Max's Paper Route

Max’s Paper Route

            Linda and I agreed that we would try to teach our sons to have a good work ethic.  So when we thought they were old enough we insisted that they start their work life by getting a paper route.  Max was our first to enter that start of becoming a man.  He wasn’t nearly as interested in that as we were but he was basically a good boy who would do what we asked him to do so he applied for a job delivering papers and got it. 

            Although getting up at four-thirty in the morning was not one of Max’s favorite things to do, after a short time he actually became used to it. He even got to the point that he bragged about how he was the very best carrier the paper company had and he was certain that he was loved by all of his customers.  He proudly told us that he had been delivering papers for a long time and had never had a complaint.

            Until that day.

            I had just come home from work and was ready for one of Linda’s fine meals when the phone rang.  It was one of Max’s customers and he was livid.  He went on and on to me about how he depended on the morning paper to keep his business going.  And he had not received one that morning.  He explained how he had searched all over his yard and was certain that there was none there.  I listened for some time until I finally got to get a word in.  I told him that I was really sorry about the whole thing and that I would personally bring him a paper.  I assured him that Max would apologize as well. At that time of day I recognized the fact that I had two problems.  Or maybe three or four.  One was that one could not get a paper at that time of day.  Another was that Max was at school for a sport event and was not here to take it to him.  So I decided to get our copy, put it all back together, wrap it in a plastic container, and take it myself. I did that but it didn’t go far in making my day. 

            When Max got home I at once approached him with the big mistake he had made.  But Max was not taking it well.  He told me right away that the man was just not very smart.  He remembered that when he threw the paper it had gone on top of his carport. He almost yelled, “All he had to do was look up.”

            That stopped me completely.  Yes, that was all he had to do but of course he would also have needed a ladder.  I wanted to fuss at him but I could not keep from laughing.  And really that is all he would have to have done. (Now a family joke) Think about it.  How could you forget a story like that? And to top it all off later in life Max became a preacher. So still to this day he is telling everybody who will listen that all they have to do is look up.

            This is a good place to quit writing, isn’t it?  If you are missing something in your life –Look up!

Neal's Secret

Neal’s Secret

            Our son Neal has become very successful in his life but it has not always been that way.  I think he has been happy most of the time, though.  So as I was remembering events in my life that brings a smile into my heart I thought of a time and event that I think may be worth sharing.  And it is about Neal.

            There was a time when Neal was wondering how he was ever going to make ends meet.  Sort of like all of us, isn’t it? He had become an electrical journeyman but times were still hard.  So he asked questions.  He watched all of the construction workers as they did things and would ask them to show him how they would do them.  Then he would practice doing each one of them alone.  He was rapidly beginning to learn all of the trades to the point that today he has his own building company.  But this story is one that happened during his learning days when he was broke all of the time:

            Linda and I visited Neal and his family and took them to dinner.  He sat with us but said very little. It was if he had his mind on something.  And after dinner he asked me if I would mind going with him to see something.  I had no idea what he was up to but curiosity got the best of me so off we went. He took me to a place that was one that I find difficult to describe.  It was a place that sold junk I think.  It was a large room that had stuff everywhere, most of which I did not recognize. Neal explained that the things there were things used in building.  I thought I knew about such things but there were not many things there that made any kind of impression on me.  But I went with him around the room as he pointed out several articles that were of interest to him.  Then he began to smile as if he had just made the discovery of a lifetime.  He was standing in front of a large shelf that had a lot of junk on it. He then got down on his knees and began to pull boxes out from the bottom of the shelf.  After a few boxes were out he picked up one and showed it to me.  I had never seen him so excited.  The box was filled with several hundred small pieces of what may have been electronic pieces or parts.  His excitement grew as he looked at me and said, “All they want for this is five dollars. I found this box this afternoon and when I learned how little they wanted for it I knew right away they were not aware of what they had here.  So I hid it down there with all that other stuff.”

            I asked him why he just didn’t buy it when he first found it.  He looked at me with a yearning I hadn’t seen in him since he was a small child. He sort of tucked his head and almost mumbled, “I don’t have five dollars. And I was hoping maybe you would consider loaning me the money.”

            I do not have the words to tell you how sad I felt at that moment.  My son needed a very small amount and was hesitant to ask for it.  Big boys don’t cry for help you know.

            I obviously bought that whatever box and we went home.  Neal sang all the way.  When we got back to the rest of the family Neal finally told the whole story.  “That box has all the parts I need to build a complete security system for my house so my family will be safer. The people at the store didn’t know what it was.  So tomorrow I will have a safer house for my family.”

            He did build it.  And it worked.  Now I know that such a story may not impress anyone else but for me it is a memory that I will cherish as long as I live. 

            And this was the son who told me I would be disappointed in him because he didn’t want to go to college. 

           

           

Ky;e 'What's His Name'

Kyle ‘What’s His Name’

            As I look back on my early memories I can’t forget old Kyle ‘what’s his name’. I am sure he had a last name but I can never remember it. I first knew him from when we were in grade school together.  And then we also were in school together through high school. But I never saw him much during that whole time.  And for that matter, nobody else saw much of him either.  Most students in our school deemed him as about three watts as far as intellect was concerned. And whatever he did was a mystery to all of us.  So after graduation we never saw him again.

            That is, for about fifteen years.  You see, our class decided that we would have a reunion celebration every five years until we were all dead. (Which could be any time now.)  And it was at our third such celebration that this story took place:

            We were meeting at Madisonville’s finest restaurant (the only one) and were almost about to eat when Jack came in laughing, “You will never believe who is outside and on his way in!  It’s Kyle. And he just parked his brand new Cadillac and is on his way in. Man, is he dressed to the nines!”

            Everyone became excited and each wanted to know – Kyle who?  When he came in we all greeted him and wanted to know exactly what he had been doing.  So we asked him.  And he was more than anxious to tell us.  He told us how he had invented some sort of a gadget that was used by nearly every manufacturing company in existence.  He then started manufacturing that whatever it was and selling it to all the companies that needed them.  He went on to say that it only cost him about a dollar for each one he made and that he then could sell it for three dollars. And to top it off he said that he sold about three hundred of those things a day.  Wow!  We began to ask him all sorts of questions then.  He finally stood up in front of us and explained, “I have learned a lot in my life.  For most of my life I have wondered how everyone else has done it.  But now I think I know.  I have learned that if I am careful about what I spend I can make it all right on my three percent profit.

            Now in my old age I think I know, too. Sut became a master sergeant and retired at the early age of thirty eight, and Kyle learned to live on three percent.  There is still hope for me. But I think I should have asked Kyle for a job. But think about it – If you ever think that you can’t make it just remember:  Stupidity doesn’t stop everyone. 

           

A Navy Memory

A Navy Memory

            Some of my life’s memories are brief.  And so it is with the one for today. The title suggests what it might be about, but truthfully most of my Navy memories might not be what I ought to be writing about here.  But this is one that still sticks with me today. 

            I was only in the Navy for a few days when all of the new recruits were told to line up on the front porch of the welcome center at San Diego.  It was before we even had uniforms and I was still wondering if I had done the right thing by enlisting.  But it was either the Navy or be drafted into the Army and so I left architectural school during my second year at The University of Cincinnati to join the service where all of my family members had served. In fact I had come from a rather long line of naval people.  So I stood there on that porch like everyone else and wondered what was next.

            A chief petty officer came out to talk to us.  He welcomed us all into the finest service that could be had, then turned and picked up a broom.  As he stood there he asked if any of us had any college.  I raised my hand, ready to share with him my experiences at Cincy.  He called me out of line, handed me the broom, and said to the rest of the ones standing there, “While this college man now sweeps the porch, I want all of you dumb asses to watch carefully and see if you can learn something.”

            In the next four years I never again raised my hand for any reason.  And as certain as I am that nobody else learned anything at all that day, I certainly did.  The Navy was not at all interested in what I knew, thought or said.  And more than once I have recalled that learning experience while being thankful that I learned it in my first week of naval service.

            Anchors away!

           

           

           

I Remember This

I Remember When

            Linda keeps wanting me to write about “I remember when” stories.  You see, somehow I became very old, without even trying.  And it didn’t take me very long, either.  So Linda reminded me that a clock that doesn’t run at all is still right twice a day so I must remember something interesting to share after eighty years of being mostly wrong but still having the times of rightness twice a day.  So here goes.  By the way, I still lie a lot.

            She told me to start by remembering a thing that happened while I was in grade school.  That one is easy. I think I must have been in about the second or third grade.  I know for sure that it was in the month of May, because the story is all about a May Day dance at Hall Street School.  I was so proud.  My teacher had included me along with fifteen other students to dance around the maypole as the big entertainment for the PTA celebration.  If you never lived in a small town you might be unaware as just how important such events can be.  And to be called on to be a part of the main event – well it just doesn’t get any better than that. 

            So the big day arrived.  The pole (about twelve feet high) was firmly set in the playground dirt and long multicolored ribbons were tied to the top.  Each dancer (did I mention I was one of them) was assigned one and we had been practicing for a few weeks so as to be perfect marching around the pole in perfect order, going in and out and finally winding around to form a beautiful lace-like coating around the pole.  We were then supposed to stop as one and bow, thereby leaving the parents and other excited observers applauding in wild acceptance and appreciation of their wonderful talented children..

            All went well! Well, almost all.  There was this one guy who was trying to be better than the others who was dancing and hopping at the same time when his foot found a slight low spot in the grass and he went head over heels into the dirt.  But all is well that ends well. He immediately rolled over and was back on his feet. He grabbed his ribbon, turned to the audience, smiled as if to let them know it was all a part of the show. The parents loved it.  Our teacher did not.

            I was never asked to be a part of any kind of performance again as long as I attended Hall Street School.  I truly think that is why that school is no longer in existence. Not really, but that is what my Mom and Dad always thought.  Or at least that is what they told me.  What do you think?