SILENT NIGHT

It was late, and all the little ones were asleep. Lori was with her friends, and as usual I was the odd man out. So I went out to my fire pit in the back yard. It was still snowing, and about six inches coverd everything. It was beautifull. The trees were magic in their winter coats. I took the plywood cover off my circle of stones, and gathered wood &kindling from under the trailer. My woodsman skills soon rewarded me with a good warm fire. I pulled a Milwaukee's Best out of my cooler, and cracked it open..drinking deep.

I was happy. I was alone, but I was happy. As my supply of" the beast " decreased my happiness increased. I wasn't getting drunk, but I had a nice mellow buzz going. I very quietly, almost plantiffly began to sing Silent Night as I gazed into my cheerfully crackling fire. Thinking about stables, and mangers, and the real reason we celebrate this winter holiday. I began to weep. (as I am now) I began to whisper a tearfull thank you for a miraculous gift. Thinking "Now It's Christmas." I didn't know it yet, but I was about to recieve a beautifull celestial Christmas present.

I never heard the car approach, or the door. You never do. I did hear the crunch crunch crunch of his shoes in the snow, and turned (beer in hand) to find a sherrif's deptuy at my side. Was I going to jail? was it my fire? No one complained before...."Evening son." He said cheerfully. "Can I share your fire?" "Sure!" I replied "Is everything alright?" I started to tell him I had permission from the landlord for my fire pit, and that I'd only had 4 beers... He raised his hands, and stopped me. "your fine son. Your neighbor has had a problem with her medication. I'm just waiting for the ambulence." As I looked at the trailer next door where he'd parked another cruiser pulled in. When this deputy had talked to my neighbor he approached my fire and said.."Jerry Fred? Is that You?" (tearing up again here) It was a cousin I hadn't seen since i lived in Monterey Tenn. Years ago!!! Only my mother's people call me jerry fred. My Aunt Francis got that started. (GOD! The gift that keeps on giving. The ghosts, and emotions writing this are stirring!!! I am weeping open now. Joyfully. Bittersweetly. OHhhh!! it hurts so good.)

WE stood around my fire in the cold snowy darkness, our hearts warmed. WE caught up on each other's lives. Shared photographs, and remembered Christmases past. It was pure joy. We included the other deputy in our walk down memory lane, And I savored this moment in time. knowing it for the miracle it was. I was part of the conversation, and yet part of me was not. Part of me was watching the whole thing. Recording it in my heart. rejoicing in the magic of it.

WE were startled out of our Christmas memories by the crackle of radio traffic. It seems the ambulence had went to the wrong trailer park. (there was another just up the road.) My cousin was on his radio. In that wonderfull Tennessee accent I have come to love so much, he said... "Yore in tha wrong trailer court. look for the far. There's a feller got hisself a far goin. It's the trailer next to that..!0-4? And so it was that my little campfire guided the ambulence to where it was needed. Just like the star guided the wise men so long ago.

joe says ...... . Merry Christmas

THANK YOU FROM A GRATEFULL NATION...

HERE IS A MUSICAL TRIBUTE TO YOU ALL FROM A GRATEFULL CITIZEN, STARTING WITH THE "WAR TO END ALL WARS".....

THE ANSWER IS YES!!

YOU ASK...


AND I WAS GLAD WHEN THEY SAID UNTO ME LET US GO UNTO THE HOUSE OF THE LORD...

IMMANEUL GOD WITH US....


THE PROMISE..


HE ASKS...

DREAMS..THE DEAD..AND THE LIZZIE ANN GRANT HOUSE

I'll never forget the day we went to look at that house. It was a cold windy day. The turning leaves of early autum filled the air, and dusted the ground.It was grey, threatening rain. The white wood of the porch, and trim were faded,and peeling. The red tin roof rusting. There were deep woods across the gravel road, and the trees grew almost right up to the house on three sides in what passed for a yard. It was overgrown with weeds,and brush everywhere except for a small dirt area seperating the house from the gravel road.
There was a well for water in the front yard. And an outhouse in the back. The ground sloped steeply at the back of the house making the rickety back porch high off the ground. There was an overgrown path to the outhouse which was right up against the right of way for the Tennessee Central railroad.
The landlord said."I'll have to mow this back some tammara fore wunna you yunguns git snakebit." Then he led us into the house. There was a pot bellied stove in the living room. There was a big iron bed in the front bedroom my sister would have. The kitchen had a woodburing cookstove, and the little bedroom off of it that my brother ,and i would share had a four foot snake! It writhed across the floor& into a hole in the baseboard. "I'll have to board that up too."
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A history of the lizzy Ann Grant house would be better read with the lights on. Starting with the night in the 40s when three women in the house one nite suddenly heard church bells. Yet when they rushed outside heard nothing. The house was less than a quarter mile from the church. Nobody else in the little comunity around the church heard anything that night,and no one was at the church. Then there is the fact that of the three people that died in the house, two died of brain anurisms. The one that didn't sucumb immediatly would go mad,have fits, and attack,and beat her daughter. The wallpapper still bore the marks where she would claw the walls from her bed when we lived there.
There were four corpses that lay in state in the house over the years. that used to be commen in the days before everybody used funeral homes. We didn't know this at the time. We had relaxed after the snake hole was patched, and the brush cut back some. Fall had turned to winter. A snow covered everything. We had a little cedar Christmas tree several huge care packages from Wisconsin full of presents and treats. We were happy. We didn't know we were poor. The only contact with the outside world was a white plastic radio usually tuned to WLS in Chicago. Our happiness in our perpetually cold little house came to an end shortly after Christmas....
We awoke one night to my mother screaming! She told us she saw a casket with a man in it, surrounded by flowers. When she related what she saw to my aunt Golda the next day, she said she had described to a T the last funeral that had taken place in the house. We slept with the lights on a lot after that. Winter melted into a lush green spring. The brush creeped back toward the house. One stormy night we returned home from Aunt Golda's. The wind was moaning in the trees. WE had all gathered in my sisters room for some reason, when we heard the noise of someone in the kitchen! We all followed mom into the room...The back door was wide open. There were wet footprints from the ladder leading to the attic to the back door. Rain penatrated the screendoor in gusts, the wind roared outside in the trees....
That was pretty much the last straw. for my mom. We moved into the Monterey housing project soon after that.
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There is a locally famous ghost story about "The ghost of overhead bridge" Legend has it when you cross the old wooden bridge over the narrow railroad cut at night that your headlight s fail. Or that if you turn off your engine parked on the bridge it won't restart. It's said that on foggy cold nights his red lantern can be seen waving down in the cut. It was my grandfather jerry holloway that found the body.
Just below the cut through mountain there was a switch. This switch had to be thrown twice daily to route trains to their rightfull destinations. A train hitting a closed switch from the other track would derail. Two men were sent down the cut one in the daytime, one at night. My grandad had the midnight shift. He would take his kerosene lantern, and walk the track five miles to the cut,and through it to the little shack by the switch where his friend waited with coffee on the small woodstove. But not on this night.
Grandad was just past the bridge a little over halfway through the cut when saw something gleaming on the track in the glow of his lantern. It was his friends pocket watch. He stooped and retrieved it thinking to return it to him. He walked a bit farther,and the horror began. He found a hand. He began to run...calling his friend's name...a foot&leg....and then the gory mess....
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My mom was big on dreams.She used to buy these dream books that would help you interpet them. They all meant something to mom. Usually something bad. I never really knew why until she told me this story,about this dream........
She was standing on the front . porch of the family farmhouse.The house just up the road from the Woodcliff Babist Church where my Aunt Golda still lives to this day. A grey hearse pulls up in front of the house, and her brother Tom gets out wearing a blue suit. Her other brother bill follows wearing a brown suit. They walk up to the house.
The next day she is standing on the front porch, and just like in the dream, a grey hearse pulled in front of the house. My uncle Tom gets out wearing a blue suit,and behind him my uncle Bill wearing a brown suit. they walk up to the house. There had been an accident at the sawmill, The huge saw had hit a knot, and pulled grandad holloway into the blade , cutting him in the chest. He died in my mother's arms.

Joe said all that.

LET EVERYTHING THAT HAS BREATH PRAISE THE LORD

TWO WERE BAPTIZED IN THIS MORNING'S SERVICE!

DREAMSCAPES 2

What do they mean? Are they guides, or predictors? Are they just random images? Our subconsciense replaying old memories, and plugging in new information, in a symphoney of impossibilities. Your grandmother, and the astronauts, going bowling, at your church....




I was at a house I've never seen before in real life, with a couple I've never met. In this dream they were my Grandmother, and Grandfather, and I loved them in that childlike way, reserved only for grandparents. I was blissfully happy, safe, content. There is no joy like the joy of a dream.I,think perhaps because it is the joy of wish fullfillment.

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I was in their front yard. It was dark.(In the back of my mind I reconized the front yard of my Aunt Goldie's in Monterey) Grandfather was with me, and I was astride an inflateable motorcycle. (you just can't make this kinda stuff up when your awake) I pulled the inflator handles on each side of the bike (just like the pull strings on a talking doll), and the bike started to swell between my thighs. When we got it inflated it felt real. Solid. Steel,rubber, leather. It was a large motorcycle, black, with lots of chrome. And it wouldn't start.

*************************************************************************************
I was crying like a child. Sobbing uncontrolably in my grandpa's strong soft arms. He was shushing me, and trying to comfort me. I was telling him I grew up in the north. That I missed "all this" I called him daddy. And I was awake. And sad.

In real life I'm terrified of motorcycles, and never met either of my Grandfathers. I hope I See this one again, in my dreams.not the motorcycle. Unless I can ride it behind grandpa.
joe said all that

THE ARMORY, FLYNN'S LICK, AND THE GAMES PEOPLE PLAY

In the early 1960s I was a young convert of the Monterey Church Of Christ. One of my fondest memories of this time is the monthly Saturday night trips we used to make to the skating rink, in the big city of Cookeville. It was located in the gym of the old National Guard Armory. I still see it clearly in my mind, and hear the juke box.
My sister,and I lived for these nights. A chance at social interaction with our peers, and a temporary escape from the cultural isolation of being "yankies" in a small southern town in 1967.





I developed a very unique way of meeting girls, and breaking the ice, at the same time. I had learned to talk with an English accent watching The Beatles Cartoons, and Davy Jones, of The Monkees. Anna, and I got pretty good at it. So I would put a nickel in the jukebox, play one of these two songs, and when a girl would come rolling over...."Ello ello, who's the pretty gurl then eh?" Worked like a charm. There were times I'd have three or four young ladies to flirt with at a time. Pretty heady stuff for a fourteen year old. Picture me, at that age, John Lennon glasses, pinstripe bellbottoms,paisley shirt, and Beatle boots. And that accent..."Right then..hello."

Now lets fast forward about twenty-five years...CLUNK! ZOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM..CLUNK!
It's a hot summer day in Tennessee. circa nineteen ninety-three. Me, and my buddy Bobby Baker, are "adventure driving" as Bobby liked to call it. We used to love to cruise the small two lane blacktop & gravel roads of Jackson County. Ah the tales.. (Remind me to tell you about the time I got in the enclosure with the full grown mountian lion.) We made friends with an elderly couple who ran an oldtime country store way out in the sticks. They would feed us, and treat us like family whenever we would stop in. Thick sliced bologna sandwiches,cheese, and home canned pickled green tomatoes..0oh. We spent hours with those wonderfull people.

On this paticular trip though we were at another favorite J-County destination, Flynn's Lick. It's a local swiming hole on Flynn's creek, on a gravel road, way in the country.It is a beautifull place. We were Drinking a few cold ones. Sharing a..umm..*cigarette*. Bob playing his six string, and me singing. A group of locals made their way down the path from the road. Bob just kept playing, so I kept singing. As luck would have it, we were doing "Yesterday", and I usually sang Beatle songs in an English accent when I was with Bob.

Bob leaned close, and murmurrd. "Follow my lead." Next thing I know he's introducing himself, and his friend from London England..Gerold. And just like that, I was an instant celebrity, with a dozen people hanging on my every word. We played every Beatle song we knew, and a few of our own songs. It was a blast!
That was a part of the joy of my friendship with Bob, we played. We used to crank his stereo, and play air guitars, pretending to be whoever was on at the time. We were grown men in our 30s, and 40s. We didn't care. I never had to wear a mask with Bob. Never had to apologize. Never had to explain. I remember one afternoon we were out in the woods & fields behind his place "hunting". Well we had 22s anyway. What we were really hunting was a buzz. We were sitting in a thicket in the shade, Next thing I knew Bob picked up his rifle, and said. "Gooks in that tree line yonder captain."
I didn't miss a beat. I turned over on my stomach, scanned the treeline across the pasture from our hiding place, and said. "Get on the radio sargent, we gotta call this in to battalion."

AND I WAS GLAD WHEN THEY SAID UNTO ME LETS US GO UNTO THE HOUSE OF THE LORD

PEACEGROOVYBELLBOTTOMSHAREKRISHNADOPE

I have thought of this song so many times over the years. Had the single, and lost it, along with about 100 others in a "loan" to a "friend". I decided to go looking for it on u-tube today, and voila' !
That inspired this "trip" down 60s memory lane. Here are several songs that were pivotal in my voyage of discovery that was the 1960s. Smoke em' if you got em'
Far out!.......

THIS IS THE DAY THAT THE LORD HAS MADE..I WILL REJOICE AND BE GLAD IN IT

THIS IS THE DAY THAT THE LORD HAS MADE

Going to church with my Kacy girl who is in for a weekend visit. Daddy is happy happy happy.

THAT GREAT GIG IN THE SKY

Song writer, keyboardist, founding member of Pink Floyd, Richard Wright has died. My prayers go out to his friends, and family. To them I send my regrets, and say: this man will be missed, and remembered. Maybe now Roger Waters, and David Gilmour will stop fighting for a bit. Life is too short gentlemen.

"DAMN IT JIM"

There are certain moments in our lives, perfect moments, I told you so moments, gotcha moments, "there it is" moments. Moments when the comedy is just so right. Those rare OH YES! moments. Wait for it...
Jim Smoody is my friend, my mentor, the man that took a frustrated dishwasher, and made him a cook. I had been in that dead end position for awhile at the Holiday Inn in Cookeville, when Jim took over as executive chef. We hit it off immediately. Both transplanted yankees from Wisconsin, both old hippies,and die hard Beatle fans, we were soon close friends.
I had been cooking at home, and a huge Jeff Smith fan, but only cooked proffessionally very rarely. I have always had self confidence issues, and that big busy kitchen scared me to deasth. Jim started me out one day anyway, he taught me how to make a rue. Wait for it...

It didn't take long, and before I knew it ,I had been moved from the dish machine to doing prep for buffets, and doing bar orders, appetizers, nachos, deepfried finger foods. I learned Jim's recipies for spagetti sauce, and chili, and began doing all the prep cooking for Holiday Inn. Every week I made five gallons of spag. sauce, five gallons of chili, individual lasangas, and all the salad dressings & sauces like tartar, cocktail..etc. As my confidence grew I began to add my own flair to the spagetti sauce, and made the chili my owm. Employees started lining up with bowls, and the sale of nachos went way up. I was on my way. Wait for it...

I took over doing the daily lunch buffet,the friday nite seafood prep, and some of the civics groups. I'll never forget the day Jim handed me a stack of menus, and said. "Here, your noon Rotary now, I got things to do." And walked away. I was working without a net, and scared to death. But at the same time it was exhilarating. Except for menu orders off the line, everybody that ate there that day was going to be eating my food! I was the Flatulent gormet. I was happy. Then we got a new food & beverage director, two dishwashers quit, and I was back at the dish machine. When he introduced himself he told me his name, and said "And it's my way or the highway." We did not hit it off so well. Wait for it...

The drive chain on the dish machine began breaking. Being totally at sea when it comes to mechanical things, I called Jim. He would come, and fix it, and away I'd go. After the third or forth time Jim got tired of being interuptted, and said. "Look Kolbe here's how you fix this." And there it was. It was as if I had been waiting for this moment all my life. It was so perfect. So right. I Looked my boss, my friend, right in the eye, and with a completely straight face I said...
"DAMN IT JIM! I'M A DISHWASHER NOT AN ENGINEER."

THE WAY WE WERE...

I chose to remember The World Trade Center as it was, today. I choose to remember, and live in an America the way it was , today. To do otherwise gives the cowards who attacked us on that day a victory. I refuse to be afraid. I refuse to see them as a threat. I refuse to change , in any way , the way I live my life because of this riff raff. And thanks to all the brave men,and women serving in our armed forces this day... I can. From my heart, Thank you. God bless you, and keep you.

And God bless The United States Of America !

EVIDENCE

I awoke in the middle of the night, fully awake, alert. I never do that. I usualy come awake slowly. I sensed danger. I heard nothing, saw nothing, smelled nothing. I lay in the darkness. Instinctively I looked in the direction of my window, and as I did the ground adapter plug I had placed in that outlet a few days earlier, glowed into a small candle sized flame, and began to drip burning plastic onto the magazines, papers, and carpet below! I didn't see it, and look there. I looked there....And then it happened.

I lunged out of my bed, grabbed a t-shirt, off of my chair, and pulled the burning lump of plastic &metal out of the outlet. I smothered the small fire. Checked to make sure all was well, and ran to the pantry to check the breaker box for any danger there. I returned to my room. I stood trembling in the stinking smokey aftermath, thanking God for waking me up when he did.

Why else would I have awakened so alert? Why did I look right where I needed to, exactly when I needed to? As small as that flame was, I would have never noticed it until it was too late. If I hadn't woke up exactly when I did, I probably wouldn't have woken at all. Or I would have awakened to find my room on fire. The flames too big to handle, and been lucky to escape with my life, my family, and I having lost everything.

I am convinced I am being watched over. I know this. I know I, and my family, are prayed for every day, by members of my church family. And I know I serve a prayer answering God.

THE NAME OF THE LORD IS A STRONG TOWER
THE RIGHTOUS RUN INTO IT
AND THEY ARE SAFE

DREAMSCAPES

I had a very vivid, very creepy dream last night. A very X-FILES kind of dream. I couldn't get it off my mind at work. I kept coming back to it. Then I got inspired!
I wrote it all down as if it were a story, and decided to post it here....

The dream went along on two levels at once, and there were two distinct scenes one followed the other. On one level it was as if it were all a movie or something, and I was watching it. Detached from it. And at the same time I was in it. The lead character. Experiencing the terror.
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
It was on that lonely strech of route one oh one they found the bodies. The hot August night was full of flashing red, and blue emergency lights when I pulled up in my cruiser. And that smell. What in the name of God?

They had covered the heads, and hands with cloths from the ambulence. Or where the heads, and hands had been. Now all that was left were stains on the clothes, where the heads, and hands had been. Some were pale pink-red. Some were a sickly yellow-green.

There were eight of them. Sprawled in the road, and on the shoulder, like melted marionetts with their strings suddenly cut. I stood in this waking nightmare almost knowing.......What?
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
He lay on the livingroom sofa, burning with fever, raging, trying desperately to tell us...What? The family was struggling to hold him down, comfort him. Understand.
I stood watching helplessly, my training useless in this.

He began to swell. His arms, legs, face. His torso bulged. he was crimson. His cries were incoherent now as he screamed, and thrashed in the arms of his horrified family.
I fled to the porch. Retreating to the normallacy of the sunlit street, and houses.

"Unit six oh one, city, what is the eta on that bus?" I asked my radio. I could hear the wail of the approaching ambulence amid the crackle of the response.
Then I heard it. That crazy sound. What the....BLUUHH. The screaming ceased. I didn't want to go back in there. I knew what I would see. I wondered if it would be green, or red

LET EVERYTHING THAT HAS BREATH..PRAISE THE LORD

you and your national geographics...

I have a cartoon in one of them showing a man, and woman in bed amid a pile of fallen GEOGRAPHICS, and plaster, a large hole in the ceiling above them, more geographics visable through the hole. The wife, scowling, is saying. "You, and your National Geographics." I can relate. My National Geographic collection dominates my library (aka bedroom). I have an extensive collection starting in the early 50's and going almost UN-interrupted up to the present.
They fill a bookshelf over five feet long. They fill 4 plastic milk crates. I even have a couple of hundred in our storage rental. Now there are three stacks, over three feet tall, in my floor. I'm looking for "the place" to put them. I just acquired ten years worth of them free from a local man, who advertised.. "FREE..10 YEARS OF NATIONAL GEO GRAPHICS-MUST TAKE ALL OF THEM" I ask you..What could I do?

My love of National Geographic goes all the way back to Wisconsin (As so many of my foundational milestones do.) My, wonderfull, favorite, aunt Jessie had them in her magazine rack, and lying in the floor by her couch. I would also pore over them like treasures in the libraries of my school, and the city. I have always been fascinated by the photos, and stories,of far away places, and peoples. And,being a young boy in the early days of the space race, the magazine was a jackpot! I still go back now, and re-read those same issues that delighted me as a child.

But I'll never forget the day I struck the motherlode. I was at my great aunt Ruby's house,exploring as youing boys do, and saw the fold-down stairs. A secret room! I had to go up there. And what I found, to this day, sends delightfull shivers up my back. The small attic room was lined from floor to ceiling, on three walls, with hundreds, and hundreds of NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC magazines!!! I spent many contented hours in that little room,roaming the world, and the universe.

I look around me now, in this small room, and I see it reflected. Bookcases line the walls from floor to ceiling, on three walls. And many of those same magazines that filled my young mind with knowledge, and wonder, are here. In this room.

FROM HIS PERSPECTIVE

SPOOKY SCARY!!!

THE LATEST PICTURE OF THE JOE-MIESTER AT HIS POST.

LINE THE BIRDCAGE.

SCARE THE KIDS.

NEW POST LATER THIS EVENING....

MAKE A JOYFULL NOISE UNTO THE LORD

I HAVE SEEN THE OLIPHAUNT!

Those of you that are Tolkien fans know where I got that title. There is a scene in The Two Towers, in the chapter titled-Of herbs, and stewed rabbits, where Frodo, and Sam see men riding elephants. An unheard of thing for a hobbit to see. A creature of tales, and legends, of far away places.
And it was much the same in the time before the camera, and convieniant travel. It was normal for a person to be born, live, and die, within a hundred mile radius. A commen man would have to take it on faith that such things as elephants walked the earth, in strange, far away places.
It was much the same for me, and the international space station. Oh I knew it was there. I'd seen pictures, and video of it. I've even been to the Johnson Spaceflight Center in Alabama, where several components, and modules were built. The other night though I saw it with my own eyes, and it was beautifull!

I have a tracking gadget on my igoogle page that tracks the station in real time, 24-7. Very cool. I was looking at it the other night, anmd noticed it's orbit was bringing it down from Canada, across Minnasota,Iowa, and into Kentucky..IT WAS GOING TO CROSS TENNESSEE!! The tracking module is attached to google map, so I focused in to see just how close it was going to pass..It was going to be close..I zoomed in closer..#%&#@%!!
I grabbed my binoculars, and ran out into the front yard! LESSEE..IT should be coming out of the northweast..And there it was, the biggest, fastest moving "star" I had ever seen. IT PASSED RIGHT OVER MY HOUSE!! I was as excited as a child! Another silent zzzzooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooom across the night sky, and it was gone. But I saw it! I had actually seen the space station with my own eyes. It will never be merely a picture, or video clip to me again. It is very real.

GRAMMA COLBY..MY NUMBER ONE FAN

This picture was taken in 1965. Thats me with the German army helmet on. My gramma is in the doorway. My father struggled with alcoholism his entire adult life. When things would get "bad" at home gramma Colby would come and get me, and take me to her house. These "visits" got longer, and longer until I finally ended up living with her for several years. The happiest of my young life.

Like lightening after a summer thunderstorm memories of my gramma are flickering across the grid of my mind. No pattern, no ryhme, just random flashes of the past. Some brief semi phores of yesterday. Others whole memories brought sharply back into focus, complete with soundtrack in my head.

It's a bright sunny afternoon at 1452 N. Clark Street.Chigago Ill. Where my Grandma lived across the hall from her Daughter Dorthy. It's the late 50s. I'm watching Gramma open a can of spinnach, and singing the Popeye theme..."I'm strong to the finnish cause i eats my spinnich...I'm popeye the sailor maaaaan." I'm a little bitty thing. maybe 4 yrs old. I'm very happy. Winding around her knees. Hugging her legs. Standing on a kitchen chair. she lets me eat spinnach right out of the can..Like Popeye.

It's Halloween eve, the same year, Gramma is putting the final touches on my homemade costume. I'm happy, but fidgity. Having to stand still while she does things with some of the straight pins sticking out of her mouth Then it's off with the costume, and over to her foot-powered singer sewing machine. ( Grandma Colby used to make wedding gowns & formal gowns etc. From her home in Wisconsin, when my Dad was little. She was widely known, and sought after.) My homemade costume is "sputnick" Kinda tells the times doesnt it? It is red, and blue. it has a hat shaped like a rocket nose cone. Finally it's done, and Gramma takes me, and my sister trick or treating.

I'm in The Three Aces Bar. I'm banging away at the piano, and telling people I'm Liberacie. Guys are leaving me money. I like this.

It's a hot sumer night in Chicago. Gramma, and I are out on the fire escape, three floors up. The street , and sidewalks are alive with people. Across the street is the barbershop gramma takes me to, and the coffee house where the beatnicks hang out , man.(pegleg jeans, and beanies) Down at the corner is the nightclub my gramma said the mob owned. There is a mood, and an air of expectancey in the people. I'm very happy. I remember lots of hugs, and kisses from grandma this night. I remember being in her arms. And I remember the taxi-cabs. Hundreds it seemed. All flashing their lights, and blowing there horns as the went by in an endless line of multi-colored lights, and noise. They were on strike Gramma told me, and wanted chicago to know it.

I'm at the rock house in Praraie du Chien Wisc. We have just moved there from Chicago. It's huge! Two stories tall, with a full basement. And it's all ours. no apt. neighbors..sshh you kids be quiet.... I love it! Cornfields right up to the houses. The bluffs in the distance. And it's quiet, and dark outside...Little Jerry sees the stars for the first time. He doesn't Know yet he's going to be back with mom, dad, and Anna. That Gramma is going to live in another house. Gramma told anna, and I to stay out of the ally. She didn't want Jessie to see us, and know she'd moved into her neighborhood. jessie was her other daughter. My future favorite Aunt. I don't remember why she wanted this kept secret, but ofcourse Anna , and I headed straight for the alley. Creeping up the alley, looking for Jessies.

I am living at the rock house, and spending weekends at Gramma's. I get in trouble, and run crying across the alley, through Sherie Stiener's Yard, across busy Marquette road to Gramma's house...Only to find a very angry mother standing in the yard waiting for me. She led me home by my little hand, striping my bare legs with a switch as we go, and reminding me who she is, and where I live.

I'm standing at my upstairs back bedroom window. It's late friday nite. And even though I tell my mom I see her lights have come on, It's too late now. No friday night at gramma's. I stand crying at the window, looking at the lights in grammas house.

Later the same year I'm living at Gramma's on Marquette road watching saturday morning cartoons. Gramma is still asleep. I'm lying on my stomach, and I noticed that when I kinda wiggle back,and forth..it feels really good "down there" For some reason I feel naughty.


It's wintertime! I'm at Marquette road. I'm in the tiny pantry behind the kitchen, and just off the back room. it's a long narrow little room, lined with shelves of food, and stuff Aunt Jessie had canned. There is a window at the end of the room. I'm six yrs old. I'm sitting on a box, watching it snow, and standing watch on the bridge for the first time...

We're living at the house on Main St. Across from the river. (Where this picture was taken.) We walked over to a bar in the 4th Ward.(my Aunt Alice lived in the 4th Ward...Gramma's sister.) I Had my lever action winchester...Mattel-shootin shell..rifle.It had taken months of big eyed pleases to get it. Gramma let me stop, and throw rocks into the river as we crossed over the slough bridge into the 4th ward. Iremember stopping briefly at the Leigon club, and a cousin's house too. At one of these places I left my Mattel-shootin shell rifle. It was never found. We retraced our steps, and looked. I grieved over the loss of this toy for years. i still think of it.

It was one of those days you live for. i had so much fun! Riding my bicycle all over town with my buddies Earl Streeter, and Ricky Seeley. We played with army men at Earl's house. We stopped at Haymen's dept. store, and got candy. (I got Chuckles. remember them?) We explored a deserted factory building. It was a magical day, and I knew it, as it was happerning. When I got homeGrandma was crying. She held me on her lap, and told me I was moving to Tennessee to live with Mom, Dad, Tommy, and Anna. I never saw my buddies together that way again.

LET IT BE

I'll never forget the very first time I saw her. All the inlaws, and outlaws pressed against the glass. They were cooing, oohing, and tapping on the window, trying to get her attension. She just lay there with her little eyes shut, and her tiny little fists balled up on either side of her head. When I came in the room they parted like the Red sea (thinking because I lived with Lori at the time that I was naturally the father.) I walked up to the glass, and in a musical voice said. "kacy girl...." Those little eyes popped open, and she came fully awake! "Oooooohh." You could have heard a pin drop, and all eyes were on us. We have been inseperable ever since. I may not have contributed to her DNA, but I have always been kacy's daddy.

She was always a happy baby. No trouble at all. She was calling me daddy almost as soon as she could talk. I was there for her first steps. I changed most of her diapers, bathed her. helped her learn to read. It was so funny when she was a toddler her mom would go to work, and kacy would say "Bye bye momie" but when ever I would try to go somewhere it would break her heart..." Noooo!!! Dadee!!! Noooo I don't want you to gooo!!!" Her mother would have to pry her off my leg sometimes before I could leave the house. Definitely a Daddy's girl.

I got in church. I quit everything. Even smoking cigarettes. I wanted to be a good example for little eyes. Mommy was not so inclined. She was a pothead. She had to have her pot everyday. I mean every day. Any of these people that tell you pot is harmless, that it's not addictive, are full of crap. It IS dangerous. And yes, it is mentally addictive. I saw Kacy's mom spend Christmas present money..$450. On a bag of dope on Christmas eve. SHE BOUGHT HER DAUGHTERS NOTHING. I don't want to hear any garbage about legalizing marijuana. So I got kicked out of her trailer. I wasn't any fun anymore. Funny Kacy felt the same way about her.

I stayed as close as I could. Saw my girls as often as she would let me. I finally talked Lori into letting me stay weekends to watch the kids so she could work nights.(and party,and blow all her money on drugs) Things went from bad to worse. She eventually found her way into the meth croud. Kacy, and her sister's lives became hell. An endless series of losers in their home sucking up all the resourses, while they went without. I kept them fed as best I could, and ran off as much of the riff raff as I could get away with. I called children's services on her once, but nothing came of it.

One by one she lost all of her utilities. The cable first, then the phone, eventually the electricity. I gave her the money to catch that up. She bought pot. She got way behind on her trailer payments. I gave her $2400. out of my 401k to catch up her mortgage..She bought a pound of pot. SHE LOST HER TRAILER, AND IT WAS A NEW DAY!! I told her flat out I can take in the kids here ,but there ain't enough room for you. So thats how it was for awhile. She would come by,and take them to school, and back home. The rest of the time they stayed with me. There little lives...(oh God!!...I'm crying here...) ok.... There little lives became my life. I was so happy!!! I had my babies. Her visits became farther, and farther apart, and one day she just left town....and vannished.

Mackenzie's "real dad." Finally decided he wanted to take little mack, and there was nothing I could do. It broke our hearts. But Kacy, and I soldiered on. Years passed. I went to court, and had Lori's parental right terminated for dersertion. I was granted total custody, and was the happiest man on earth!!! I had the world by the tail. I was officially her daddy We had a great life..I thought.

I'm still trying to figure out exactly what happened. where I lost control. Kacy turned 13,and things started going down hill. She became sullen, argumentative. It's just her being a teenager every body said. Relax she'll be ok. She became rebellious. She quit going to church. She quit doing anything with me. I tried everything. Nothing worked.....She started getting in trouble with the law.

It started out with fights on the school bus. I went to court twice with her for that. Then she started running away. She got put on probation, and ran away twice more. The last time we went to court.(the 5th time) The judge put her in a group home for 9 months, to a year. my baby was gone.

She ran away from there too. That ended it. The judge put her in state's custody.She was supposed to be there until she was 18, but a month or so ago she managed to get herself put into foster care. It was with a friend of mine's mother, and was supposed to mean unlimited contact for me. That didn't happen. I mannaged to see her a grand total of twice at church. I'm not sure why. But in the process of all this Kacy's biological father has stepped up to the plate.

SO. She is going to east Tennessee to live with him, his wife, and her brothers, and sisters. This will be wonderfull for her. It will heal her, and quwell her feelings of abandonment. She will have the chance to get to know her father, and siblings. She will have a real home, and family. I rejoice for her in this. I endorse, and support it with all my heart. This is a good thing.

She came here today while I was at work, with him, and gathered a bunch of her clothes. She left me a casual note. I am the past. He is the future.

My sweet Kacy girl...I love you with all my heart, and soul. I did the best I could. I want you to be happy. This hurts me more than I can possibly tell you. But go in peace, with my blessings. I would fight this with all of my being if you wanted me to. But you don't. So go my little one. Be with your family. Be happy.

LET IT BE....

THE THUNDERBALL AFFAIR

FROM-UNCLE 1-1 (WAVERLY)
TO-UNCLE 11-2 (KURYAKIN)
SUBJECT: THRUSH-SPECTERE JOINT PROJECT

MR. KURYAKIN,

IT HAS COME TO OUR INTELLIGENCE SECTION'S ATTENSION MEETINGS BETWEEN KNOWN THRUSH OPERATIVES, AND SUSPECTED MEMBERS OF TERRORIST ORGANIZATION-SPECTERE.

COUNTERMEASURES INDICATED.

PURSUIANT TO THIS END BRITISH SECERET SERVICE OO AGENT JAMES BOND ARRIVING YOUR LOCATION THIS DAY.

FULL BRIEFING THIS OFFICE 0900AM THIS DAY.


WAVERLY SENDS
***********************************************************
In the summer of 1965 my best friend,Larry Poteet, and I, were secret agents. He was British Secret Service agent James Bond, and I was Illya Kuryakin (see-I WAS ILLYA KURYAKIN-ARCHIVE-05/04-05/11). We spent the entire summer in the woods,fields, and barns, of rural Tennessee, battling the forces of evil.
We each had our own arsenel of spy technology. I had theAgent Zero-M radio rifle, camera pistol, and 45 Thompson machinegun/with scope. I had UNCLEcomunicators made from ink pens, a shoulder holster made from an elastic cloth belt, and dozens of toy pistols, and rifles. Larry had the Multi-pistol 09, Mattel shootin shell m14, and 45, the official 007 James Bond rifle/pistol in attache' case, and dozens of toy pistols, and rifles of his own. We both had wrap around "sting-ray" sunglasses, ofcourse.

007 came up with the plan. He had TV then. We were still in the Lizzy Ann Grant house , and our only contact with the outside world was a plastic, five tube, AM radio.(see- Tales Of History And Explaination- archive- 05/18-05/25) So he was the one that saw the Thunderball promo on tv, and came up with the idea to go to the big city of Cookeville, and see it. There was, and still is, no theatre in Monterey. It was sheer genius! We take the morning Trailways bus to Cookeville , see the movie, and take the evening bus back to Monterey. We began saving money, and counting the days.

I spent that night at the British embassy (aka-Larry's house). Breakfast in a Tennessee home in those days was a wonderfull thing! Larry's Grandmother was up long before us, and when we made our way blinking, and yawning into her kitchen, she had a feast on the table. Eggs, bacon, sausage,fried potatos, and ofcourse, biscuits & sawmill gravy. (How did Merle Haggard put it? "Back before micro-wave ovens, when a girl could still cook, and still would...")
This was a pretty big adventure for two barely 13 yr old boys, in 1965. Traveling twenty miles to another town..no parents! We had a ball. we were at the Saundland Cafe in Monterey at the crack of dawn, two round trip tickets to Cookeville in hand. Both of us with toy pistols in shoulder rigs under our sport coats, and other spy gear in our pockets, boarded the bus. ( Can you imagine this in our post 9-11 world?) We were off.

On our own in the streets of Cookeville with hours to kill before the Princess Theatre opened, a reconaiscence mission was in order. We prowled the area around the theatre, attacked a THRUSH satrap in a funeral home , and hid out in a huge section of concrete pipe sitting in the edge of the parking lot of the Big K store. It was hot in our sport coats, which we needed to conceal our shoulder holsters, and even secret agents have to pee, so we sought the airconditioned comfort of the store. Being almost teenagers we ended up in the album section.
After lunch in the Jackfrost Cafe (then on the corner of Broad, and Cedar) it was finally showtime!! The movie was ambrosia for two spy crazy 13 yr old boys. Submarines, the Aston Martin, jetpacks, and that break-away hydrofoil in the Disco Volante!! Way cool! We would spend months recreating our own encounters with SPECTERE, and Emilio Largo. And there were the Bond girls, mostly scantily clad through out the movie, that were of no small interest to us also. We would eventually lose intrest in our toy guns. But not today.

And I Was Glad When They Said Unto Me, Come Let Us Go Unto The House Of The Lord...

SGT. PEPPER-THE LOST SONGS

There were three songs recorded during the Sgt. Pepper sessions that never appeared on the album. Ive included them here.
They are- ONLY A NORTHERN SONG-A George Harrison song, and two LENNON-McCARTNEY songs..STRAWBERRY FIELDS FOREVER..and..PENNY LANE..

The Beatles were in the middle of a dispute over ownership of their material with Northern Songs LTD. George penned this saurcastic little diddy in response to that. It later "surfaced" in the movie Yello Submarine.
Penny Lane, and Strawberry Fields were released as a single, which according to the rules of the day, made them unavailable as album tracks. A decision Sir George Martin called one of the biggest mistakes of his career.



STRAWBERRY FIELDS- A Lennon song,obviously. (A general rule of thumb with the Beatles was that the writer generally sang the lead vocals.) This is a real place with special memories for John. I have always loved John's dreamy psyce-delic vocals of this period. This has always been one of my favorite Beatle songs. And what you hear at the end is John saying "Strawberry Fields" recorded backwards..Not- I buried Paul...




PENNY LANE-Just as obviously a Paul McCartney song. Full of his imagery, and wonderfully drawn characters. The music is beautifull. I could listen to this song 1000 times, and not tire of it.
Penny Lane is also a real place. I wonder why the fireman rushed in in the pouring rain? Very strange....



So! I'm all through with the longer than anticipated SGT PEPPER project. I hope you enjoyed it.

BEATLES FOREVER!!!!!

SGT PEPPER (PART FIVE)

Well we're in the home strech with this project now. Here are the last two songs that are on the album. Cue the chicken(again)1..2..3..4..
SGT. PEPPER'S LONELY HEARTS CLUB BAND (reprise)-Written by Paul, and sung by John, Paul, and George. Recorded in studio 1, with work starting on April 1, 1967. Man this tune is a rocker! Anybody that thought the Beatles couldn't rock, hasn't heard this. There is some very hot guitar work going on in this short, but sweet offering. Give it hell George. Ringo kicks some butt on the drums too. The first rock song I ever heard with an orchastra. And like the lyrics say.."It's getting very near the end..."

A DAY IN THE LIFE-Written, and sung by Lennon, and McCartney. With recording begining in studio 2 on January 19, 1967. I'm crazy about this song for a number of reasons. The song itself for one, it's hauntingly beautiful. John's trippy vocals sound so mysterious, specially the aahhhs. Then there is paul's part in the center..."Woke up, fell outta bed, dragged a comb across my head..." Ringo does some very tasty drums, And that wonderfully psyce-delic symphony! I'm sure George is in the mix somewhere too. He is a great guitarist, and very under-rated in my book.
Another reason it's such a favorite has to do with memories of my teen years in Monterey tenn. This is one of the songs my sister Anna, and I would hear late at night on WLS. It seemed so spooky, and mysterious laying in the dark. I would often "camp out" in the floor of Anna's room. We would listen to the radio, and talk the night away.
This was also one of the songs my buddy,Bobby Baker, and I used to sing. He'd play it on acoustic guitar, and I'd sing lead vocals. I remember many a night, sitting by a campfire, harmonizing those spooky "aahhhhs" at the end of each verse...
"I'D LOVE TO TURN ...YOU... ON...AAAHHHHHHHH

SGT. PEPPER (PART FOUR)

If you haven't seen the Monty Python Beatles parody "The Ruttles", do yourself a favor & look them up on u-tube, or somewhere. Some of the Beatles are actually in it, along with the original Saturday Night Live cast. It is hilarious, and the music parodies are actually quite good. Very Beatlesque.

Now on to Pepper part four...

LOVELY RITA-Written, and sung by Paul. Work began on February 23, 1967 in Abbey Road studio 2. Another wonderfull example of Paul's story songs. Full of his innocent whimsy, and rich with detail. You can almost see the story unfold befor your eyes. This is another example of Paul's incredible ability as a bassist. The bass guitar on "Rita" is so good!
Lennon's backing vocals are great on this song too. I love the vocal/instrumental break in the middle, and oh man, that piano!

GOOD MORNING GOOD MORNING-Written, and sung by John. Recording began in studio 2 on Feb. 8,1967. John's lyrics, and phrasing are sharp, and the tempo changes are great. This song has all kinds of things going on, begining, and ending with a chicken. Ringo is great on drums, George does some killer guitar riffs, let's not forget the morphing animals at the end. (cats meows morph into dog barks..etc, oh and there's the fox hunt too, complete with horns, and dogs. Cue the chicken. 1..2..3..4..

Hands Outstretched.....

Sgt. Pepper (part 3)

This Album had many "firsts" It was the first album to have the lyrics printed on the cover.It was also one of the first to open like a book. (In the industry called a gate-fold cover.) It was the first album to have other than a plain inner bag for the lp, it had this card of cut-outs in the sleeve with the album. I still have it.(In the album cover ofcourse .) I remember discovering the Sgt Pepper cut-outs in the window of a building here in Cookeville during a "spy mission" with my friend Larry Poteet. We had taken the bus here from Monterey to see the latest Bond movie, at the time, Thunderrball.

BEING FOR THE BENIFIT OF MR. KITE- Written, and sung by John. Recording in studio 2 at Abby road started on Febuary 17, 1967, and the lp version was mixed from the 9th take. The song was taken almost word for word from a circus handbill John had found. When explaining the sound he was after to producer sir George Martin, John said "I want to be able to smell the sawdust." A reference to oldtime Circuses. The atmosphere Martin created in this song is nothing short of incredible, with swirling calliope, a full omp-pah-pah style orchastra, and errie echo effects. I love to play this song by Jack-o-lantern light, on halloween.

WITHIN YOU WITHOUT YOU-Written, and sung by George. recording begining in studio 2 on March 22, 1967. Another of his forrays into Indian style music. He plays acoustic guitar, and sitar on the song, backed by a group of London based, Indian musicians. This is a beautiful song. Rich with complex rythums, and layers of soaring, weaving sounds, topped with George's hypnotic vocal treatment. The lyrics are as true today as the day he wrote them...WHEN YOU SEE BEYOND YOURSELF-THEN YOU MAY FIND,PEACE OF MIND,AND THE TIME WILL COME WHEN YOU SEE WE'RE ALL ONE, AND LIFE FLOWS ON WITHIN YOU AND WITHOUT YOU.

WHEN I'M SIXTY-FOUR-Written, and sung by Paul, recording began in studio 2, at Abbey road on December 6, 1966. Another whimsical show tune. Nice work on drums by Ringo with all the stops, and starts. And,ahh! The clarinets,and that bell! The song is clasic Paul McCartney. Slice of life story telling, like Ellenor Rigby, and Penny Lane, full of detailed scenes, and Characters...EVERY SUMMER WE CAN RENT A COTTAGE IN THE ISLE OF WRIGHT, IF IT'S NOT TOO DEAR. WE SHALL SCRIMP, AND SAVE.
GRAND CHILDREN ON YOUR KNEE..VERA, CHUCK, AND DAVE...
Will you still need me?..Will you still feed me? When I'm sixtey-four? I know Linda would have, God rest her soul...

I Was Mark Twain

>
It was a cold winter day in the little Wisconsin town I still dream about. Praraie du Chien. I was all of eleven years old. I was a shy timid little thing. A bookworm, bully bait, and I lived mostly in my head. I had a small core of friends, mostly neighborhood boys. I was across the street from Grandma Colbys,where I spent the happiest days of my life, at one of these friends. WE were upstairs playing. There was a window at the top of the landing facing the rear of the house. Everything was white. The snow was already seven or eight inches deep, and coming down so thick it was almost like a fog. In the distance I could see the dull grey flatness of the Mississippi River.
My friend's sister had a Barbie car dashboard toy. It was pink. But it had buttons, and gauges, and a steering wheel... The lightbulb went on in my little head. I carried the car console to the window set it on the inside sill, and presto! I was piloting a ship through the storm. I have always had a facisnation with large ships. Aircraft carriers, freighters, submarines , ocean liners, riverboats, starships. I've always loved the concept of steering a large ponderous ship.( The first time i steered a houseboat on Dale Hollow lake I was in heaven, but thats another blog.) My friend was into the ship game for awhile, but lost interest. So I played alone. I usually did anyway, and do to this day. I have always mannaged to find myself alone in a croud. I don't even care anymore. I steered the ship. Watched the snow. Gave imaginary commands to my imaginary crew. I was having so much fun I didn't even really notice when they went down to supper until his mother called up the stairs to tell me that it was dark, and time I went home.

That was ok. I had my own ship at home.I had built control consoles out of old tvs, radios, and cardboard boxes, with instrement pannels drawn on them. The entire upstairs of my Grandmas was my domain. My submarine When I played "Voyage To The Bottom Of The Sea". My UNCLE HQ. Fort Apache. My starship. The place where I kept my sears catalogs(shh.) As soon as I finnished my supper, and got my hugs, and kisses, and Grandma stuff, from my biggest fan on earth, I headed up the stairs. THE CAPTAIN IS ON THE BRIDGE!

To this day when ever its snowing, or storming, I can stand at a window, look out at the weather, and the 11 yr old captain stands in my shoes.

Joe said that.

Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts club band (part2)

This is the picture inside the Album cover, when you fold it out. Can you see the word "love" spelled in it? The L is in the blue tassale on Ringo's jacket. The O on John's shoulder. The V is Paul's knees. And the E is on George's jacket. The Beatles worked out several differen't versions of this, and they're all included in the liner notes of the cd. As is most of the Historical information I've included in these posts.
Lennon McCartney. Almost all beatle songs are signed that way. no matter which one actually penned the tune. They got the idea from the famous song writing duo of Rodgers & Hammerstien. Not content to just write rock, and roll songs, they aspired to write show tunes, and have their material sung by the greats like Sinatra. Their own fame got in the way of this ambition, Though Frank did cover some Beatles songs. He said "somthing" was the greatest love song he'd ever heard. Hmmn. A Harrison song. Sorry boys. But you can hear the show tune influince on this song..

GETTING BETTER-Written, and sung by Paul. Recording began March 9th 1967 in studio two at Abby Road. I can just hear this song being sung by Danny Kaye, or Fred Astair. A highly chorigraphed group of background singers dancing behind them. I love the rythum of this song.The backing vocals are rich, and layered, And again the bass playing is hair raisingly good. I can't help but sing along with this one.

FIXING A HOLE-Written, and sung by Paul, recording began at Regent Sound Studio, Tottemham Court Road,London, on Febuary 21, 1967, later completed at Abby Road. Most of this album was written like a musical to me. At the risk of being redundant, I can just see this tune coriographed.
Paul said he was smoking a lot of weed when he wrote it, and it does have that "stoned " mentality. "Fixing a hole where the rain gets in, and stops my mind from wandering..." Great guitar, and backing vocals on this song. Paul's bass is sublime on this one too.

SHE'S LEAVING HOME-Written by Paul, and John. Vocals by Paul. Recording started in studio2 on march17,1967. This song is so terribly English! "meeting a man from the moter trade..." The phrasing of the lyrics, The vocals, and specially the symphony backing. I love this song. One of Paul's best "story" songs.
I just love the way the song reads. If it were a story I would read it over, and over... "Standing alone at the top of the stairs she breaks down, and crys to her husband. "Daddy our baby's gone!"
As a Daddy myself, having just Lost my daughter this song has taken on much more relevence for me.."How could she treat me so thoughtlessly? How could she do this to me?"
We'll start Chapter 3 with Being For The Benifit Of mr Kite....

The U.S.S. Maytag

This Is Hamann's Variety Store. It is a large storehouse of happy memories for me. Oh! The toys I got that came from this magical place! Army men by the 100's, toy guns, balsa wood gliders, boardgames, and so much more. School supplies, candy,comic books, you name it, they either had it , or would order it. And every year before Christmas the entire basement was transformed into a child's wonderland of toys. Many of my Christmas dreams came from this place. And the wonderfull thing is, It's still there!! If your ever in my childhood utopia-Praraie du Chien, Wisconsin, look it up. It's on Blackhawk Avenue.
And across the alley from Hamann's Was Pugh's hardware store. They sold Maytag appliances like washing machines, and refrigerators. I used to drag the huge empty boxes home, and play in them until they came apart. They became all manner of things. Forts, submarines, tanks, and ofcource, spaceships. Like most little boys of the early nineteen sixties I was facisnated with anything to do with space. I still am.
I would set the box on it's side, crawl inside ,and Armed with my green, and yellow box of Crayola crayons I drew intricate control pannels on the sides of the box near the back. Then it was time for"lift-off". I would sit with my little back against the back wall of the box, and begin the countdown. "Ten..nine..eight..seven..six..main engine start..five..four..three..ignition sequence start..two..one..I would lean foward, and then lean back with all my weight..Lift-off!!! The box would flip up onto it's bottom leaving me sitting on my back looking up at the wild blue yonder. I was in space!