Memory - August 1, 2013

As published in the August 1, 2013 edition of the White River Current

I believe it was Yogi who is credited with the remark about something being “déjà vu all over again” so here it is, again.  I write this stuff, usually in one sitting, and everything I say (write) is truthful and accurate, as I remember it (my disclaimer).  I pride myself with having a good memory.  I believe the brain is somewhat like the hard drive on a computer that stores a huge amount of memory.  The key is knowing how to access that memory.  In my case, I think it has been helpful to work crossword puzzles and other type of mental games that exercise my brain.  But I have been told that sometimes the brain can play “tricks” on a person without them realizing it.  Which brings me to the topic of this issue.  I’ll just call it “memory.”  For example:  We had a chance to visit the great-grandkids a few days ago.  Apparently Molly is in the middle of her “terrible threes” and pitches a fit now and then, sometime holding her breath.  All at once my memory kicked in and I remembered the times that Molly’s granddad, Steve, also held his breath when he got overly irritated.  On one memorable occasion, he had a loud tantrum and ran into the bedroom.  Anita went to get him and found him unconscious on the floor so she screamed and picked him up we headed for the ER but by the time we got to the car he was awake and breathing normally.  I also remembered the time when I was two or three years old and also guilty of breath-holding.  My mom splashed some water in my face and that must have startled me and caused me to take a deep breath.  I think that cured me from holding my breath again.  Ah, memories.  A recent memory I have had and have mentioned a couple of times is the location of the first house that my friend and fellow OFC member, Shelby, resided when his family moved to Calico Rock.  He strongly denies ever living there, insisting that his family lived in a house across the street and the house I am referring to was occupied by another friend, Earl Ray, and his mom and dad.  Shelby has also come up with a person (Harold, another OFC member) to confirm his side of the story.  This is very troubling.  Could I actually be mistaken?

I decided to go to the senior center in a neighboring town for some professional memory testing.  I was informed that the testing would take about thirty minutes.  Before the testing began, the attractive, young technician told me she was going to give me five words to try to remember and that she would ask me for the words some time during the procedure.  The five words were “apple, tie, pen, car and house.”  This is easy, I thought.  I simply applied “Reed’s method of word association” to the words:  Apple (fruit), Tie (neck), etc.  You get the idea.  After about fifteen minutes, she asked for the five words.  When I answered “apple, tie, pen, car, house”  I thought she was going to faint.  “You’ve got a mind like a steel trap” she said.  After making a perfect score on the testing, I promised her that I would return at a later date for a more extensive examination.  Steel trap, eh!  What a relief.  But what about the house in Calico Rock where Shelby first lived?  I decided to google my brain to find the answer and there it was where it had been all the time.  My brain was playing tricks on me.  You see, I first met Shelby (along with his brothers Jimmy and Gordon) one day when I visited my friend, Earl Ray.  He said that the boys and their parents had recently moved into a house across the street but that the boys were at his house quite often.  My brain had them “living” in the Earl Ray house but “residing” in the other house.  Thank you, brain.  I believe Shelby will buy this explanation.  Makes sense to me and my memory is still intact.  Steel Trap.  For a while there I thought I was wrong, but I was wrong.  Do I need to repeat that?  What did you say?  Oh, the five words.  Let’s see now (fruit) Banana, (neck) collar,------    

Local News - July 11, 2013

As published on the White River Current - Thursday July 11, 2013

You are probably surprised to see me again so soon.  Our mutual friend, Tom*, very politely

asked me to swap weeks again because he would be en route to his summer cottage which is

located on the banks of Skiff Lake in New Brunswick, Canada.  Of course, I very graciously

agreed, not thinking that he would have the next two weeks and it would be three weeks before

you could have another Rambling column.  This could cause some of you readers to have a

severe attack of “Rambling withdrawal.”  I am going to suggest that you stop reading right now

and save this issue until next week.  This might ward off the attack, which I have been told can

be very distressing.  Please accept my sincere apologies.  I will discuss this with Tom* and make

his aware of the consequences of his actions.  In the meantime, I will use my time this week to

briefly comment on several issues, most of them newsy but probably not especially newsworthy. 

Shelby and Beth made it home safely after a long trip in their RV (a 1966 GMC bus/conversion)

to Washington (state) for a granddaughter’s HS graduation so we were able to have a semiregular meeting of the OFC.  You remember Shelby.  He’s the one who attended school here

until the tenth grade when the family moved to Oregon.  A graduate of the US Naval Academy

which may have waterlogged his brain, he can’t remember the house he lived in back when the

family was in Calico Rock.  I am fortunate to have a great memory and plan to devote a

discussion on memory in a future issue.  Anyway, moving on.  The Peppersauce Players had

their premiere performance at the newly renovated Music Hall several days ago.  The response

of the audience was, for the most part, positive.  Future performances are planned for the Fall

season.  Go by and visit the music hall and treat yourself to a breath-taking experience when you

observe all that Charles has done in restoring the old Methodist Church building.  Speaking of

Methodists, the local congregation has a new pastor.  Bill, his wife and two young children,

moved into the parsonage the last of June.  I hated to see Pastor Mike and Nancy move away

from us but I guess that’s the way Methodists do things.  I’m looking forward to welcoming the

new family to our fair city and wish them the best as they continue their ministry here.  And I

guess I should, although somewhat begrudgingly, give a symbolic goodbye wave to Mike and

Nancy, a great couple that I will remember for a long time.  The Lions Club Fireworks Show

was a great success last week.  A large crowd was assembled at the King Park to enjoy the

annual pyrotechnic bonanza that illuminated the night sky with silver and gold stars.  Did you

know fireworks had names?  Well, they do, such as Willow, Palm, Spider and Peony to name a

few.  We saw them all last week in what many described as one of the best shows ever.  Thanks

to the Lions Club and everyone who contributed in some way to make this event possible.  I

remember the very first fireworks show from several years ago.  Rayvon, Lions Club Treasurer,

made the trip to Jacksonville to purchase the supplies.  Members of the fire department

volunteered to man the cannons and do the necessary ignition of the shells to propel them high

into the air to provide the picturesque displays.  Sounds good but there was trouble ahead. 

Darkness arrived but it was several minutes before the first shot went up.  Then another five or

ten minutes before shot number two.  The show continued for what seemed like an eternity

before the last shell was launched.  My nephew from Salt Lake City was visiting us at the time. 

He couldn’t wait to tell his friends back home that he had been to a small Arkansas town over

the holiday and had seen a fireworks show that had lasted for almost three hours.  Now, and I

think it was a good decision, the show is handled by a professional group from out-of-town.  Just

another example of the fun it is to live in a small town.  That’s about it in the newsy department

of the Ramblings column for this week.  Have a good summer and I’ll see you in three weeks. 

Bye for now.

Cowboys - July 4, 2013

As published in the White River Current on Thursday July 4, 2013

I was driving home from a doctor appointment the other day when a familiar voice came over the car radio.  The twanging voice of Waylon (now deceased) was declaring, in a fast tempo,  something about being a “Rambling Man, just doing the best that I can.”  I decided right there that this could be my theme song so I rushed home and fired up the computer to see if I could find the rest of the lyrics.  Turns out that there are at least three versions of a Rambling Man song, one by the Allman Brothers, another by Hank, Sr. and even a Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Man by Bob Seger.  I liked Waylon’s version the best and considered downloading it as a ringtone on my cell phone.  By this time I had begun to lose my enthusiasm so put the project on hold.  I do think the idea had merit because I am just doing the best that I can, but aren’t we all?  Anyway, I enjoyed hearing Waylon again.  Do you remember the song he did several years ago with Willie about going to Luckenbach, Texas, Waylon, Willie and the Boys?  Anita and I and friends, Don and Maxine, visited Luckenbach (pop. about 50) a few years ago.  It is an unincorporated hamlet

located in the Texas hill country near Fredericksburg.  Nothing much there except a post office and a dilapidated dance hall where they have dances on Friday and Saturday nights.  I looked up their web site and was jerked to an upright sitting position when I saw that a group who called themselves the Drugstore Cowboys were playing on a Friday night in June.  Well, that certainly got my attention because Don and I just happened to be the organizers of a group of nine pharmacists who adopted the name, Drugstore Cowboys, and entertained thousands of Arkansans back a few years.  I shared the MC duties with Don.  He was our primary vocalist, and I was the banjo picker in the group.  Some of you may remember our performance in the King Park bandstand at one of the festivals.  We also played at pharmacy conventions in Las Vegas, NV and San Antonio, TX.  I retired from the group several years ago but Don and two others are still playing several concerts a year in and around the Little Rock area.  Now calling themselves the Drugstore Cowboys Trio, they recently played in Conway for a group that included a former Calico Rock resident, Mary Jane Kerr.  One of the most requested songs that the group does is the old Waylon tune, “Mama, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys.”  Oh, those were fun times.  When I was active with the group, I used to close the store at 6 PM, drive to Little Rock for band rehearsal, drive home arriving in Calico Rock about 2:30 AM, get a little sleep, get up in time to open the store at 8 AM and think nothing of it.  I can’t imagine doing that now and I admire Don for continuing.  He turned 85 recently.  I have to place him at the top of the list of characters I have known.  He and Maxine (married for 62 years) are more than friends.  They’re Family.  By the way, Anita and I celebrated our 60^th a few weeks ago.  I will probably talk more about Don and the other roommates in a later article which will be about college experiences.  I try not to bore you with these personal items, so I apologize.  So I’ll end this issue by going back to the top.  My favorite Willie song is “Ain’t it funny how time slips away?”  The lyrics of this song are about a guy who runs into an old girlfriend, maybe at a dance or something, it doesn’t say where.  “Well, hello there” he says, “It’s been a long, long time.”  I like this song and Willie does a good job of it.  But I really like the title because it is funny, or perhaps I should say sad, for opportunities that I have had but waited too long and now they are gone.  Too bad.  I’m not laughing as I sit here in my corner of the Queen City of the Ozarks.  If you are feeling sentimental, also, you can hear all the Waylon and Willie songs that I have referenced on YouTube.  Happy Independence Day.  See you in two weeks, maybe in a better mood.  Bye for now.

Spring - June 20, 2013

As published in the White River Current - Thursday June 20, 2013 Goodbye to spring, 2013. I hate to see you go. You have been great, the best in a long time. We will remember you. The award winning songwriter of contemporary Christian music, Kurt Kaiser, is a member of the Gospel Music Hall of Fame. One of his most popular songs is “It Only Takes a Spark”, also known by the more well-known title “Pass It On.” This song is found in many different hymnals and is particularly a favorite with church youth groups. Written in 1969, the second verse begins “What a wondrous time is spring when all the trees are budding, The birds begin to sing, the flowers start their blooming…” It certainly was a wondrous time this year. This was the year of the rose. I do not remember when there were so many and the reds were so vivid. The wildflowers were also in abundance, especially the yellow beauty, the wild Cosmos (I hope I spelled that correctly). And there were many others that made the countryside spectacular. The trees have budded and are now all leafed out providing shade for those that are fortunate to have them in their yard (we don’t). But we have had the birds. It has really been a joy watching the many different species that have visited the feeder that is located just outside our sliding glass door. Some of these have gone north for the summer but several are still around. My favorite is the State bird, the Mockingbird. We have one that seems to have a favorite spot on top of the power pole in front of our house. He will sit up there and serenade us for several minutes at a time, never repeating the same song. The other evening while I was sitting on the front porch, he flew up to his spot to begin an aria and was soon joined by four of his friends. They all began to do their thing and it was a real cacophony of discordant sounds that ended after a minute or so when the friends abruptly left. Maybe it was a territorial thing. I like the variety of the mockingbird’s song. Not like the whippoorwill that will sing “Chip butter in the white oak” over and over. My neighbor, Tom*, and I were relaxing on the deck at the bluff house the other evening when we heard the familiar “chip butter…” song in the distance. Now you may not have known this but Tom* is a self-proclaimed ornithologist. He quickly informed me that the sound was not coming from a whippoorwill but was a ??? (I forgot, so maybe he will inform us in his column next week. Anyway, summer slipped in the back door last week and will officially appear tomorrow so thank you again spring of 2013. The word, spring, of course, has other meanings as do many English words. Spring can also mean to leap forward suddenly. It can also be an elastic strip of coiled wire. But I like the definition that means water rising to the surface of the earth. The largest spring in the world (I think) is located about fifty miles north of here and is the source of a river. Blanchard spring is another popular tourist location that only a few miles south. Two springs in particular have a great meaning to me. One is the Trimble Campground spring. My grandparents, James and Rosa, used to load their children in the wagon and meet other families at the clearing by the spring for revival type meetings in the summer. Later James was instrumental in the building of a church building at the site. The building has been changed over the years but still stands. James and Rosa and several of their brothers, sisters and other relatives are buried in the cemetery located nearby. The other spring that I was referring to is located somewhere by the side of the road between Pineville and Wild Cherry. I have stopped there for a cool drink on many occasions when I was going out to the “old home place” with my dad. People used to build stone structures over the springs and kept their milk, butter and other perishables there. Some of these structures still exist, at least two in the city limits of Calico Rock (at Jackson spring and McNeill spring). Many in rural locations use springs as their primary water source. Mixing a little history along with a good dose of sentimentality here in my corner of the Queen city of the Ozarks. I’ll be back in two weeks. Bye for now.

Politics - June 13, 2013

As published in the Whiter River Current - Thursday June 13, 2013 Thanks to all of you concerned readers for the e-mails, twitters, telegrams, phone calls and personal visits inquiring about my health since I missed my regular bi-weekly visit with you last week. No, I haven’t been sick. Actually it was a swap with Tom* who you may remember fills this space on alternate weeks. Tom* politely asked, well he actually begged (groveled), to swap for this time only and of course I graciously agreed without the least bit of hesitation. So, next week I will be here again on the regular schedule and maybe this will lessen the disappointment for having to go an extra week without the ramblings. Again, my thanks and sincere apologies for the inconvenience. Now, to the business at hand. Try to visualize a scene where there is a large group of college students, each one holding up both hands with the middle and index fingers of each hand pointing straight up and each student yelling (We’re Number Two!!!). I think you can add this to Reed’s list of things you probably will never see. Everyone likes to win, be number one. A very famous football coach is credited with saying “Winning is everything.” That’s not all the quotation and I’m not sure I agree with his philosophy, but it seems to be the prevailing idea of many people. Have you ever noticed the three finalists after an event in the Olympic Games? Standing on the podium, the gold medalist is all smiles as the flag of his/her country is raised and the national anthem played. The silver medalist looks so sad and dejected, whereas the bronze medalist seems really happy. Last week, I had the distinct honor of serving as the Grand Marshall in the Lions Rodeo parade. Not to diminish the honor of my selection, but I was not the first choice for this event. The comedian, Seinfeld, once remarked, “being number two means you are at the top of all the losers.” Story of my life. I’m a loser. I was Vice-President of my senior high school class and was Salutatorian at graduation. I also finished number two among pharmacists at my college graduation. Loser!! To continue the saga, how about my political career. I was elected with no opposition to one term as alderman representing my ward on the city council. I was appointed to serve out the unexpired term of the mayor (who resigned) and was elected with no opposition for one term. I ran for school board director four times, losing two times when I had an opponent and winning twice when I didn’t. After these episodes, I was firmly assured that politics was no longer in my future. But, speaking of politics, which I try to refrain from and which I rarely do, I want to take the opportunity of thanking Tommy and Missy for providing us with a legislative update and review each week in this publication. I am a faithful reader of these reports, since I believe it is my civic duty but also because I find them quite interesting and informative. For example, in a recent issue Tommy reported that the recent legislative session that adjourned a few weeks ago was one of the longest sessions on record. He also stated that the work this General Assembly tackled in 100 days was “truly remarkable.” I agree. You are aware that we sometimes rate the effectiveness of our elected Assembly members on the number of bills that they are able to get approved. I would suggest that they all should receive high marks because they passed 1,520 of the 2,492 bills that were introduced. Let me repeat that. That’s fifteen hundred and twenty new laws that will affect us all in some way or another. I thought that when almost 800 new laws were enacted in the previous session was “remarkable” I will have to, again, agree that this is “truly remarkable.” Hopefully we all will be healthier, wealthier and maybe even a little better looking. Thanks, again, Tommy and Missy for your hard work. I think I will just crawl back to my corner here in the Queen City and try to sort everything out. Remember, I’ll see you again next week when we will again take a look at “words.” Bye for now.

Band - May 23, 2013

From: The White River Current - Thursday May 23, 2013 Anita and I spent an enjoyable evening a few days ago. We attended the school band concert at the auditorium. Ever since both of our grandsons played alto saxophone when they were in their middle school and high school, we have been interested in supporting the local bands. You should know by now that I enjoy just about any type of music, from Bach to Bluegrass. We didn’t have a band when I was in school and I have always regretted it. But I took piano lessons from first grade through high school, so I can recognize excellence when I hear it. It is amazing what these band instructors can do with these kids. We had attended the concert in the early spring and could not help but be astounded at the improvement the elementary beginners band made in just a couple of months. You could hardly believe that the very difficult arrangements being played by the high school band were being performed by students from a small school in North Arkansas. Thank you, Miss Laura, and thank you, school board members. The opportunity for a college scholarship is much greater through the band than through the sports team. Just a fact. Congratulations to all the high school graduates and a tip of the old mortar board to those receiving awards. Keep the music coming. Anyway, I think I should brag a little more about my grandsons. I believe Ross was in the beginners band the first year that the local school had a band program. He was a band member through the eleventh grade when the family moved to Mountain Home where he graduated from high school. Now a college graduate residing in Tulsa with wife, Leah, Ross is still highly involved in music. Although he has become very talented playing keyboards, he keeps his horn available with he might need it. The other grandson, Sam, who attended a much larger school in Missouri, joined the elementary band in fifth grade and continued through middle school where he played in both the concert band and the jazz band. He decided to join the high school vocal ensemble and became one of the soloists. This group was selected the “most outstanding” in the state of Missouri Sam’s senior year. If I appear to be bragging too much, well, excuse me. Anyway, I apologize for so much personal stuff. I got kind of carried away with the band information. I did, actually, get my chance just by accident when I was a senior in college. When I was going through senior registration, the college band director asked if I would be interested in playing the bass drum in the college marching band. Jumping at the chance, I quickly became a drum virtuoso. I never had so much fun in my life. We played a lot of John Phillip Sousa marches and other good stuff at football games and in several parades. A dance orchestra developed with some of the band members and I played piano with this group. My roommate, Don, was our vocalist. More about him in the next issue. Another roommate, Fred, played trumpet. One of our gigs was the fireman’s ball on a New Year’s Eve at Harrison. My goodness, I can almost hear “Dreamer’s Holiday” in the background while I am reminiscing about all the old times. I don’t want to get too carried away here. I want to save some for next time so I’ll just say Bye for now and see you in two weeks.

Comments - May 9, 2013

From: The White River Current - Thursday May 9, 2013 I’ve mentioned it before. It’s difficult for me to imagine that someone would get some kind of enjoyment reading this stuff. What started out as an opinion/editorial type of column has remained such with a few exceptions. I never dreamed that it would last this long. People come up to me quite often commenting on my writing. As a matter of fact, I have had an extra-ordinary number in the last few days, mostly with comments such as “I absolutely enjoyed, you know, your last column.” The world is full pseudo-comedians these days. I guess I’m getting what I deserve. However, some of the persons that stop me on the street I may not know or remember even though I should (and I apologize). I continue to get e-mails and an occasional long distance phone call like the one from Sam a few days ago. Sam was a 1954 graduate of CRHS. I recalled his parent’s names but couldn’t get a mental picture of his face. I’m going over to the high school soon and look him up in his senior class picture. Sam had some questions about a recent article. Maybe he will attend the all-school reunion in June and we can get re-acquainted. Now I will say it again. I’m not an authority on anything but I do have opinions on various issues and I suspect many of you have opinions that differ from mine. No problem. I will say that the vast majority of comments that I have received have been favorable and I thank you very much but there are times that I hit the sensitive button and get a different response. I really was not too surprised to get a little negative reaction to the last issue which was, you remember, about “words.” Please allow me to briefly respond to one of these responses. In an e-mail from a friend that I’ve known a long time, the writer stated that “what people do is far more important than what they say.” Well, duh! He goes on “If OMG is the worst thing you hear in public, you must live a very sheltered life.” I know he is reading this issue so I will point out that the article was about the most overused/misused words and phrases (on Reed’s list). The only reference to “worst” was the illustration about my mother and dad. But thanks for the comments because it got me to thinking about my “sheltered life.” Except for church activities and various board and committee meetings that I attend, I spend most of my time at home. My pet answer to someone who asks what I do now is “Nothing; but I keep busy at it.” So, I read a lot. And I watch some TV which is where I hear some of the things I referred to in the article. Thanks to the guy that invented the remote. I can hit the mute button or change the channel in the blink of an eye. I try to keep an open mind on political and religious issues and will continue to refrain from commenting on them, at least for the present. But it was that “sheltered life” comment that caught my attention. My parents moved from the family farm in Wild Cherry to Calico Rock soon after my grandmother passed away. Mom was pregnant at the time and Dr. Smith wanted her close by in case she had problems. She had lost a child born prematurely about three years earlier. The baby, a boy that they named Dale Brooke, is buried at the Trimble Campground cemetery. I often daydream about how life would have been with an older brother. Anyway, I entered the world without any complications. Dad always said that my mother “raised” me. Now I’m not exactly sure what “sheltered” means, but I believe my growing up was not a lot different than most. Mother worked hard and tried her best to allow me to be a normal child. But I know, now, that she worried a lot, and also prayed a lot. And, I survived. Thank you, Mom, for sheltering me. I’ll be wearing a white rose on my lapel in your honor at church Sunday. Happy Mother’s Day. I love you.