TGIF

Well, that's another week under my belt to add to the other 3,091 I have under my belt already. Tonight Lori will be here like always, TGFL Thank God For Lori. Speaking of God, here's a link my old pals Linky & Dinky sent me today in an email. It's to a web site with a bunch of letters written by kids to God. Enjoy and have a great weekend.

PS
I know I will. My son is staying at his girl friends tonight and that means the Nudist Rules are in effect at my place. Anyone want to come over and hang out? ;-)

Flashback Rerun HNT

About a week ago I received a telephone call from my mom's doctor in Michigan. She requested a family meeting in Michigan to discuss my mom's rapidly progressing dementia and the beginning of the onset of Alzheimer. My mom is forgetting to take her medicine and sometimes even eat. The doctor thinks it's time to get someone to visit her daily to make sure she takes her meds and prepare her a meal or two. My brother and I will be flying there probably next week.

That call brought back many memories, so last Sunday I posted a story about the years after my mom and dad were divorced until 1963 when my mom sent me to live with my dad in New York. I decided that today I'd relive a few more memories of my childhood and repost a story from last year about some carefree days when I was seven.

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I lived in Florida from about the age of 4 1/2 until half way through the 9th grade in 1963. My father was a lineman by trade and my mother was a housewife. When the work got scare for my father in one place, we'd move to where ever he could find work. My mom told me that sometimes my father would come home on a Friday tell her to pack. We had to move right away and be in a new place on Sunday, so he could start a new job Monday morning.

I remember living in these places; St. Petersburg, Clearwater, Boynton Beach, Starke, Hypoluxo, Jacksonville. I'm sure there were more, but that's all I can remember. We lived in three different places in Jacksonville alone.

In 1955 we moved from St. Petersburg to Clearwater. Here we are doing what we did practically every weekend, fishing. We didn't have very much, but one thing my father made sure of, was that we always had a boat.








In Clearwater, we lived in an apartment above the garage behind our landlords house. I loved that place. The house was across the street from a park with a playground. The best part about living there was sliding down the banister of the stairs that went up to the apartment.

These are my father's parents. If you guessed they are Polish, your right. This shot of us was taken on Christmas Eve in 1955. We always opened our gift on Christmas Eve.

My grand parents lived near us no matter where we moved. We'd move and not long after that they moved too. My father had a 'love/hate' relationship with my grand father. Every once in a while they would have a big argument, and my grand parents would move away. But it wasn't very long before they'd move back near us again. I loved having them around so much. My cousin John from Pennsylvania told me that he almost never saw our grand parents, so I guess I was lucky.

I carried that air rifle around with me everywhere and almost never took off that holster.










I think my grandfather loved fishing as much as my father did. I remember the day they brought this tarpon home. It was the biggest fish I seen up to that point. All the neighbors came over to take a look at it.





"I love you mommy."

This shot was taken during Christmas 1956. Miraculously, we still lived in the same apartment. I really have a lot of great memories of living here. Like the time in third grade I was arrested for breaking and entering. Well, not arrested exactly, but my friend and I were taken out of school by the police and reprimanded to our parents custody.

But that's story for another day.

Happy HNT Y'all!

The Bride and Groom's First Dance

Remember that first dance the bride and groom dance at the reception as a married couple? It's usually so tender and sweet and sometimes it even brings a tear to your eye. This video is of a bride and groom's first dance and will certainly bring a tear to your eye, but not because it's tender and sweet.

Click on the picture to watch the video.

Life wasn't always this good.

My mom struggled to raise three kids after my dad and her were divorced. I was about 12 at the time. My mom was a house wife that hadn't worked in 20 years, so of course her secretarial skills were obsolete. She eventually got a job working in a hotel office in Jacksonville for $60 a week. It was the early 60s and that $60 paid for little more than rent and bus fare for her to get to work. That didn't leave much left for anything else.

We ate a lot of bacon and eggs, grits, pancakes and cottage cheese with pineapple for dinner. She'd fry the bacon and then break the eggs over the bacon, which made for a very greasy meal. My brother still doesn't like eating eggs to this day because of that. When there wasn't enough money to go to the laundromat, our clothes didn't get washed, so my "clean" clothes came from the bottom of the laundry pile. I guess they somehow were cleaner than the ones at the top of the pile. When the kerosene ran out and there was no heat, we put old newspapers between the blanket and sheet. My brother read that newspaper was an insulator and we would be warmer. You couldn't prove that by me, so often slept in my clothes.

We lived in one of the poorer areas of Jacksonville on the second floor of a two story house not too far from the Gator Bowl and right down the block from a bridge over the St Johns river. There was a church on the corner across the street and a small grocery store on the far corner. I lived at the "white" end of the block and the "colored" lived at the other. That block was a "neutral" block, but neither the whites or coloreds dared cross the line and enter the other's territory or risk getting their ass kicked or worse. I never did cross the line.

I walked the couple of miles to school, Andrew Jackson Senior High School. Past the Chock Full of Nuts coffee plant and other plants whose names I've long since forgotten. Andrew Jackson was an inner city school with a Georgia clay play ground that we played tackle football on. Officially we played touch football, but the coached didn't stop us when we played tackle. I was on the play ground the day the word came that JFK had been shot. During math class, the principal made the announcement over the intercom that JFK had died and he was dismissing us for the day. The old man that taught us math broke down and cried. Many people cried that day.

I hung with the tough crowd at Andrew Jackson. Not because I was a tough kid, but because I was a skinny Yankee kid that would have gotten my ass kicked if I didn't. I was on the fast track to no good. I drank, smoked, broke into lockers at school and acted tougher than I really was. I wouldn't listen to my mom and pretty much did what I wanted to do. My older brother was in the navy, so he couldn't do anything about it either. Wednesday evening, midway thought the 9th grade, my mom told me to pack my bags, because Friday morning I was coming to work with her and she was putting me on a Greyhound bus for New York to live with my father and step mother. She explained how much they all worried about me and thought that living with my dad was best for me. Of course they were right.

For The Boobie Lovers Out There

Nothing much to report. My son went to his new store to check it out, talk to the store manager and introduce himself to the other department mangers and the people working in his department. His department does 1/3 the business his present store does, so this will seem like a vacation for him. It is also a great place to be when it's your first management position.

Now for something to help you get through the weekend.

THERE MUST BE 99 words for mammary glands.
(Warning: Loud audio, PG-13)



I got the link from Linky & Dinky.

Fantasy HNT

Lori has a fantasy too.

BIG NEWS!!!!!!!

My son Brian has been promoted to Produce Manager in the Islandia Stop & Shop Supermarket. He starts at the new store on May 5th. He's getting a $10.50 raise to $25.50/hour. Considering he will also be working Sundays at time and a half, he'll be making more money than I ever did. I'm not jealous, but very, very proud of him and happy that he'll soon be able to afford to move out and get his own place. Not that I'm pushing him mind you, but it will be great to be able to walk around naked all the time and snuggle in any room I want, at anytime I want and not worry about him catching me.