Category: Fundamentals

On Sunday, Helen and I joined my brother and his family outside a window of the retirement home where our Mother lives. Mother loves Taco Bell, and we treated her to lunch. Although the time we shared was delightful, the experience was limited to peering through a window while talking over our cell phones. Nevertheless, I’m grateful for the time we have.  At 92, Mom remains as blessed as ever with a lively and spirited outlook on life.  Every week she gives us an update on her success at Bingo, and, after three months in her new home, she is up by $9.25 in bingo winnings. I love it. She will find a good cause and give the money away eventually.

Mother’s good nature and giving ways are traits she obtained from her Mother—our lovely and sweet Grandmother.  Her name was Annette, and her overwhelming capacity to love and share that love with her children is as great as anyone I have ever known.  I miss her and her infectious laughter tremendously.

A few posts back, I told readers that I send a letter to one of my grandchildren every week. Sometimes I make up a story for them where that week’s recipient takes on the character of a Spider Monkey and becomes involved in an adventure in the Banana Jungle.  In honor of my Mom and my Grandmother, I wanted to share a story that they would tell my brother, my sister, and me at bedtime.  My Grandmother would recite it to us as many times as we asked.  Her stories were a great gift to us, and I wanted to make sure that the gift lived on.  This week the letter goes to my youngest granddaughter–Annette’s great-great-granddaughter.

May 11, 2020

Dear Carly (not her real name),

BeBe had a delightful Mother’s Day.  Any day that she gets flowers from Big Daddy and talks to her children and grandchildren is a beautiful day for her. It was so good to see you on Sunday afternoon even though you looked exhausted after the camping trip.  If you were tired, I hope that means you had a great time.  The pictures that your Daddy sent us were beautiful, and it looked like a nice place to camp. I know that Lucy would love to visit there.

Speaking of camping trips, I heard about a camping trip to the Banana Jungle that turned out to be a lot of fun for Carly Spider Monkey and all of the Monkey Buddies. I thought you would want to hear about it, so I’m sending it along to you.

The weather in the Banana Jungle is gorgeous right now, and all of the Monkey Buddies are ready to go camping after a long, cold winter. Carly Spider Monkey said she knew just the perfect spot to camp next to a lovely pond of water. She told all of the Monkey Buddies to get their tents and camping gear loaded onto the Zebras, who would carry them to the campsite. Everyone did that, and all the Spider Monkeys hiked to the campsite early the next morning.  They got set up before noon, then played coconut ball, went swimming, went kayaking, and ate S’Mores and bananas cooked over the big campfire.

Soon it was time for everyone to crawl into their tents and go to sleep for the night, but all the Monkey Buddies were still jumping around and not ready for bedtime. Well, Carly Spider Monkey was very tired and wanted to go to sleep right then. She knew that she had to do something, or all of the Spider Monkeys would keep her awake until very late.  She called all of the Monkey Buddies over to the campfire and had them sit on the mats of Palm tree leaves she had gathered.

When all of the Monkey Buddies calmed down, Carly Spider Monkey said, “I want to tell everybody a story my great-great-grandmother shared about what can happen to little monkeys who go out after dark. This story is about a little kitty, not monkeys, but you will get the idea, so listen up.”

Carly Spider Monkey began:

Once upon a time, there was a little kitty cat who lived in a big house with his Mommy.  One afternoon, he wanted to go outside and play so, he asked his Mommy if he could.

“Yes,” she said, “but you must come in the house before dark.”

The wind was blowing when little kitty cat ran outside.  He was having the most delightful time chasing leaves and butterflies in the wind and didn’t notice that it was getting dark out. It was also beginning to rain.

Little Kitty looked around and didn’t know where he was. He had chased leaves from his house, and now, he was LOST!

“Oh, my,” Little Kitty began to cry. Off in a field, he saw the light coming from a barn so, Kitty scampered over to it and knocked on the door. Mr. Pig opened the door and said,

“Kitty cat, what are you doing out here after dark in the rain?”

Oh, Mr. Pig, I’m lost, and I’m so cold and hungry.  Can you give me something to eat?”

“Why yes,” said Mr. Pig, “I can give you some corn.”

“Mr. Pig, little kitty cats can’t eat corn!”

Mr. Pig said he was sorry and then said, “You go next door and knock on Mr. Horse’s door.  Maybe he can give you something to eat.”

“Thank you, Mr. Pig,” Little Kitty said politely.

Little Kitty walked next door and knocked at Mr. Horse’s house.

Mr. Horse opened the door.  He took one look at Little Kitty and said, “Why, little kitty, what are you doing out here after dark in the rain?”

Little Kitty said, “Oh, Mr. Horse, I’m lost, I’m wet and cold, and hungry.  Can you give me something to eat?”

Mr. Horse said, “Of course! I can give you some hay.”

“But, Mr. Horse, kitty cats can’t eat hay,” said Little Kitty Cat.

So, Mr. Horse said, “I’ll tell you what, go next door and see Mrs. Moo Cow.  I’m sure she will give you something to eat.”

Little Kitty went next door and knocked. Mrs. Moo Cow opened the door and said, “Oh, my little kitty, what are you doing out here after dark in the rain?”

“Oh, Mrs. Moo Cow, I’m lost, and I’m cold and wet and very hungry. Can you give me something to eat?”

“Why, yes,” said Mrs. Moo Cow. “I can give you some milk.”

“Oh, goody, goody, goody,” said Little Kitty. “Kitty cats just love milk!”

Mrs. Moo Cow gave him all the warm milk he could drink. Then, she told him to climb up in the barn loft and snuggle down in the hay and go to sleep. She said, “Little Kitty when your mother comes down to the barn in the morning to catch mice, I’ll tell her that you’re up there.”

Sure enough—the next morning, Little Kitty woke up and someone was licking and licking his face.  He opened his eyes, and there was his Mommy!

Little Kitty and Mommy walked back home very happily.  Little Kitty learned a perfect lesson and never again stayed outside after dark.

When Carly Spider Monkey finished the story, she looked around the campfire. Two Monkey Buddies had their eyes almost closed. Two more stood up slowly and gave Carly Spider Monkey a big thumbs up.  They walked over to their tents.

Carly Spider Monkey shook the two sleepy Monkey Buddies and pointed them to their tents. They crawled in and zipped the doors closed. Carly Spider Monkey enjoyed one more S’More and then poured some water on the fire and watched it go out.  She went to her tent and very quickly went to sleep.  Tomorrow would be another big day.

 

Have a great week, Carly.  I love you very much! Give your Mommy a big hug!

Big Daddy

Please visit Sunday Stills for other shared gifts from the Mothers and Grandmothers we honor this time of the year.

On Sunday, Terri Webster Schrandt (Second Wind Leisure) asked if the last few weeks of staying at home have awakened us to either an interest in something new or revitalized an old one. I had to think about that one because I have managed to avoid boredom by doing more of the same things I do regularly.

I exercise every day now instead of just a few days a week and have pulled out the bicycle after more than a year of letting it sit idle. I’ve had the opportunity to spend more time with my camera and learning to use some of the editing software I purchased years ago. Cooking has always been an interest of mine, but I’m doing more of it now that I have discovered some excellent one-skillet meals. I go to Sunday School on Zoom. There’s nothing new about any of the above, just more of most items on the list.

However, there is one rekindled interest that I can add to the list…listening to music. I find that before bedtime and after Helen and I have binge-watched another season of Bosch on Amazon Prime Video, I can’t bear to turn on the late newscast for another session of all-COVID, all-the-time. So, I turn to the music listings on my Dish Network service and search for Lucille, the Blues channel and use the music to accompany the remnants of a good Cabernet in the bottom of my wineglass and a square of dark chocolate in my hand. I love Blues and Blues musicians.  Something in the music speaks to the soul, and especially so in the times we’re facing.

I don’t have any current pictures to illustrate the art. Still, a few years back, Helen and I attended the Juke Joint Festival in Clarksdale, Mississippi, a Blues celebration held every year, which honors the late W.C. Handy, the “Father of the Blues” composer who lived there. I have a picture (top of page) that I love from one session we attended in a smoke-filled Juke Joint. I think of this place in my late-night listening sessions.

A few years later, I attended a Sunday afternoon Blues concert and wrote a post about it.  I have a link to the post here and have shared a few of the pictures from that post.  There is a link to the Easin’ Along YouTube page in that post that will give readers a feel for the flavor of this fun-filled afternoon.

I won’t linger on this short post, but in response to Terri’s question, this is one awakening that I hope to continue when the COVID cloud lifts. Maybe I’ll learn to play the harmonica while I’m Easin’ Along.

Surreal…Bizarre…Unprecedented

Words like those above pour out of every television newscast and almost every conversation during this most unusual time. Some of the feelings associated with those words came back to me this week. I’ve had them once, and only once, a long time ago.

About five years back, I began a project that I never completed.  When Helen and I returned home after an Army assignment in Europe, we brought with us over 1,300 slides sitting in trays and locked up to gather dust in the attic.  I discovered those slides when we downsized and realized that I needed to preserve them, or a lot of great memories would be lost.  After I purchased a slide converter from Amazon, I started the process and converted 500 of the slides to JPEG digital images and stopped there, promising to complete the task within a few days.  A few days lasted five years.

We had rainy weather on Thursday, and I decided to look for the slides and complete my unfulfilled promise.  They were in a box under some blankets destined for the Rescue Mission. I pulled out 300 of them, thinking that would be enough for the day.  I found the slide converter in a closet in the Man Cave and plugged it in—all the lights came on, and the SD card was in good condition. Game on! The first slides I converted in this batch were from a trip to Tangiers, in Morocco in 1974.

Before I get into a description of the remaining slides, I should provide a frame of reference for the period covered by the images I want to show to Easin’ Along readers. Please forgive the grainy photos.  Some were taken with a Kodak Instamatic.

In 1972 Helen and I moved to Germany after graduation from the University of Tennessee. I received a commission as a 2^nd Lieutenant through Army ROTC. We both were very excited about the adventure that lay ahead. After all, the world was at relative peace, the pay and benefits were good, and I needed a job to support my new bride of four months.

After two years and a delightful variety of assignments within the 3^rd Infantry Division in Wurzburg, Germany (Northern Bavaria), the Division Commander, MGen Sam S. Walker, selected me to serve as his Junior Aide-de-Camp.  General Walker, a no-nonsense kind of a guy, proved to be a challenge to work for, but I considered the selection as an honor and jumped right in at the ripe young age of 23.

Within a few weeks, General Walker received an assignment to serve as the US Commander of Berlin.  He wanted Helen and me to go with him. Although we loved Wurzburg and the friends we made there, the opportunity to serve in a quasi-diplomatic post near the heartbeat of the Cold War appealed to me greatly, and we climbed aboard.

My first task was to drive the General’s car through Communist East German checkpoints and on to Berlin.  The General and Mrs. Walker took the train. At Checkpoint Alpha, I was waved into a parking spot by an East German soldier and directed to enter a small guardhouse to have my papers scrutinized.  Carefully, I gathered my ID’s, Passport, and the registration for the General’s car.  I had read too many spy novels by this time, and I was confident that the East German and Soviet soldiers standing around knew that I represented a high ranking American official.  At any moment, they would pull me into the rear of the guardhouse and beat me with a rubber hose until I spilled all the Top Secret information entrusted to me.  I passed my papers through a hole in an obscure window to a pair of waiting hands.

Suddenly, a door beside the window opened, and a Russian soldier came and stood next to me.  He was tall with a shaved head.  His thigh-high black boots shined almost mirror-like, and he looked very young…maybe 18 at best.  I looked down to see if he had cuffs or a rubber hose. Seeing none, I breathed easier and waited for the return of my papers.  As I waited, the young Russian began to make hand motions to his lips while staring at me. At first, I had no idea what he was doing, but he began uttering a soft hissing sound almost stuttering.  Finally, that hissing sound became a very butchered pronunciation of the word “cigarette.”  The young Russian wanted a Marlboro, and I did not have one to give him. He was very disappointed, but handed me back my papers and sent me on my way—no cuffs needed. We made it through Checkpoint Bravo and on into Berlin without incident—except for the East German guard at Bravo, who asked me for a Playboy magazine, and if I’d I had one, I would have given it to him. We were now behind the Iron Curtain.

That story takes me to the slides I mentioned at the beginning. As I worked through them on Thursday, I came to the slides from Berlin, and I once again felt the feelings that were always in the background there. The Berlin Wall was not far from our quarters–and my pregnant young wife.  Tanks would roll down the street in the middle of the night, rattling our windows. Almost weekly, the news would come over Armed Forces Radio detailing the killing of an East German fleeing oppression and attempting to make it over that wall. I made many trips to the wall and to Checkpoint Charlie to try and understand the need to keep a country’s citizens contained. I wanted to run across the border and ask the “why” question, but barriers, barbed-wire, and the threat of bullets prevented that.

There was no need for social distancing back then, and, as energetic young people, we socialized and made the very best of a life lived behind a wall, much like we do today while standing six feet apart. We wore uniforms, not masks, and every one of us stood together, doing our part to deter and defeat an enemy we barely understood. We did it one day at a time. We’re in a fight against a different enemy now.

Helen and I were long gone when that wall fell and life improved for the East Germans. The circumstances now are much different, although death is among the potential outcomes. This wall will crumble too. It will require all of us to work together, but it will happen. When this barrier drops, life is sure to be different, hopefully for the better. Maybe we will no longer have to hear words like surreal, bizarre, and unprecedented. 

We’re stayin’ home, but we’re still Easin’ Along.