IT'S A MAD MAD MAD MAD WORLD !!!!!!!!!!!!

If memory serves me it was 1993 when a movie by the above name hit the big silver screen.  I never saw the movie but I know it was a big success.  I also know it was a comedy and won an Academy Award and was nominated for several more.  I'm not a movie person myself. I have a hard time sitting for that long of a period.  Just give me a rerun of a good old 30 to 60 minute TV western  show like Gunsmoke or Bonanza and I'm happy.  For some reason the title of this movie has been rolling around in my mind for days.  It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World over and over and over again.  I kept wondering if maybe I should watch this movie.  I decided no, as I was sure it would accomplish nothing so instead I decided to just concentrate on the title itself.

  Of course the operative word in the title is .....ready for this bit of wisdom............  "MAD"..........  Well I'm sure I impressed you with that knowledge but have you ever really thought about the word ...."MAD"?.....  Mad can be angry.  That's how I describe Peggy's attitude every time I screw up which is pretty often.  Peggy is  "mad" at me.........  You can also use the word "Mad" in describing say a dog gone wild which is much different than "Girls gone Wild".  It means the dog is abnormally furious or ferocious.  Maybe  affected by rabies.  Or you can use "mad as in being overcome with desire or infatuated,  like you know being mad about someone.  You have to be very careful because there is a difference in being mad at someone and being mad about someone.  And then you have "Mad" as just gone crazy.  Out of their minds.  No sense of reasoning.  As I thought about all of this I suddenly realized why the title had four  "MADs" in it.  The world is four times..."MAD".........  We are angry,  we are fercious,  we are full of desires and we have totally lost our minds...

Now don't get mad (angry) at me but you....yes you.....  are a mad person.  You might be very sweet and calm and nice awww,  I could go on telling you how great you are but in reality you are ...."MAD".....  One time mad,  Two times mad,   Three times or four times mad.......I don't know but you are mad....  We are all mad.  If you're a republican you're mad at the democrates and if you're a democrate you're mad at the republicans.  If you white you're mad at the blacks and if you're black you're mad at the whites.  If you happen to be Hispanic at one time or another you are mad at everyone and at one time or another everyone is mad at you.  If you're poor you're mad at the rich man (or woman) and if you're rich you're mad at the poor man (or woman).   In fact if you're a woman you're sometimes mad at the man and vice-versa.  And now we have a bunch that are mad at the Police because one or two may have made a mistake (I'm not gonna take a side on this because I don't want you mad at me) and another bunch mad at the first bunch for being mad at the Police.  The whole world is mad it seems and if you aren't mad.... Just give the media a day or two and I can guarantee you they will make you mad about something.  I remember when the newscasters just reported the news and now their job is to make you mad and tell you who to be mad at.

Sometimes all of this being mad just makes me sick and tired.  I don't want to be mad anymore.  I want to just get along.  I want to like everyone and be nice to everyone and I want everyone to be nice to me.  I'm tired of all the protesting  and burning buildings and profanity laced comments and the such.  I've decided to not be mad at anyone anymore.  At least I'm not gonna be mad anymore until my Georgia Bulldawgs get beat again and then whatever team beats them better watch out because I have the whole WORLD WIDE WEB at my finger tips and I'm gonna be reaaaaal mad........  Just something to think about......................................

 

 

WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU USE ALL YOUR NUMBERS UP ??????????????

It was February 5,  1991.  You may think that was a while ago and that it's strange that it's so clear in my mind but I remember it like it was yesterday.  I'm very thankful that my rememberer still works sometimes.  I'll try to explain why all of this is still so fresh in my mind after all this time.  You see,  February 5 is my birthday.  My son Josh's birthday is February 1st.  Josh had just turned 5 years old and as most 5 year olds, he was very inquisitive.  We had just had cake and ice cream and were  sitting around the den talking and Josh,  while sitting on the floor playing with some of his cars,  looked up at me and asked.....Dad....  What happens when you use all your numbers up????  At first I didn't understand the question,  but then I realized what he was asking about.  To Josh birthdays were just numbers and I assume he liked these numbers so well he wanted to make sure we had all the numbers we wanted. 

As life goes on we learn that how many numbers we have aren't near as important as what we do with these numbers.  We learn to look at our numbers with a new and different perspective than when we were five years old.  When we are young children we look out at our future.  We set goals for the next 10,  20, or even the next 50 years that we assume will follow.  We think our numbers will go on forever.  Then as we get a little older,  we only look for the next five or so years and then,  just next year and finally we think of just today.  And as we get older we not only look ahead in a different way, but we find ourselves looking back more often.  We start this looking back at a young age also but as the numbers we have left changes,   so does our perspective.  We start out looking at "things" that make us happy,  then turn to "things and times" that make us happy,  and then we find  the things that make us happy have disappeared.  We still remember the times but now what has moved to first place is the  "people" that make us happy.  I think  all of this is  a cause to celebrate.  A time to join with those people we love.  A time to remember and a time to maybe shed a tear or two.  A time to really look at those around us and a time to remember the good times with those that have used all their numbers up.  YES....May tomorrow is a day to Give Thanks.

When I was a young child,  I wanted to be thankful for a new bike.  Now that I'm old I'm thankful for the old second hand bike I had.

When I was a teen, I wanted to be thankful for the shiny new Corvette I had.  Now that I'm older, I'm thankful for the 53' Mercury I had instead.  The Blue bomb we called her.

When I was a teen ,  I also wanted to be thankful for having the prettiest girl in school on my arm.  Now that I'm older,  I'm thankful for having the most beautiful woman in the world that I've called my wife for 44 years.

When I was a young man I was so proud when Cindy, My first born came, that I told everyone I wanted a dozen just like her.  Now that I'm older I'm still proud of and thankful for Cindy,  but I'm also proud and thankful for Vicki and Josh and I'm so very thankful that God saw fit "not" to give me three children just alike but three as different as night and day.

When I was young I wanted a big "house" with big rooms.  I'm now thankful for our cozy  "home" that love fills with a warmth that man cannot produce.

I'm thankful for the seven Grands that will be at our house tomorrow and the love I will see shared by them, one for another, as we eat and share stories of old times together and dreams of times to come.

I could go on and on about things and times and people I'm thankful for.  I could talk about vacations and family times.  I could write pages about my sister Dianne, that went to be with the Lord this year, and talk about the love that she shared with us all and the way she shared God's love until her last day here.  I could talk about friends that I still have from Kirkwood and from High School.  I could talk of new friends I've made on facebook and at our antique booth.  I could tell of how thankful I am to still be here after my heart surgery almost four years ago, when the doctors told me my numbers should have been used up then.  And I could tell you about how thankful I am to have had my surgery because it made me slow down and really notice all the great things and people I'm surrounded by and it also gave me a chance to write some of my feelings down that hopefully the grands will enjoy as they get older.  Yes I'm a Blessed Man.  I am Blessed by a loving God,  by a loving family and by loving friends.  And today and tomorrow and everyday that follows I will have my own special THANKSGIVING DAY.  For you see.......  I haven't yet used all my numbers up.....

HAPPY THANKSGIVING MY FRIENDS.  MAY GOD BLESS YOUR DAY AND GRANT YOU MANY MORE NUMBERS......................

THEY CALL IT PROGRESS,  I CALL IT SOMETHING ELSE

I sit here on a cold blustery morning and as is so often the case,  my mind wonders back to a simpler time.  A time when there were no bills,  no ills and no pills to take every day.  My biggest concern back then was who was going to join the rest of the neighborhood kids up at "THE FIELD".  Oh "THE FIELD"......  It was our  (the neighborhood kid's) field of dreams.  At the time it was as big as Ponce de Leon ballpark, but in reality it was probably 175 feet by 175 feet.  No matter the size,  size really didn't matter,  it was where legends were made,  dreams came true and although I didn't realize it at the time lessons were learned.  The field was just part of a city block that for some reason had never been developed.  It fronted Winter Avenue on the east,  Leland Terrace  on the west and Park Place on the south.  I knew it had to be an important field because Park Place was right beside the Boardwalk on the Monopoly Board.  On one corner of the block was what we called the Little Store.  It was just a little neighborhood store where we always went to buy candy and whatever else our moms would send us after.  It was also where I learned my first entrepreneurial skills.  I learn very early on that I could comb the back alleys for empty Coke bottles and take them to the Little Store and trade them for money and with this money I could buy  candy.  As you can see,  I learned about the pleasures of life at an early age.   Yes,  life was simple and the bottle business was good. 

Right next to the Little Store was a restaurant called the College Inn Restaurant.  You see the north side of the block, where our field of dreams was, had been developed. There were these two businesses along with a Pure Gasoline Station and these three business faced College Avenue. It was called College Avenue because about two miles down the road was Agnes Scott College. I ride by this area pretty often nowadays but it's all changed.. Oh sure, most of the houses are still there and the streets are still there but the field and the businesses have been replaced by a Marta Station. Rapid transit they call it... Progress they say.... It's for the betterment of the people they tell me
 ... I beg to differ..... Part of whats wrong today is Rapid Transit. Seems like we're trying to get everywhere and do everthing to fast. We're trying to get our children grown to fast. I learned more at that field and The Little Store and the Pure Gasoline Station and The College Inn Restaurant than I bet anyone has ever learned on a Marta Train. I learned that it's good to create your own entertainment. I learned about teamwork and competition. I learned about fair play. I discovered that I could learn from the older kids and I learned that when I got older I needed to be patient with the younger kids. At the Pure Gasoline Station I learned it was a good thing to take time with a young child and to not just tell him what you were doing to fix a car but to show him. I learned what "Full Service" meant and that it wasn't a bad or demeaning thing to get dirty while working and earning a living. And ohhh the things I learned at The College Inn Restaurant. The restaurant wasn't just a sit down restaurant but also a drive-in restaurant. You could pull your car in the back, park under the awning, and Ol' Henry would come out, take your order and have your food to you before the first inning was over. You see, the parking lot backed right up to our field. Ol' Henry was what we called the "Curb Boy". The Varsity calls them "Red Caps" but to us Ol' Henry was just a "Curb Boy". At the time, I thought Ol' Henry was an older man but looking back now I would guess O' Henry was 19 or 20 years old. On those hot days when the sun would beat down on us, Ol' Henry would call for us to come on up and get us a drink. He would buy us all a coke and he taught us how to sit and rock on a coke crate. If I close my eyes I can still hear Ol' Henry telling us a story or talking about a catch one of us had made in the field or how far one of us kids had hit the ball, all the time laughing from the depths of his belly. When it was cold weather we would gather in a little shack they had built for Ol' Henry on the back of the restaurant to get out of the cold. Again we would grab us a coke crate, sit down around a little wood stove, rock and listen with smiles on our faces as Ol' Henry told us his stories. I don't think I ever knew a happier soul than Ol' Henry. He was color blind, he enjoyed his work, he shared his wealth, and yes, looking back he was a very wealthy young man, and he loved life. Ol' Henry was one of the first people to teach me that riches aren't to be measured in material things and people shouldn't be judged by the color of their skin.

Yep...They call it progress.... They can dig up the field.... They can tear down the old businesses and the can build something new and shiny, but they can never take away the memories and the lessons learned and they can never take away the laughter that I can still hear coming from the depths of Ol' Henry's belly. Oh the memories we've built. Just something to think about......................................................

NEW AND IMPROVED......or..........JUST LEAVE WELL ENOUGH ALONE

How many times have you heard or seen the phrase "New and Improved" written or said about some product that you use daily?  So many times I hear a company use that phrase, only to find out I liked the old version better.  Just once......I mean just one time, I want to hear a company spokesperson say.....  Well we tried to make it better but through our research,  we found it better to just,,,,,,,  are you ready for this........"To just leave well enough alone."  Coca Cola tried what they called "New Coke" a few years back and found they were wrong when no one liked the "New Coke",  and then they told us they were going back to the old recipe.  Old recipe ??????  I say "Hog Wash".  I tell you the Coke you buy today doesn't taste like Coke did when I was a kid.  They should have just left  "well enough alone" in the first place.  Coke talks about their secret formula that is hidden away somewhere in a bank vault and only one or two people have access to this secret formula to which once again I say  "Hog Wash".  It's a good story but they haven't used that secret formula in years so it makes me wonder if anyone knows in what bank the vault is located.

And before you jump on me for picking on  Coca Cola,  let me assure you that I love the Coca Cola Company.  I started collecting Coke  memorabilia when I was a teenager. I guess I'm just tired of us trying to improve everything,  just to find out later, we had it right to start with.  Do you remember drinking an Orange Crush Soda in those dark brown bottles.  When they went to clear bottles, it never tasted the same.  I always wondered if there was a secret ingredient hidden from eyesight in those dark brown bottles that was removed from Orange Crush when they went to clear bottles.  And Chocolate milk..... Remember how sweet and thick in was when it came in those little glass bottles.  Then it was decided to "New and Improved" it and put in plastic jugs and those wax covered paper cartons and chocolate milk has never tasted the same since.  Or how about Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.  I think they must have changed the brand of peanut butter they use.  I know they still have some of the old peanut butter on hand because they use it in the Reese's Eggs at Easter.  I can taste the difference so I buy extras and freeze them to eat later.   I could go on and on about the "New and Improved" foods.  Like Burger King French Fries.  I use to never want anything else to eat but those fries.  Even the Varsity has gone to "New and Improved" and I lust for an old timey Glorified Hamburger.  I'm sure they are different today. They don't taste the same.

And it's not just the food.  We've improved our landmarks and parks until we've ruined them.  I liked Stone Mountain much more when it was just a big rock in the middle of the woods.  Back then our entertainment was just climbing the big rock and  sharing time with our friends. Then the State decided to  "New and Improve" the big rock...  And I remember going to Piedmont Park to play a round of golf or touch football with friends and later on to listen to free concerts by The Almond Brothers Band.  Then the city improved it by having Big Events and Festivals......  I don't know......  I just liked it better when we didn't depend on others for our entertainment.....  We entertained ourselves.

And how about our "New and Improved" transportation.  When I was a kid we had Street Cars or Trolley Buses everywhere.  Then it was decided they weren't a good form of transportation so they removed all the overhead electric lines and paved over or dug up the tracks and now years later we have spent millions to replace a streetcar line that goes just over two and a half miles.   Back in my days we didn't have Marta.  We had  Atlanta Transit Company which was first owned by Georgia Power  and Later by a group of Atlanta businessmen.  You could ride anywhere in Atlanta for 5 cents then, but the big difference between Marta (which is Government operated)  and the Atlanta Transit Company (which was owned by the private segment)  is that Atlanta Transit made money.    Hmmmmm  "New and  Improved"......  Again  "Hog Wash".  As I was thinking back I went all the way back to I believe second grade at Kirkwood Grammar School.  I believe my teachers name was Mrs Milligan (correct me if I'm Wrong) and we went on what has always been my favorite school field trip.  We boarded  the famous train,  "The Nancy Hanks",  and took a ride to Griffin Ga.  Oh what a thrill that was.  Others tried "New and Improved" field trips  but that train ride has remained the best ever for me.

We have tried to improve revivals by moving them from tents to inside gigantic coliseums and we tried to improve  the circus by doing the same.  We tried to replace the cane pole with an electric reel on a fiberglass rod and some people think video games are an improvement over hide and seek at dusk and catching lightning bugs in a fruit jar.

And what about government?????  Is  it also  "New and Improved"?   I remember when our Constitution meant something.  When our elected officials served their  constituents instead of their party.  I remember when a new law was passed because it was the right thing to do and not because it would raise more in taxes.  I remember when prayer was in schools and the teachers were respected by the students and the parents.

I remember when you would receive a hand written thank you note for a gift and not an E-mail.  And when you wanted to talk to someone you would call them on the phone or better yet go over to their house for a visit.  And what is all this computer dating and speed dating stuff?  What ever happened to a movie and a burger or just riding around and getting to know each other??   And we wonder why the divorce rate is up.  "NEW and IMPROVED"...........................I think not.................

I like some of these new fangled things we have today but  "New and Improved????
I'm not so sure.........  Sometimes I believe it's better to ...."Just leave well enough alone"......................................

THE NEW OLD DESK


It's  Saturday morning.  I sit here on the couch and the TV is blaring but I hear nothing.  The picture is bright with lights and changing  colors and people are running around but me,,,,,     I see nothing.  All the sounds I hear and all the pictures I see are in my mind.  Oh me I think to myself.   My brain has no discipline.  It goes where ever it wants to go.  I try my darndest to change the channel of my mind but my brain is cross wired I'm sure.  The story it is telling  seems to have no plot.  In actuality it is kind of boring.  I ask myself,  "Why are we going here???   What's the point???   I finally succumb.  It has taken a lifetime, but I have learned the hard way, that I can't overpower my brain no matter how hard I try.  "OK ALREADY " I tell myself.  "Go ahead and tell your ol' story.  Go ahead and feed whatever it is that is hungry inside of you.  I'll just sit back and be bored".............  And so the story begins:

It was about 35 or so years ago and we were in need of a desk.  You know.  Just a common desk.  Not too big.  Just something functional.  Something to sit and pay bills at.   Somewhere to store a few records.  It was probably a Saturday morning much like today.  As we headed out, we stopped by the in-laws house.  I have no idea why.  Maybe the drop the Girls off for a short visit while we were shopping.  As we walked in the door the girls were excited to see Granny and PaPa and we explained where we were headed.   My mother in-law listened intently as we told her we were going to buy a desk.  She told us she had an older desk that they no longer used that we were welcome to. 

It was a very simple desk.  Made of clear maple wood.  It was small but had several drawers.  By no means was it a show piece but would easily fit into a corner of a room.  She said they had bought it many years ago and it had served its purpose in their household.  We were welcome to it if we wanted it.  My first thoughts were,  "This will work great!!!!!   And the price is right!!!!  and, and, and,  I won't have to go shopping!!!!!"   This was what I call a WIN WIN WIN situation.  We loaded it up and home we went with our brand new old desk.

When we arrived back home and unload our new desk, I took my first hard look at it.   It was a good piece of furniture,  had very good bones as they say,  but it did have a blemish or ten and more that a few scratches.  As I had seen when first loading it up,  it wasn't beautiful but beauty wasn't what I was after anyways.  I was more interested in usefulness.  The more I looked the more I decided that all the desk needed was some TLC......  you know tender loving care.  I soon made a decision....Time to refinish the desk.  Awwwww....... "Blemish Be Gone"......That must come in a can I thought so off to the hardware store I went.  At the hardware store,  I was introduced to a can of what is called "Kutzit.   The label said it was a "miracle product."   Just brush it on and it does all the work.  Of course the directions did tell me to wear rubber gloves and I always follow directions  ( I think you call that a sarcastic statement.   I am a man after all)......  These same directions also told me to use it in a well ventilated area.  I decided that the driveway was as well ventilated as you can get so to the driveway I went.    Me and our new old desk.  As the directions told me to do,  I got me a paint brush,  a putty knife,  paper towels,  of course my rubber gloves.  The directions also said I needed safety goggles but since I didn't have any I just wore my sun glasses.   You of course understand how important it is to look cool when you are doing manly things like refinishing furniture using some ungodly dangerous toxic chemicals.   This Kutzit turned out to be all it was advertised.  Just brush on a very generous coat,  then you wait,  and as Peggy will attest to,  I'm very good at waiting,  and then scrap it off with your putty knife.  The more I scraped off this combination of wax build up, old varnish and toxic Kutzit solution, the bigger mess I had.  I was just thankful I had followed the directions and gone outside to my well ventilated driveway because I knew all I would have to do when our new old desk was stripped was move the desk out of harms way pick up the dirty paper towels and hose down the driveway.  I was not yet halfway through with the new old desk make over and I could already feel my head and chest swelling up with this thing we call pride.  I couldn't wait until I was finished to show off to Peggy so I called out to her to come look at how good of a job I was doing.  As she came out she oohed and awwwed at the progress I was making and my chest and head swelled more and more.  Peggy, being the supporting wife she is decided she would sit and watch her manly husband performing this manly deed with these toxic chemicals.  Now here is where the problem started.  I think she was at fault but she said it was all my fault.  First off, I had read and followed all the directions.  On the other hand she had not read the directions.  Secondly the directions said nothing about wearing rubber pants if you intended to sit down on the driveway in a well ventilated area.  Thirdly, I didn't ask her to sit down, on the driveway  and watch her husband perform the macho procedure on our new old desk.  Therefore, it had to be her fault she had a big blister of her sittin' down part......  Not mine.

Well, we  finally  got over the blame game and all I had to do was award her a purple heart for the collateral damage she received while serving in  hazardous duty as a supportive wife.  Meanwhile after getting the old new desk stripped of what we later started to refer to as shrapnel,  we sealed and sanded the desk and we sealed and sanded the desk and we sealed and sanded the desk again.  We then applied three coats varnished and had a finished product.  We had our very own new old desk.  Our youngest daughter Vicki now has that desk and when I walk into her house, a smile comes to my face and a humbleness comes to my heart.  A smile because of the refinishing experience and a humbleness because that desk is just like you and me.  You see,  all God wants is for us to give ourselves to Him.  Sure we have a blemish or ten just like the new old desk.  W have numerous scratches too,  just like the desk.  He doesn't care how pretty we are or how big and grand we are.   He sees us a useful and functional, and He loves us,  just as Peggy and I saw and loved that desk.  He will take you and strip you of all our imperfections.  He will sand you and "Seal You" and put a clear coat on you just I we put one on that old new desk.   Will you be prettier than you were before?  Not to the world but you will be beautiful to God, and you will be dressed in a new glow like you never had before.

Yes, it is just an old desk.  It is small.  It is plain.  But oh the stories it can tell.   It was a much better story than was on TV on this Saturday morning.  It was something to think about on this Saturday morning............................

IN MEMORY OF MY  SISTER  (DICY)

It seems everything I've seen and everything I've read for the last few weeks in someway has made me think of, or brought a memory of Dianne to my mind.  Like the other day I read a piece where someone was talking about life.  They said  "Life is uncertain,  life is very fragile,  life can end at anytime, in the blink of an eye it can be gone. Then he went on to say  "Therefore we should always eat desserts first."  I have not only heard Dicy say this,  I have seen her put this into practice.  She loved her "sweets".  Even when we were children I can remember her telling Dad, she needed some money so she could go to the little store at the corner of Leland Terr. and College Ave. to buy herself something that was a little sweet.  I also remember not long ago, Dicy, Julian, Peggy and myself were out doing whatever for a day and we stopped at Pasta Bella for lunch.  Dicy ordered a piece of cake for dessert and they brought out the biggest piece of cake I've ever seen.  It was at least a 1/4 of a cake.  Of course the first thing that came to Dianne's mind and the first words that came to her lips were...."Y'all help me eat this".....  To Dicy life was sweet....Life was a dessert....and life and it's sweetness was something that had to be shared.  It had to be shared  and share it she did.  If you needed something you didn't have to ask.  She wasn't one to say..."If I can help just let me know."   She was one that if she could help you, she just "did".   A more caring person I've never known.

Another  thing I read a while back that made me think of Dicy was a poem by David Harkins.  It's called "She Is Gone" and was shared at the memorial of a good friend of mine.  It fit Dianne's life and what I know would be her wishes for us as well.

You can shed tears that she is gone
or you can smile because she has lived.

You can close your eyes and pray that she will come back
or you can open your eyes and see all she has left.

Your heart can be empty because you can't see her
or you can be full of the love you shared.

You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.

You can remember her and only that she's gone
or you can cherish her memory and let it live on.

You can cry and close your mind,
be empty and turn your back

or you can do what she would want:
smile, open your eyes, love and go on.

That's what Dicy would want....For us to smile as we continue our walk through life....For us to open our eyes to the beauty and wonders God has given us in this place we call earth ........ She would want us to love one another,  to enjoy one another and to share openly, not so much material things but things of our heart......and last she would want us to go on living life to the fullest.....To make sure we enjoy the "Desserts" of life.

 

The other day My nephew,  Johnny Holders'  mother,  was sharing some pictures with me at  hospice.  They were pictures Johnny and Jill had taken on a recent trip to California to see their new grandson.  It's strange what we sometimes see in photographs.  Sometimes we see things or people that aren't even there.  One particular picture was of Johnny and his four year old granddaughter on the beach walking toward the ocean.  All you could see were their backs,  the sand and this vast ocean that layed berfore them and that goes on for ever and ever.  Johnny had the hand of his granddaughter and she had the hand of her grandfather.  That's all the picture showed, but I saw so much more.  I could see a love in those hands clasped together so tightly.  It wasn't one hand holding the others hand.  It was both holding each others hand.  One hand offered protection and guidance.  It offered assurance ......The other hand offered trust and confidence......Both hands offered a love that I do not have the words to explain but the photo someway showed that love.  The photo showed a man and a child....a man and a child standing on what I like to refer to as the  "Edge of Eternity".  The sand being the edge of this life and the great ocean being the eternity.   We know not exactly what is out there in our own eternity.  We know not exactly what is out there in Dianne's eternity, but we do know it is beautiful.   We do know that we will share it with loved ones.  We do know it goes on for ever and ever.  We know....we have assurance....we have confidence that our Father,  our God has prepared a wonderful place for us.  He has prepared a dessert bigger and sweeter than our minds can comprehend and one day we will walk in that place hand in hand.

 

1 Peter 1:3-5Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God’s power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time.

We love you Dicy

May God bless us all.............................................

 

 

 

 

IT'S  "JUST STUFF"

I'm not one to share personal or family issues on social media outlets.  I believe if it's personal or family,  in most cases,  the situation  should be kept private.  That being said,  I also believe sometimes,  very seldom but sometimes,   you are left with no other choice but to go to your friends and extended family for help or advice.  I have decided this is one of those times.

I hope you will not think bad of me or the family as you read this and after you have heard the complete story,  I feel certain you will understand how these things could happen.  As I sit here thinking about this situation,  I can truthfully say understand how it could  happen to anyone,  even to you.  In fact, it may have already infiltrated one of your family members or a loved ones lives.  Maybe it has even entered your own life.  I just hope I can depend on you, for your help and support after you read my story.  For you to totally understand this predicament we have gotten ourselves into,  I need to go back to the very beginning,  so pour your sweet self a cup of coffee,  sit down and lean back,  and let me try to explain.

It all started years ago.  It started innocently enough.  We,  Peggy and I, were just out to have a little fun.  Good family time if you will.  It was just something we could do and enjoy together.  To start with, we would just stay in our own neighborhood.  At first it was "JUST the little STUFF" we would buy.  You know,  a dish here or a trinket there.  We would just ride around and look for hand printed signs and it seemed everyone was selling this "STUFF".  They were selling this "STUFF" they had accumulated from only God  knows where and people were actually paying good money for this "STUFF". They called it Yard Selling or Garage Selling.  I'm sure you've seen them.  Shoot......  You may have even had one or gone to one of these sales  yourself.  Let me warn you......  Be careful ......BE VERY CAREFUL.  In the beginning,  it's just the little "STUFF ".... but it can turn into an addiction.  Well, back to our story.  From the safety of our  own little neighborhood we started to branch out.  You see,  when we first started as I said it was just little "STUFF" but on occasion you would find some really cool and unusual  "STUFF."   You know what I mean.  Antique "STUFF" or vintage "STUFF".  We thought  to ourselves if you can find this "STUFF" in our little area of town,  there has to be better "STUFF" out there somewhere.  So we ventured farther out.  First it was just to surrounding towns and cities.  Then we went to other states.  The need and desire to find bigger and better "STUFF" was what compelled us to go on.  Yard sales and garage sales turned into estate sales and estate sales turned into auctions and....well, you get the picture..  We became consumed with the desire to find and buy the best and most unique an unusual  "STUFF" we could.  And now,  because of a TV show,  at times we are even called "PICKERS" whatever a picker is.  My Mama use to fuss at me for being a picker so the word doesn't bring back pleasant memories.  I didn't like to hear my Mama fussin'.

Well,  all this "STUFF" buying brings us to here.  We've decided we can't stop buying so we must get rid of some of our "STUFF",  other wise we are afraid we may become,  lord forbid,  one of those dreaded people called "HOARDERS."  This is where "you" come in.  We've opened an Antique & Stuff Booth here in Douglasville and if you need or want to buy some "STUFF",  there's a good chance we've got it, and we want you come by and look.  We want to save you the time and expense,  (you have noticed gas has gone up haven't you?   I remember when it was 26 cents a gallon.  There I go,  living in the past again but darn it's fun.  Oh yeah....I've got to get back to my story.....Where was I?)
Oh yeah,  We want to save you the time and expense of riding all over creation looking for that special piece of  "STUFF" to improve your "decor".   I like that word  "DECOR"....That's short for decoration for your house.  Anyway, We are located in Booth 64 at BEN'S FURNITURE AND ANTIQUES,  9579 Hwy 5, Dougalville Ga, in the old Kmart Shopping Center or if you want to be kind of  "high falutin", you can tell all your friends that you're going to  "THE ARBOR SQUARE SHOPPING CENTER".  We have an assortment of antiques, vintage items, repurposed items,  custom made primitive reproductions and........you know........  "JUST STUFF"....
We also have a facebook page and it's called.....you guessed it... "JUST STUFF ANTIQUES" and we want you to like us on our page.  We don't just want you to, we  need you to "Like" us on facebook and  we need you to share our page with all your family and friends and your preachers and school teachers and you mail carriers and the cashier at the corner store and the PTA...well you get the idea.  We need to get the word out there. And  since we can't stop buying,  it's only natural that we will have different "STUFF" in our booth every time you come in.  We really need to sell some "STUFF".  If you're a chicken rancher like me,  you know the price of laying mash and cracked corn has gone up and Peggy thinks she has to feed all the birds in middle Georgia and the price of bird seed has gone out of site.  Peggy also doesn't want her birds taking a bath in a creek or a mud puddle, (She's afraid the water may may be polluted)  so she has placed bird baths through out the yard to insure "God's creatures of the air" have a proper place to get clean and the water bill is soaring at "Peggy's spa for the feathered masses".  Plus,  We don't want to be known as the dreaded those "HOARDERS" we're starting to hear about.  Being known as a  "HOARDER" is not my idea of making it bigtime in  TV land.

So as you can see.  The need is great.   We need your help. Come on in,  look around and........ "remember when your Mama had one of those",,,,, and Please Please Please like and share our page.

As they say at Hardy Chevrolet......WE LOVE AND WE NEED YOU.....

A SIMPLE SQUARE OF WHITE CLOTH.........

I'm sure a lot of people would say I spend to much of my time living in the past.  As I've gotten older,  it doesn't make much of a difference what people think or say about me anymore.  You see,  I've found I enjoy reminiscing about times and people and time spent with people and in my later years I've set the goal to enjoy things and be happy.  Now, I don't mean to brag, but I've been pretty successful at being happy the last few years.  I've also found that many times as I reminisce, I find a lesson to learn that may have escaped my mind at an earlier time, but I have also found we are never to old to learn.  At  times, I've  probable even reminisced about times I've spent with many of you, and I'm thankful for those times because it is those time, that have made me who I am.

Most times it doesn't take a lot to get my mind going.  Sometimes, something will just appear and make me think of things in my past.  You know,  things we thought were so great and things we wondered how we ever got along with out, and now we don't have them or use them or they have been improved so much that we never think about the old models anymore.  You know the things I'm talking about.  Things like fax machines and the old beepers that just beeped and you had to  find a pay phone to call the office to see who wanted you.  How long has it been since you used a pay phone, or how long since you have even  seen one?  And do you remember the first cell phones that weighed 6 pounds and cost a thousand dollars and 50 cents a minute to use.  Or do you remember when gas cost 26 cents a gallon and 50 cents worth would get you to school and back home all week.  Of course I remember that sometimes it was hard to come up with that 50 cents.  I remember cutting the neighbors grass with a reel type lawn mower for a quarter and with that quarter I could go to the movies on Saturday and buy a coke and a box of popcorn. 

I could go on and on with other thing I remember as I'm sure you could, but it was something much more simple than a movie or cell phone that got my mind to going  Saturday morning.  No it wasn't the cost gasoline or even my first used bicycle.  I got up early as I do most mornings,  took my shower,  and as I was getting dressed,  for some reason I looked in my top dresser drawer.  Now as most men do, I have a top dresser drawer that I hardly ever look in.  It's full of things I seldom use.  Things like gloves for cold weather,  a knee brace,  rings and watches I never wear and old pocket knives I never carry.  But yesterday as I opened that drawer the first thing I saw just jumped out at me.  It was a "white handkerchief".......That's right....just a simple  "white cotton handkerchief."   I picked it up,  sat down on the bed and stared at this simple one foot square piece of white cloth.  I've never had a habit of carrying a handkerchief.  I have no idea where the handkerchief came from but I couldn't take my eyes off of it for a few minutes.  I wonder how many men carry a handkerchief in their pockets now days?  I don't mean for decoration, but to use.  I would bet very few.

As I stared at this handkerchief,  it took me back to a time in my life when I was invincible.  Oh sure,  I could get hurt.  I could fall and skin my knee or I could even get hit in the nose with a baseball and get a bloody nose.  I could stick my finger with a fish hook.  I could eat a fudge cycle and have it melt all over my face and hands and sometime I would even shed a tear and need my eyes wiped and need to blow my nose.  The one constant was my dad was always there with his handkerchief to clean me up and make me feel better.  I knew I was protected.....  I knew I was safe....  When dad got dressed it was as natural for him to put his handkerchief in his pocket as it was for him to put his socks on.  No matter what was wiped away with that handkerchief,  seems it never had any bad germs on it,  because I never got any infections from it.  It would be very easy to say that my Dad's handkerchief had supernatural powers,  but I don't think that's what it was.  I think maybe he had the super powers.

As I closed my dresser drawer I stood up,  folded the handkerchief and put it into my back pocket.  You see,  my four year old grandson Hunter was coming over for the day and with a little boy,  you never know when you might need a simple white cotton handkerchief.....................