MY MAYBURY PT1

I was born in Chicago Illinois. The city of big shoulders Carl Sandburg called it. It was 1959. The world was still black, and white,my parents & gramma the most important people on earth, and I was the center of the universe. About to boldly go where no man had gone before....kindergarden.
My first memory of Prairie Du Chien, Wisconsin is of this huge two story rock house in the middle of the night. After all the brick,asphalt, and concrete of 1950s Chicago it seemed like a castle in the woods. I'd never seen a yard big enough for more than two trees. The only woods I'd seen was in Lincoln Park. Here was this edifice of stone, and wood looming in the moonlight amongst what seemed to my fire year old eyes a forrest of gigantic old trees. We had arrived from chicago in a car pulling a U-Haul trailer, there was a moving van with the rest of our worldy possessions sitting in the dark in front of the house under a million stars. Shazzam!
As is the case for us all, as my map of said universe became larger, my family seemed somehow smaller, and my place farther from the center. School was the first of these epiphanies. There were all kinds of kids in my class, and this "teacher" didn't seem to notice ME anymore than any of them. I didn't like this at all at first, but as I began to interact with my peers, and develope friendships I decided I could live with it until she adjusted.
It wasn't all bad. Lots of kids, and cool toys to play with, free snacks, and milk. Besides when I got home there was an ever expanding world to explore. In the city if I got to go outside at all it was in a fenced in area, and supervised. Now as we got to know the neighborhood I began to be allowed to leave the yard by myself..WOW! It was during these early explorations I started going to Bill's Texaco. My sister, and I were given niclels to go there,and get treats. A bottle of pop, or a candy bar, or even ice cream could be had for a nickel. My aunt Jessey had known him for some time livng nextdoor to the station, and soon Texaco presents started showing up at our house.Calenders,Hats, t shirts, and toys. One of these became one of those childhood treasures you never forget. My Texaco tanker! It was nearly three feet long, and battery powered. You could set the rudder, turn that sucker on and sail it straight across a pond, or make it do lazy circles of any size you wanted. Always being fascinated with big ships I spent hors playing with it. I still think of it from time to time to this day, and my thoughts go spinning back to sweeter times, when PRAIRIE DU CHIEN was my Maybury, and people like Bill fed me icecream, let me watch him run his station, and enriched my young life.
Thank you Bill

my old home town...sigh

HONEST JOHN2(eat a peach)

When I came in the back door I saw that Aunt Jessey was there, and she was mad. But I could also tell she wasn't mad at me. Her tousling my crewcut hair was a dead give away. Her, and Gramma were sitting at the kitchen table. She stood me in front of her, and with her hands on my shoulders, looked me right in the eye.
'Honey what were you doing down at the parts store yesterday?" I was scared. Was I in trouble with the army? Was I not supposed to be around the missle truck? I could see Aunt Jessey was wanted to hear something. She wanted to know I was a good boy. I had to tell the truth.
I stammered that I only wanted to see it up close. That I had told Gramma where I went. I was close to tears.
"And that's all you did?" She asked me. "Be honest honey." In a rush of words I told her about the army trucks going by, and seeing the missle rtruck turn into the parts store. Running down to see it. (I told her I crossed at the light, and looked both ways.) As I finnished I noticed Aunt Jessey relaxing, her eyes smiling.
"And you didn't go anyplace else?" "Were you in mrs. Anderson's yard?"
"Who is MRS. Anderson?" I asked as only the innocent can.
Gramma, and Aunt Jessey exchanged smiles
"I knew he wouldn't." Gramma said confidently. "It isn't in him."
"AWW she's always callin' the law on somebody" Aunt Jessey replied getting to her feet. "Come with me sweety." "We'll straighten this out."
I didn't know what "this" was, but I knew my Aunt Jessey, something was fixing to be straightened out. She took my little hand in hers, and off we went down Marquette road, me taking three steps to every one of her's.
I looked over at the Napa store parking lot as we turned up the walk to the house nextdoor, no missles in the gravel lot now just cars, and dusty old pick ups.

MRS Anderson came to the door. It turned out some neighborhood boys (friends of mine she'd seen me with) had been stealing peaches from her tree in the back yard. Apparently they'ed broken down some of the lower branches in the process. When she saw me in the parking lot around the army truck she had called the police, and reported me as one of the vandals. I was going to have to go to court. I was terrified! I'd heard about juvenile delinquents getting"sent off" in court.
Aunt Jessey went on the offensive. Did she see me looking at the army truck? Yes. Did she see me in her yard..ever? Well no, but she'd seen me with those "Jones boys" before, and they were the very ones tearing up her trees. Did she see me with any peaches, or anywhere near her tree? Well no but_"Jerry tell MRS. Anderson why you were up here yesterday." With big tearfull brown eyes I told her about the army trucks,and the missle,and running down the road to see it, and that I hadn't been in her yard honest.
Both women were smiling down at me when I finnished. They talked for a bit, and we went back to Gramma's. Another phone call was made by MRS. Anderson. I never had to go to court.
To this day it still fills my heart with joy that my favorite aunt had known me so well, and instantly believed me. Never a doubt. I love you Aunt Jessey. I miss you.

HONEST JOHN

It was a bright sunshiney day in Praraie du Chien Wisconsin, my Maybury. Population 5,280, Three fire trucks, two police cars, and yes one of the cops was even nicknamed "Barney". As close to paradise as I have ever been in this life. I still dream about it.



It was 1962 and I was a ten year old boy in short pants, white Texaco t shirt, and blue flip flops. I was industriously wasting the hot summer day in my gramma Colby's front yard at 219 south Marquette Road when the US ARMY made an appearance, and made my day. I stood tranfixed as the row of green trucks, and jeeps growled slowly by. They all had their headlights on, and they were full of REAL SOLDIERS! As most boys of that time were, I was crazy about all things military. This was like god appearing to me. My heros driving right by my house!! And then I saw the missle truck.

It was an Honest John medium range tactical missle. Deleloped for deployment in Europe to offset the armour imbalence between NATO, and the WARSAW pact, and keep the Russians on their own side of the fence. And it was the coolest thing I had ever seen. I watched the line of green until they were a block away, and then miracle of miracles, the missle truck's turn signal came on, and it's brakelights flared. It was turning into the auto parts store! IT WAS STOPPING!!

My flip flops snapping my heels, I took off at full gallop down the street. I was gonna get to see a real army missle, up close. Wowy! COOL COOL COOL!!! In those days you didn't have to lock your kids in the house to keep them safe. I roamed my neighborhood at will, as long as I was home before dark. So I was safe in my innocence, and breaking no rules. I quickly covered the block, and a half to the parts store.(I crossed busy Marquette Road at the light, and looked both ways, before crossing.)

And there it was. I was in little boy heaven. I walked around it. I stared rapturously. I walked around again. Finally working up the courage, I walked up, reached my little ten year old fingers up, and put my hands on the olive drab metal of the truck. It was hot from the summer sun. I don't know how long I stood, and stared at the rocket, but when I heard the five oclock bells from the church start playing, I headed for home. That was the rule. When I heard those bells it was time to get home..or else. But I was a good boy. I had broken no rules. I went home to my wonderfull gramma, watched cartoons, had supper, babbled about the rocket all through that, and went to bed too excited to sleep (I thought as I drifted off.)

The next day Barney, in the one police car was at my house....

THE HALL MONITORS PARTY

Is there no end to the republican sour grapes? What's next? The president didn't eat his vegatables!! He didn't clean his plate!! For the love of God will you all please SHUT UP!!! For one day. JUST SHUT THE BLEEP UP!! No wonder everybody is so sick of the republican party. They've become the grouchy old neighbor party.."You kids get off my lawn!" "If you don't turn that down I'm calling the cops." This article was the last straw for me....
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WASHINGTON, May 30 (UPI) -- GOP officials chided U.S. President Barack Obama for attending a Broadway play Saturday but the White House said Obama was keeping a campaign promise.

The president and first lady Michelle Obama flew to New York from Washington on what a White House press pool report called a Gulfstream-type plane, rather than one of the larger craft that serve as Air Force One, Politico reported. Plans called for the couple to dine at the Blue Hill restaurant before attending a performance of the late playwright August Wilson's "Joe Turner's Come and Gone."

The production is nominated for six Tony Awards, including best revival of a play.

In a posting on its Web site, the Republican National Committee contrasted the Obamas evening out with General Motors Corp.'s fight for survival and the broader economic turndown.

"As President Obama prepares to wing into Manhattan's theater district on Air Force One to take in a Broadway show, GM is preparing to file bankruptcy and families across America continue to struggle to pay their bills," the GOP said. "Have a great Saturday evening -- even if you're not jetting off somewhere at taxpayer expense."

RNC spokeswoman Gail Gitcho said if Obama wanted to go to the theater, "isn't the Presidential box at the Kennedy Center good enough?," Politico reported.

During the flight to New York a spokesman for the president read a statement saying the trip was intended to keep a campaign promise Obama made to his wife.

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Jeeze Louise will you people just stop for a minute, and listen to yourselves? I swear it's been one thing after another, a continuous hysterical whine since the Clinton presidency. The Democrats don't wipe their feet. They fart in elevators. They drink out of the milk carton.My God! That one didn't wash behind his ears!! No wonder you can't get anybody to vote for you. Who can stand to be around your whiney vindictive, sour butts?? For God's sake..LIGHTEN UP!! You lost. Get over it. deal with it. MOVE ON.

LIVING IN THE GREY

Unless you have it, forget everything you think you know about depression. It's not what you think (it's worse), and it has little to do with current events. read this page, then we'll talk.


http://www.depression.com/

It is a beautifull sunny day. I recently returned from a wonderfull visit with my best friend, in Denver. My best friend here in Cookeville is losing his struggle with diabeties. I have a million things I could be blogging about. But I haven't written a word in months. I have a passion for books (a library numbering in the thousands now), and yet I haven't been to my favorite bookstore-NEW CENTURY BOOKS AND GOODS-in months . This is the face of depression.
It is caused by changes in brain chemistry. It has nothing to do with how I feel. What my attitude is. Very little with what happened that day. An event can trigger depression, ofcourse. But that is event based depression. What we are talking about is chronic depression, and it is a completely different beast. We ain't talking about singing the blues.

There are days when it takes everything I can muster to even get out of bed. There are days that I don't. There are days when I don't leave this room, except to pee. I avoid conversation. I don't eat. Personal grooming becomes an insurmountable task. I have the attension span of a gerbal. Nothing matters, and what if it did? I SLEEP. Sometimes for as much as 14 hours at a time. This is chronic depression.

Imagine how you would feel if the person you cherrish the most died. Now. Multiply that pain by 100, and have it last for days. Weeks. Months. Now you begin to understand what chronic depression suffers deal with..live with. It manifests itself in different ways. In me it either manifests itself in anger, or a total lack of interest in..anything. NOT my family. Not my friends. Not my blogs, my books, nothing. I am living in the grey. And my only lifeline is my meds. (40MG fluoxetine)

I take it every morning. And it allows me to funtion. To feel. To not be wrapped in cotton.Remote. SO!!! I am going to try to get back up to speed here in cyberspace. And I hope some JOE fans will be glad to hear from me.

TRAIN TIMES

I will always treasure saturdays. The most magic day of all. From the time I was a small boy in Wisconsin who spent them with black & white flickering images of Roy Rogers, Sky King, Bugs Bunny, and Quickdraw McGraw. From the days of roaming the deep woods,streams, and hollows of 1960s Monterey. From the days of escape from work spent in Johnson's cave, in bars, and endless saturday nights behind my drumset. But the saturdays that my heart returns to the most are the ones spent with my Kacy Girl.

As in all treasured routines, ritual must be observed. Ours had many steps, and variations, and we savored them all. Sometimes we would fix breakfast here first. Sometimes we would detour by the mini-burger for "the works." Eggs,saugage,toast,biscuits, and gravy...ooh. But always, saturday started here in my room watching "Tracks Ahead", having coffee, and ended up at some point at two places "New Century Books, and Goods" My special place. And Burgerking..our place. But this isn't about destinations. It's about the journey.

Most of the time we would walk by the hospital,through my old neighborhood, and like Bilbo's journy from Hobbiton to the long lake, there were milestones, and steps that came to be treasures in our hearts, and necessary joys. Sidewalks that had to be walked. Buildings that always brought the same conversations. Turns that had to be made. Dogs visited.Games played. There was the clinic with the brick trim that reminded us of the twin towers. The vacant lot where the wild flowers flourished. The tree in the yard where I lived when my Mom died. The beagle we befriended. The house I always had to say how much I wished was ours. And blink..blink..blink..
(There were two red lights hanging over a 4way stop that blinked alternatively. I pointed at one, and said "blink!" as we passed under. "Blink!" my then eight year old Kacy replied, pointing at the other in delight. After that day, this game was always part of saturday.

Other favorites come to mind. Some fleeting, others chiseled in stone. The pawn shop that added to our video collection. This That, And More, a huge second hand store full of junk, and treasure. The hobby-shop, full of models, and trains.The Soup Kitchen (10 fresh homemade soups made daily!!). Ralph's do-nut shop. There was the antique store where I found"Roundabout Train". A children's book my mother used to read to me when I was a pre-schooler. We both cried, and Kacy said-"your getting it ,don't look at the price. Your always getting stuff for me..get something for yourself!" With glassy eyes she took the book in one hand, and led me with the other to the counter, where the story of the book made the owner cry too.

And the one that we will both remember the most. The Depot. How many hours? How many memories? Vivid. Sharp. Bittersweet. The model trains inside. The train trip we took to Lebanon, and back. The bluegrass concert. People we met. And our old friend, the red caboose. If I live to be a thousand I will still rember siting in the cupola with you,Kacy girl. Joyfilled afternoons. The smell of fresh paint, and old wood. The black steam engine out the front windows. And wasps

FEB14...DEAD ENDS,MISSED BOATS...FAILURES

TO WHOEVER YOU ARE.. OR WERE...

OH GOD! THAT SONG....

There are songs that cross cultures,define times, mark special times in our lives, and yet defy time. they are as fresh in our hearts, and minds today as the first day we heard them. They bring that same excitement, and joy every time we hear them.
Here are a few of mine.









i'll close,in tears, with this one...

GO AHEAD AND LAUGH, BUT THIS ISN'T FUNNY...

Big Box Mart | Funny Jokes at JibJab

The list of domestic manufacturers put out of business directly by Walmart's demand for "low prices" is getting longer each day. ATTENSION WALMART SHOPPERS