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Author Topic: Geezerville  (Read 2939 times)

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Magispook

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« on: June 17, 2005, 04:38:42 PM »

It seems every neighborhood has a yard that is a kid magnet.  Our yard is the one for local kids.  Actually we have two yards (kid magnets)--one with the swingset etc., and one with a tree made for climbing and the rest of it just for doing cartwheels, playing tag, etc.  That may be what draws the kids.  Or maybe it's because we always seem to have popsicles and drinks available.  Kids will be kids and sometimes they mess up the yard even when my daughter tries to be responsible and tell them to keep it clean.  And there is always the concern some kid will get hurt and a lawsuit will  follow.  But I let them play in the yard regardless.  Here's why:  When I was a kid, there was a great yard with a gentle slope and nothing in it whatsoever.  We kids love to play tag in the yard when we could.  The problem was the yard belonged to a grouchy old man (Mr. Moran) who didn't want kids in his unfenced side yard (well away from the house).  There was nothing in the yard to damage.  It was just an open, unfenced yard.   He simply did not want kids (or anyone else) on his property.  One day he was out yelling at us when the father of one of the other kids came out to see what was happening.  Thinking back, the dad was probably only about thirty or so but I recall  his remarks to this day and I live by them.  Mr. Moran was within is rights.  It was his property to do with as he pleased and that included denying access to the local kids.  The young dad led his children away and remarked loudly for all, including Mr. Moran, to hear:  "I hope I never get so old I forget what it's like to be a kid."  Wise words to live by.  :D
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Creekwoman

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« Reply #1 on: June 24, 2005, 06:27:33 PM »

I remember an uncle telling my Dad that my brothers shouldn't be allowed to have all the neighbor boys over to play ball in our yard.  Later he was upset that Dad let the my brothers pull their cars up in the yard to park.  You couldn't park on the street and there really was no place else to park.

After listening to this for years Dad finally told my uncle that someday when the boys (and me too later) were grown and on their own he'd worry about the yard.  Until then he was going to enjoy his sons and all the activity and joy they created.

Sure enough, after the boys were grown Dad and Mom hired a gardener and had the manicured yard my uncle always thought they should have.  

Mom and Dad have been gone a long time now but we kids still remember our home as a place where we enjoyed being and our friends still mention at times how nice our parents were.

Yards, flowers, etc. can be replaced but a childhood can't!

Thanks Magispook for taking me down memory lane.....clear back to the 50's! :lol:
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Magispook

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« Reply #2 on: June 24, 2005, 08:44:48 PM »

Seems like yesterday, don't it.   :D
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Magispook

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« Reply #3 on: July 17, 2005, 11:21:32 AM »

I managed to get my wife to go for a walk with me this morning.  She rarely has or makes the time for a walk.  Took my typical route.  We've been married nigh onto thirty years but it was so refreshing to walk and hold her hand.  When we were first married, we could not walk and hold hands in Korea--I was white and she was Asian and that kind of thing was looked down upon.  So I still get a thrill being able to walk together and hold hands.  Got a real suprise this morning though.  I noticed a bunch of blackberry bushes with ripe blackberries.  The only thing I had for a container was my hat and we filled it up.  I used to pick blackberries almost weekly when I was a kid a long, long time ago.  Happy to say I haven't lost my touch.  Gonna go back and get some more tomorrow.   :) Two thrills for the price of the time it took for a simple walk.  Yep, I woke up on the top side of the grass this morning instead of the bottom.  Good way to start the day.  Sometimes the simple things, the things from your youth, seem to be the most satisfying.
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Kay

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« Reply #4 on: July 17, 2005, 12:26:11 PM »

Magispook, you're a joy and a delight. Your musings and ramblings remind me of something just on the tip of my mind...I can't quite reach the memory, but I know it's a pleasant one. I strongly urge you to contact your local newspaper and offer to write a column of the same sort of thing you post here. Take some samples in and let the editor read them, and I bet he'll be as entranced as I am by your skill as a wordsmith, and you'll have a nice supplement income for an hour's work a day on your computer.  :huggy
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Creekwoman

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« Reply #5 on: July 17, 2005, 12:44:39 PM »

Kay's right Magispook!  You do have a way with words that I enjoy too.  It would be interesting writing a column for a newspaper, have you ever considered it?
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Magispook

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« Reply #6 on: July 17, 2005, 03:15:24 PM »

I have considered it.  I have, on occasion, sent submissions to publications and have even had a few published.  I do need to find a venue for my writing style. Those who have met me will tell you I write like I talk and I jump from one topic to another without logical transitions although it will all seem to finally come together at the end.  I suspect that gives editors cause for some serious headbanging.  So posting here at OCH seems a good place at present.  I have posted some of my Ponderings here but others I have not as they would fit into the controversial arena, sure to alienate some and ally others.  And I am dedicated to doing my part in keeping OCH a friendly board where civility is cherished.  In the meantime, I'll just post here when and if I come across something to write about.  I really appreciate the kudos.  They motivate more than most can guess.  Sometimes we all need some encouragement.  I've toyed with writing professionally  but I would have to get the proper credentials and education to be taken seriously by any publisher.  And I need to avoid a trap.  Some may know I am a magician.  After I retired from the military, I supplemented my small pension by performing and teaching magic, in addition to conducting investigations.  The teaching part was fun--I like to teach, especially when I see that "light come on" when someone has been struggling to master a technique and suddenly masters it.  But I fall into the perfectionist psych pattern and I found that I no longer enjoyed performing magic as much when I was being paid for it because I wanted my customer to get the absolute best bang for the buck.  I would spend hours preparing for a show.  I'd hate to get worked up about repeatedly writing the absolute best article for my client and lose out on the joy that comes from writing recreationally.  Following that logic, I guess part-timing as a gigalo is out of the question as well, eh?  :magic
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Magispook

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« Reply #7 on: August 07, 2005, 02:09:27 PM »

Fried Green Apples - I’m rapidly approaching the half century mark in this body.  Three weeks from now but who’s counting, eh?   Perhaps it’s because I’m out of work at present and have more time to reflect but lately I’ve had a hankerin’ for a mess of fried green apples, some fried green tomatoes, and buttered-up Johnny cakes.   Maybe some coal miner’s strawberries (pinto beans) with chow-chow on the side.  And a baked potato split in half with a strip of cheese running lengthwise on both halves.   Foods from my childhood.  Is it because there seems to be more threat from outside forces beyond my control and I subconsciously desire to return to safer times?  I don’t know.  But some food related thoughts have started to bubble to the surface.  Such as the recollection that if we kids picked the blackberries, we were sure to have a blackberry cobbler that day.  I can still taste that treat with cold milk poured over it.  And I can still taste the tartness of the fried green apples and I still know that, until you’ve eaten them for a week or so, you’re prone to a case of the backyard trots.   Those food items are not high on the list of acceptable foods for diabetics.   Oh well, I guess I’ll pull out the old “moderation in all things” rationalization I use to stray from the diet on occasion.   And, my lab results were good the last time I went to see the doc.  Two rationalizations to support my walk on the wild side.  My neighbor has an apple tree with big ‘ol green apples on it right now, seductively calling “pick me--you know you want to eat some apples.”  If I cook ‘em up using Splenda instead of sugar and Pam instead of butter, I should be OK.  I can’t help  thinking these cravings are emotional rather than physiological.  I need to take care of both to provide for my family.  Third supporting rationalization, eh?   Any other baby-boomers out there encounter similar gnawings to return to things from your own past?
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Kay

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« Reply #8 on: August 07, 2005, 02:41:19 PM »

Oh yes, lately I've been doing more than my share of nostalgic daydreaming. I'm back in my in-law's mountain vacation house tucked way up in the Maroon Bells of Colorado, waking up to the smell of coffee and bacon. Nothing to do but rest and fish for rainbow trout over in Beaver lake, or bake bread on that cast iron stove. I can smell the spice of the late summer leaves in the forest outside. Or maybe I'm back with my Dad hunting for windfall persimmons and hickory nuts in the woods around Ft. Bragg. He loved to put those nuts into Sunday morning waffles for my sister, my mother and me. Daddy was one of a kind, a true patriot who loved classical music and literature, who would sing operatic tenor arias as he puttered around our apartment on the base.

I remember being a child and hating the feeling of not being in control, or having adults in authority over me, chafing to be an adult and out on my own. And now that I'm certainly an adult and past my prime, I long for those days when I could leave everything to someone else, someone who watched over me and made sure I had everything I needed, who took care of me when I was hurting and sad. I guess the grass will always be greener on the other side of memory, won't it? Maybe that's what will make heaven so sweet...
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weaver

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« Reply #9 on: August 07, 2005, 04:55:34 PM »

Growing up in a Federal Houseing Project in Alabama, my only refuge was the woods. I would go as far from the rows of brick apartments as I could get and play in the woods and fields. I would climb to the tops of the old oak trees that lined the cotton fields and swing from tree to tree for, it seemed like, miles.

The cotton fields stretched along the banks of the Warrior River and were edged and seperated by patches of woods. When it rain the plowed ground yielded scores of Indian arrow heads that I would lash to wooden or cane shafts and shoot with simple limb boughs bent and tied with cord to make a bow.

I hunted deer and dreamed of actually shooting one. For an 8 year old boy it was the ultimate fantasy. With no father and only minutes a day with an exhausted Mother I had little guidance and less supervision. The woods were my parents and my friends.

Even now when I am drained and depressed my best rejuvenation is a walk in the woods. The mystery, the silence, the solitude, the safety and the security of majestic trees to hide in and lean on are my best answer to the stress of dealing with the human jungle.
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Magispook

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« Reply #10 on: August 07, 2005, 05:32:03 PM »

Gee, I had completely forgotten the joys of tree-climbing.
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