December 29, 2009

Now: While driving around the Ozarks on my travels I have seen several Christmas trees decorated by "Guerrilla Santa's". These are the trees you see on the side of a highway or a busy intersection that have been adopted by some unseen soul or souls. I like to think of them as "Guerrilla Santa's" because no one sees these individuals who are so overflowing with Christmas spirit they must decorate more than just their own home. While it seems no one sees who does these drive by decoratings, someone must because frequently these trees or bushes are in busy locales. There is a small bush at the corner of Kansas Expressway and Republic Road in Springfield that is actually growing out of a crack in the asphalt in the center of the intersection. This tiny tree was decorated over a period of days with new bulbs and ribbons appearing each day. Soon the poor thing was so over laden with decorations it could hardly stand up under the weight.


Some trees on the highways have been decorated very beautifully and are quite large. I saw one such tree that was growing precariously near the edge of a bluff loaded with tinsle, bulbs and stars. I wondered in amazement how it was accomplished. It seemed it would require a bucket truck to reach it safely but I find that highly unlikely. Was it done at night by a "Guerrilla Santa", replete with camo paint on his face to avoid detection?


I also wonder how long it will be before some misdirected "Scrooge" will file a lawsuit against the state because they are "offended" by the display that is on public property and require the state to move officers from the Missouri State Drug Task Force during the month of December. For the month of December they would become the Missouri State Christmas Task Force responsible for staking out potential trees to catch these "Guerrilla Santa's" in the act of their drive by decorating. That intrigues me. Perhaps I shall stake out a tree for myself and stock up on some face paint in preparation for next Christmas!





Then: The winter after we moved to the Hunky Place we had our first snowstorm in the country. As I recall, it was a beautiful deep snow with large flakes. The kind you can stand in and actually hear the flakes as they land. It was evening time and Dad was in the barn milking the cows. Mother and I were in the house where it was warm and dry. I don't remember what it was now but I asked to do something and my Mother, from the next room, said "no". I, being a young cocky lad of six, retorted something along the line of "Someday I won't live here anymore and you will be sorry!" While I don't remember my exact words I do remember the feeling of dread that swept over my body from my towhead to my toes as I realized I had really stuck my foot in it this time. Mother promptly went to my room and packed my little brown cardboard suitcase with my PJ's and underware, clean shirt, toothbrush, ect. She proceeded to bundle me up in my snow boots and coat and hat and opened the kitchen door. She said "I will miss you son." and pushed me outside and closed the door. Panic struck! "What have I done?" I wondered?

I looked at the barn and realized I was saved. Dad can't know what happened. I will go to the barn and he will make her take me back. I headed to the barn and immediately ratted Mother out to him. Dad looked at me and said "Son, if Mother kicked you out she must have had a good reason. Sorry boy. Start hiking!" He pushed me out the door. I began walking to the road in snow up to my thighs. Of course, at the age of six, that would be only about 12 inches deep but at the same time, at the age of six, that is a LOT of snow! I trudged slowly toward the road and kept looking back. I could see by the light of the single bare bulb on the pole outside the barn, Dad in the barn door and Mother in the kitchen door - both warm and dry and watching my every step. It seemed like I walked a mile before, finally, Mother called me back. Just for the record, that was the one and only time I tried to run away!

December 23, 2009

NOW: Today I journeyed back thru "Lap Land" to return home. At one point a huge bird swooped down across the highway in front of me and landed in a large tree overhanging the road. It was a American Bald Eagle in all of its magnificence. They are so amazing to watch. I need an eagle for a pet! Anyone who knows me knows I am a patriot to the bone! I am a very proud veteran. I was drafted to serve in Vietnam in 1972. Before I was actually called up the draft was ended as the war was winding down. I waited a few months and joined the U.S. Navy in December. Rumor has it I single handedly defeated Communism by skillfully operating my radar. That was slightly overstated but... I could tell you the truth but then I would have to kill you. :-) I just want you to remember those who are serving and can not be home with their family and loved ones for Christmas. Pray for them!!

THEN: We moved from the house on Lincoln Street in Monett to a farm west of Purdy, MO. It was known as "The Hunky Place". I must assume the owner was a "hunk" because the house was nothing special. HA I learned to ride my first bicycle there. I soon could ride well but I could not reach the ground to start or stop. Dad put a bale of hay in the yard and I would stand on the bale to start and then learned to stop at the bale. I became quite the hot dog on my tiny bike and my faithful dog went everywhere with me. One day while riding as fast as I could my best friend turned left in front of me without signaling. I hit the dog and went over the handlebars. I proceeded to body surf down the asphalt road and boy did that HURT!!! My chest hurts now just thinking about it. OUCH!

December 22, 2009

Now: Today I traveled to the southeast corner of Missouri for an appointment. It was a five hour drive thru "Lap Land". For those not familiar with this part of Missouri don't bother looking on the map. Even the latest edition of Rand McNally does not show "Lap Land". It is the area along the southern border of Missouri where Arkansas "laps" over into Missouri. It is difficult in this area of the state to differentiate between the Missouri and the Arkansas Hillbillys. :-) A prime example of this is the name of the first business I saw in the historic district of Cape Girardeau. The name is, and I kid you not, "Rufus' Mud Sucker Liquid Lounge"! I can just imagine what the speciality drink is in that fine establishment!! LOL

Then: The year I started kindergarten we still lived in the house on Lincoln Street in Monett. I met "R" in school. As it turned out, his aunt was our neighbor. We soon became good friends. One beautiful, warm sunny day "R" and I were playing outside. Eventually, we grew tired and sat on the curb in front of our house. My new friend and I began playing with the valve stems of my Dad's car, he at the front tire and me at the rear. The noise of the air leaking out was almost intoxicating. At the tender age of five we did not understand the concept of airing "up" a tire until my Dad came home from work. "R" was not there for that part of the "education" of course but I NEVER let the air out of a tire again! :-) This was the beginning of a long friendship as "R" and I graduated from high school together 13 years later.

December 17, 2009

Now: Duct tape is good for a myriad of uses. That is a well known fact. My family can attest to this also but I wish they would forget at least one Duct tape failure. :-) I digress. Today I stopped to buy gasoline and there was very old (1985 era) red Toyota at the pump next to me. As I looked at the car I imagined how the engineers and designers at Toyota would cringe if they could only see what had happened to their efforts to put a hot looking, red sports car on the new car show floor. This car did not have a single surface without damage, rust or Bondo on it. It had broken glass and the drivers door would not open. I turned as not to stare while the young man added oil to the engine. Suddenly, I heard the familiar “rip” of Duct tape being removed from the roll. I looked back to see the youth securing his hood in the closed position with… you guessed it, Duct tape! Not just a little bit but yards and yards of it. I could only wonder, as he drove into the darkness, if this was a recommended use for this product.

Then: My first Christmas memory was December of 1957. We lived in a tiny white rental house on Lincoln Street. This was only a few blocks from Saint Vincents Hospital where I graced Monett with my presence in 1953. I was so excited to go to bed on Christmas Eve because I could see the Christmas tree from my bed. I had announced at dinner I was going to stay awake and watch Santa visit our house. There was no chimney for Santa to come down but I was sure he would get in somehow. Finally bedtime came and every few minutes my mother would say “Are you asleep yet?”. I would answer with indignation in my voice “No. I am waiting for Santa!”. Unfortunately, then as now, if I lay my head down I am asleep. I awoke in the morning and was very disappointed to find I had fallen asleep and missed the jolly fat man but that disappointment was short lived when I saw the presents under the tree.

December 16, 2009

NOW: I am working in Kansas City this week. Many of the clients I call on do not seemed concerned for their safety as the location of their businesses are frequently not in the best part of town. I was sitting at a stoplight at the corner of 68th and Troost waiting for the signal to change when I suddenly found myself looking in the face of a rather large black man. He was waving a stack of newspapers with the headline of “NO SECOND CHANCE FOR TIGER” with one hand and a pumpkin pie in the other. I assured him I needed neither and thanked God the light turned green! You certainly did not see that on the farm where I grew up. LOL

THEN: July 27th, 1953. I was born in Monett, MO in the Saint Vincent’s Hospital on Lincoln Street. I don’t know the time of day because I had not learned to tell time yet. :-) Dr. “A” did the caesarean section on my Mother. Dr. “A” was a fine physician and was my Doctor until I joined the U.S. Navy. It seems Dr. “A” frequently needed to unwind from his stressful duties of keeping our small town healthy. It is reported his preferred relaxant came in a bottle and after hours he was known to imbibe to excess. Unfortunately for me, I was born after office hours. I don’t know about his license to practice medicine but Dr. “A” would have lost his license to drive had he been stopped on the way to the hospital. During the surgery I was stabbed in the left side. Perhaps I am being over dramatic saying I was stabbed. It was more like a nick of about ¼” in length. The interesting part of the cut is the fact that the taller I grew, the longer the scar grew. I now have a scar about five inches long on my left side. It has been one of my claims to fame. I survived a knife fight earlier than any of my friends! LOL