will assure you that your only salvation is in the ownership of the fabulous Backfire X-300.

It certainly makes one wonder which news is worse, the good, the bad or the great.

Demijon
Posted in Uncategorized
Guidelines for giftgiving
Posted on December 10, 2006 by John Sellers

jingle-bellsjpg.jpe

Somewhere in the back of our minds we all anticipate a birthday, Christmas and/or other holiday present with a zeal of orgasmic proportions. Don’t deny it. The thoughts are there. Then, when the presentation is made, our first response is usually the statement, “you shouldn’t have.” Often the gift is one which we have voiced a longing for on many occasions, and instead of showing sincere appreciation we conceal our delight by informing the giver that they should not have been so kind as to fulfill our desire for the article.

I am a firm believer in the truism that a gift should be something in which the recipient possessed a desire for and yet would not necessarily purchase. It need not be extravagant to be exciting. Simple observations of the friend or loved one will divulge volumes of information about their likes and dislikes.

For instance, accompanying your spouse on a shopping trip and appearing casual as you notice them examining an item at length and returning later to re-examine the same article. This should denote enough interest to indicate that this would be an appropriate gift for some occasion. If this occurs, then you merely manufacture an excuse to return to the particular shop and invest .69 cents into what would become an appreciated surprise.

However, care must be taken to avoid at all costs the area of clothing if your spouse is of the female gender. Face it, you’ll never get it right. It does not matter that she looked at the item dozens of times, once you make the purchase, “It doesn’t hang right.” “The colors do not match my shoes.” “Stripes make me look fat.” “The neckline is wrong.” “This material is not IN, this year.”

Most of us who are experienced in the area of shopping for a woman resort to the middle-of-the-road stance when searching for a gift for our spouse. We make observations of events in her everyday life to guide us in the search for the “perfect” gift.

Noting the efforts that are required of her during the preparation of a tasty meal prompts us to consider “The Amazing Vegamatic,” “The Fry Baby” or the “Salad Shooter.” Making life a little easier for “the little woman” is satisfaction enough for most of us to contemplate a gift that she would not purchase for herself. Our reward for being so considerate is the look of total surprise when she opens the gift and tearfully says…

“You shouldn’t have.”

Demijon
Posted in Uncategorized
Choice of professionals
Posted on December 9, 2006 by John Sellers

GOOD – $12.45. BETTER – $19.95. BEST – $24.68.

One of America’s largest retail catalog stores has used this method of upgrading for years. How many of us would settle for the least expensive item when, for only a few dollars more, we can have the best? It allows a tremendous boost to our ego when we are able to say that the one we selected is “Top of the Line.”

However, in many cases there is very little difference. More chrome on the “Better” and the words ELITE on the “Best;” but the inner workings are identical. Performance from any of the three is essentially the same, so why are we obsessed with the idea that only the “Best” will serve our purpose? One theory is that if it is priced higher, it must be of better quality.

This is exactly what the manufacturing plant had in mind when they diverted some items from the assembly line in order to place on each the ELITE sticker; therefore, assuring those items to appeal to the ones of us who scoff at ownership of second best.

Since manufacturing costs are the same with the exception of the small amount of chrome and a three-cent sticker, the profits are much greater. Dependency on our fetish for ownership of the “top of the line” has caused sales to skyrocket for the “Better” and the “Best.”

Recently another method of advertising has surfaced. The listing of certain items with the words, “Choice of Professionals.” If a Handyman sports these tools or equipment, the die is cast. His hammer must be better than the one that we own that was rated as Good.

After all, he depends on it for his livelihood. Perhaps the ownership of this high-quality hammer is responsible for his professional status. With this in mind, we rush to the store and make our purchase.

We immediately retire the “Good” hammer to the depths of the unused, rusting tools underneath our workbench. Now, we proudly display our latest acquisition; the “ELITE” one; in ‘plain view,’ on our workbench. At last we will be able to “run with the big dogs.”

Although, little thought is given to the fact that we hardly know which end of the hammer is the business end; we nevertheless can now inspire ‘awe & admiration’ from our peers.

We own “THE CHOICE OF PROFESSIONALS.” Proof of the superiority of our latest acquisition occurs with our first use of the product. The thumb that we strike with ‘Top of the Line; “ELITE,” Hammer,’ does not hurt half as badly as with our former, inferior; “Good” model did.

Demijon

My order for a ‘good,’ Hammer came today. It will suffice for general use. I will still display my ELITE hammer in my tool belt as an advertising logo of my Professional status. Dj.

Posted in Uncategorized
Post navigation
? Older posts
Origin of The Demijon Team:
A Pictorial History
The Demijon Kid
demijon kid
Sergeant Demijon
Sargent Demijon
Jay Henry and Susie Mae
mom dad hug
Wedded Bliss
portrait
Dressed to Kill
hiawassee
Beach Bums
beach
Blog Author
dad-back-yard.jpg
Copy Editor
Copy Editor
Celebration
The Demijon Team
In Memory of Th’ Bear; Chief of Security
bear-150×150
Meta

Log in

Archives
Archives
Copyright © 2018 The Demijon Blog

CURDS & WHEY:

BUTTER CHURN’S; The usual position of the Stone Churn, was always on the hearth, just to the right of the open Fireplace. The natural warmth of the fire, slowly soured the whole milk that would later be agitated by an up and down motion of a ‘DASHER.’

The dasher was nothing more than an X of wood mounted on the end of a dowel rod that extended through a hole in the removable top of the Churn.

When the milk had soured, it thickened and formed a substance that was commonly called Clabber. Around this substance was a thin liquid that was referred to as Whey. If the Clabber was removed from the Whey and broken up, it resembled present-day Cottage Cheese; and the taste is much the same. Many people enjoy eating Clabber and it contains almost as much nourishment as the whole milk.

A famous Nursery Rhyme makes reference to Clabber. Think and You’ll remember: “Little Miss Muffett”, don’t you? She sat on her Tuffett (?), and ate her Curds and Whey, or “Clabber.”

If the Clabber was left intact, the churning process began by working the dowel rod up and down and continually stirring the Curds and Whey until lumps of yellow substance floated to the surface. These lumps were removed when the churning was complete by means of a wooden paddle; salted and packed into a mold and left to harden. This delicacy is Butter, calories and all.

The by-product from the churning process was by no means the least of the treats that resulted from this rather unique operation. After the Butter was removed, the mixture that was left in the churn had somewhat thickened. It was certainly not thrown out; but was prized as a companion to a snack or even a meal of Cornbread and was heralded as Buttermilk. Chilled and served at tables in the finest homes, Buttermilk was, and still is, considered a staple for many.

From start to finish, nothing was wasted in the making of Butter or “churning.” It was an operation that required little enough energy in order to produce so much in the way of subsistence for the average family. Churning usually was done when the other more important chores were completed. Sitting by the Fireplace and listening to the radio or reading, with the only sounds being the crackling of the fire and the thump-thump of the dasher, as a very important procedure was initiated.

The conversion of whole Milk into first; “CLABBER”; then to Butter; and finally, the mouth watering taste of a product synonymous with a ‘pone’ of “Cornbread.” “A delicious glass of “BUTTERMILK!”

WARNING: Some folks have become addicted to the tantalizing taste of “Buttermilk;” and have been known to create Butter illegally, in order to satisfy their “BUTTERMILK – FIX!”

Some Nurses

Why is it; when we are sick and are first put within the disposal of a Nurse that has promised to prepare us by ; sitting us on a cold, metal, folding chair in a room where the temperature is minus 28 degrees; and this is without, a stitch of cloth covering our quaking body.

She then attaches three or four needles into our frames; with hoses attached to some part of the entirely naked body; and tells you not to move until the Doctor has examined you to determine how many of the prescriptions he can write that offer a rebate percent of the total price for the writer of “Th’ ‘Scrip.”

He; then began to tug and squeeze the same parts of your body that the Nurse has left bruises on; while humming and asking you; “Does this hurt? He tells the Nurse to prepare the new machine that was delivered yesterday and we’ll see if it will work as good as the Salesman said it would.” By now; we have frozen to the metal chair and every part of our poor body is crying for: “Just a little relief from these folks that are trying their best to kill me; is all I’m asking for: Dear Lord.”

When we try to convince the Nurse that our body hurts all ever and; she says; ” I know; You’re trying to avoid as much work for the Doctor and less money on the finish sheet.

What does she do first? “She snatches your right foot and throws it over your left shoulder; while standing on your left ankle. This is taught in Nurses school for extra credit. When we try to raise our head to holler; she plants a fist just under your chin. The next procedure is to toss that little short gown at you and and makes no effort to leave when you have to remove every stitch of clothes you wore when you entered this building.

Surely: the young lady was carrying out the orders from the Doctors and was not hanging around to gather visual memories to add to the stories that were popular at the next “Girls Night Out: meeting. If this was her intentions; She was disappointed when the patient was an 87 year old “Codger” that could hardly move, and not some handsome “Football Star,” or; at least, a celebrity of some kind. “Oh, Well: You can’t win-um all; every time”

Finally; we are freed from this particular appointment with a few days free, until the next one; when this will start all over again. “You know:” “I’ve been wondering why Mama and I get Birthday Cards, Valentines, Christmas Cards; and some Cards, I’ve never heard of; from some strange, unknown Doctors;” “At our age, it takes things a while to sink in; but I’ve beginning to realize that “WE DO OUR PART” to help keep bread on the Doctors tables.

“Our biggest problem, is being allowed, at least a few days relief; between Doctor’s visits, to recuperate from the last one.

Demijon

“Fix It Quietly”.

My business after retirement was that of a handyman for a rental agency in a resort community. The first work order I received on the beginning of the work week was to repair the broken lock on the entrance door of a beach cottage. The fact that the house could not be secured was important to the renters, the agency and the owner. Simple repairs were made promptly by a handyman rather than wait for the busy contractors. Also, a perk for the owner was that the repairs were usually less expensive.

On arrival at the cottage, I knocked on the door and announced that I had been sent to ensure that unauthorized entry could not be attained. A look of despair appeared on the occupants’ faces as they asked in unison, “Are you not here to fix the television? We reported it last night and we have already missed “Good Morning, America” and “Regis & Kelly.”

This particular cottage just happens to be situated on the ocean front in one of America’s favorite vacation spots, the Carolina coastline; with miles of unspoiled beaches, picturesque sand dunes and warm ocean breezes practically at the doorsteps. In addition, rent for this house will approach the $1,500.00 mark for the week and yet, the most desired item of interest for the occupants was the television.

Assuring them that I would take a look at the appliance upon completion of the needed repairs to secure the house, I turned my attention to the inoperative lock. With all the doors in good working order, I moved to the television. Inspecting the wires and cables, I found that they were all attached and in the proper sequence. I then pressed the switch marked ON and the set responded with a colorful likeness of Bugs Bunny and the sound of “What’s up Doc?”

“What did you do,” they then asked. “We tried everything and it simply would not work.” Reluctant to tell them that all they had to do was to turn the set on, I replied, “There must have been a loose connection.”

Upon leaving the cottage, my old devious mind began working overtime and conceived the idea of placing a sign on each television set stating, “PLEASE TURN ON BEFORE VIEWING.” This proposal was immediately rejected by the rental office for fear of offending a few of the vacationers; therefore, I had no choice but to bow to the wishes of the signers of my tiny paycheck.™

This incident serves to prove that the order of priorities differ in importance, dependent upon whether or not rent is being paid or received. Some assume the attitude of “Why shouldn’t the television be turned on and tuned to our favorite program when we arrive? After all, we’re paying big bucks for the privilege of enjoying our vacation.”

Then, of course, there are the Agencies views that no one should ‘rock the boat’ because; After all, they’re paying big bucks to enjoy their vacation.

Demijon
You’re OLD when you hear SNAP, CRACKLE, POP, “FROM YOUR OWN BODY” as you rise from the breakfast table.

PRICE’S

Glancing through a catalog this morning prompted the feeling that I am very old and decrepit. I’ll admit that the “wim & wigger and witality” of youth has long since abandoned my frame, but the possibility that I am on the downhill slope of an exciting life hit me like a ton of bricks.

What grasped my attention from the goods advertised in the catalog was the cost of general, everyday, run-of-the-mill clothing. I’m sorry, but I cannot bring myself to pay $36.00 to $55.00 for an average shirt or $89.50 for a pair of trousers. And, “OH MY GOSH,” there was even a pair of flip-flops listed for $38.00.

Call me an old fogie if you must; but I vividly remember selling shirts for $1.89, trousers for $4.95 and shoes for $6.95 while working part-time in a department store as a teenager. It’s important to note that this was quality, brand name, merchandise and not seconds.

I can even remember buying suits for $35.00 after Susie Mae and I were married.
Thank goodness for the discount stores and warehouse clubs, without which I would be required to go downtown with those two nice Policemen, due to improper attire.

Another draw-back of catalog shopping is the fact that the small, medium, large sizes mean nothing when attempting to fit them on an out of shape, bulging body that is hovering on the far side of Medicare. The cost of returning the merchandise is sometimes more costlier that we can buy the same item for at UNCLE SAM”S BOTTOM DOLLAR.

It is obvious that I will continue to garner stares and snickers when I appear in public wearing an entire wardrobe that cost less than the flip-flops in the catalog. This is the least of my worries since, everyone is aware that a pleasing personality is far more important than good looks.
I rest my case.
Jay Henry

“TELL ME ABOUT IT.”

One would certainly think that this is a request for information. Not so. It is a form of understanding. For instance, you mention to someone that your power bill increased during the recent heat wave and their response is, “Tell me about it.” Now they do not want to hear all of the gory details. Neither do they care. Usage of this phrase is more or less a concurrence. They are simply stating that their bill also increased during the same period.

To fully understand these unique expressions, one must be somewhat familiar with the manner of speech symmetrical with the southern dialect. If, for example, the listener did not receive an elevated bill, the reply would be: “How about that.” There is no need for a lengthy explanation as to why.

If, by chance, you think that some of the expressions are used incorrectly, think again. When you hear one say, “I ain’t never going to do that again;” just remember: That the usage of the words; am not, would be incorrect in this particular sentence. The key word here is NEVER. To say “I am not” does not carry the same emphasis as, “I am not “NEVER;” which is incorrect. To use “I am never going to do that again;” indicates your feeling toward NO; whereas “I ain’t NEVER;” simply means; “HAIL-NO!” “See what I mean”?

Other expressions that are typical of this colorful language include “The hell you say.” “Where do you get off.” and “Sheete.” “Th’ hell you say.” denotes complete surprise and / or disbelief. This is far more assertive than merely, “I don’t believe you.” Inquiring of someone as to, “Where do you get off telling me what to do, is more or less a nice way of saying, “What the hell do you mean?” The other word, “sheete,” can be used for many meanings depending on the context of the statement. As self/disgust, if you miss the nail; and hit your thumb with a hammer; “It’s simply, lack of knowledge, as in.” “You don’t know sheete;” and to emphasize another word as in, “Sheete NO.” The latter two words is; quite often; used to close an unwanted conversation.

Not only is the language colorful, it better describes the true meaning of what one is attempting to imply, as in. — “Yankees are like hemorrhoids.’ “They come down:” “They stay down:” “And they both are a pain in the Rear.”

“Tell me about it!”

“Demijon!”

“HAVE YOU EVER ?”

NOTE: Three of the ‘Seven,’ of your closest friends, have been sworn to secrecy. However; You knew about this rigid test when you were nothing more than an “ASSISTANT, Magistrate’s Helper.”

It is a well-known fact; that two of the crowd that you “Run-‘With;” tried to talk you out of becoming a candidate for “PRESIDENT”. The rest were looking for easy jobs within the ‘CHIEF’S CABINET’: “IF.” By chance; you were elected.

Okay::: Here we go with the questionnaire!!!

“HAVE YOU EVER??? – Folded a road map; the correct way, on the first try?

Eaten breakfast in the dining room of a Hotel to the tune of $18.95; and then walked half a block past a restaurant offering breakfast for $2.99?

Been unable to look up the correct spelling of a word in a dictionary; simply because you do not know how to spell it?

Have You Ever? tried to cut a tough piece of steak on a paper plate? with a plastic knife?: On your lap?

Noticed that the last few minutes of a newscast is filled with drivel from the anchor and co-anchor making a weak attempt to be funny?

Used the excuse, I bought you a birthday card: But I misplaced it. When I finally found it, I was embarrassed to send it.

Spent hours shopping for the perfect wedding gift? carefully wrapped and mailed it? And never received a thank-you note?

Tried in vain to open a drawer with something sticking up and you cannot push it down until you open the darn thing?

Have You Ever? been told by a manager at a restaurant, that there will be a forty-five minute wait for a table when there are only two other folks in the building?

Noticed that everyone on the sidewalk stops to watch; when you try to parallel park?

Sent money to “Save the Cockroaches” Foundation,” and the next week received twenty seven requests from other charities?

Ever noticed that the one roll of film that gets lost is the one with twelve shots of you; sunbathing in the nude?

Pointed out to the waiter that your coffee cup has lipstick on it; and watched as he wiped it off on his apron and set in back on the table?

Had the faucet in the restaurant bathroom splash water on the front of your pants and noticed, that everyone turned to look at you as you came out?

Explained in detail about your operations, and all of your aches and pains; when your waitress asks: “I’m Trisha. I’ll be your server tonight”. “HOW ARE YOU?”

If your answer to any; or all, of the above “life’s little frustrations,” is in the affirmative: You are a completely, normal “Senior Citizen”; and you should ignore those who consider you, “Weird.”

EDITORS NOTE: “These Important Questions; have been cleared by the staff at “ASSISTANCE MAGISTRATES,” “Local # 427.”

Demijon; – https://demijon.us/