Down Home Again - At Least In My Head

I was born in Danville, VA and as a kid I always loved the time spent with my aunt (momma's sister) and uncle, and my extended family of cousins down there.  One summer when my father had a long stay in the hospital I spent the best part of the summer there until daddy was on his feet again.

I had just turned 15 and each cousin 'volunteered' to put me up for a week or so with their family.  It wasn't too long until I felt right at home and even learned to talk like a southern boy.  When I got back home by the end of summer, I had to learn the Maryland language again.  I suspect by the time school started that fall, I was back to normal.

When I first got married, my wife and I spent part of a vacation visiting my Danville cousins.  It was a whole lot of fun for me and the new cousins all got to meet each other, young and old.  On the drive back home, my wife mentioned that when I get with my cousins I start to talk just like they do.  It appeared that when I'd get down home again, I'd go back to the wonderful time I spent with family in Danville.  Sure came natural to me!!!

JD, here in central Maryland talking that Maryland talk.

PS - A telemarketing phone call from Atlanta caused me to revert to my down-home talk again earlier this week.  A wonderful down-home speaking lady was trying to interest me in a Suntrust Visa card.  Like most, I probably have more than enough credit cards, but I found myself relishing the time talking to this lady.  It was wonderful, even though I passed on the new Visa card.

Monday Morning email from Two-Gun Annie

Two-Gun Annie with the red hair is kind enough to send me the occasional NRA type info that comes across her computer screen.  She shared this one earlier today.

As a kid growing up here in the Big Town of Savage I was sure I knew everything there was to know about rifles and shotguns.  I had no trouble hitting a penny stuck up in the bark of a big tree down behind the house and while I wasn't great at hunting (wild animals are sneaky critters for a kid to hunt), I did enjoy it when I had the chance.

My earliest introduction to rifles/shotguns was from my Uncle John out near Chatham, Virginia.  Mom, Dad and I would spend most holidays down there with momma's sister and Uncle John.  It helped that Lucy and John had a bunch of kids and grandkids for me to play with.

I recall one particular visit when I wasn't too old yet, maybe 11 or 12, and Uncle John was out showing off his .22/.410 over-under rifle/shotgun.  It was a single shot and designed to shoot either weapon with the flick of a switch.  He had set up a makeshift target and was shooting the .22 rifle at it.  He asked if I'd like to try; and of course I was tickled as anything to get my hands on a gun even though at that time I knew little about them.

Uncle John had me squat down and shoot the .22.  I wasn't too good at first then I got so I was feeling more confident after I landed a few shots close to the middle of the target.  Since it was a single shot gun, Uncle John had to reload it after each shot.

My next shot was much louder with a hard recoil jolt to my shoulder.  It knocked me back on my butt and I had no idea what had just happened.  Turned out that unbeknownst to me Uncle John had a shotgun shell in the chamber too and when he reloaded the .22, he flicked the gun from the rifle to the shotgun.  All the relatives were watching me and laughing their ass off.

Uncle John was kind enough to explain what happened and asked if I'd like to try the shotgun some more.  Needless to say I enjoyed the next few shots much more than that first, unexpected, jolting attempt!  Uncle John and Aunt Lucy were always at the top of my favorite relative list.

JD, with a bit more gun use knowledge today in the BToS...

JD's Christmas Pup - Originally posted 12/17/08

This foto, taken in the very early 1950s, is of a happy time for me. I was an innocent youth and Cookie and I were ready for Christmas, a happy time of the year. Cookie had no idea what Christmas was, she only knew that she was getting an awful lot of attention. She was even inside the house, probably because it was too cold for her to stay outside on Washington Street in the BToS (Big Town of Savage).

As a kid, Cookie was our sole pet. She was a blessing for an only child with two working parents; she wasn't a sibling, but she certainly was a pal. It was really nice to have someone waiting with anticipation each day when I came home from school. Cookie was all excited and would run with me three houses up the street to visit grandma, all the while sniffing and chasing anything that moved, including those noisy automobiles. There weren't very many cars in the BToS back in those days, but Cookie just knew if she could bite that thing it would stop all that noise and smoke around town.

In those post war years before development, the BToS was enclosed by woods and the Little Patuxent River, and Cookie loved to go off to the woods with me. She wore herself out chasing critters and loved nothing better than cooling off by lapping up some water from the river. She'd watch those little sun perch swimming in there. I don't think she ever caught one, but it wasn't because she didn't try like the dickens. She was a persistent little pup. Those fish would flitter off as fast as she could bite the water.

I don't think Cookie knew what dog food was; if she did it was later in life. It's my belief that she ate whatever we ate, only she got her's after dinner. Table scraps were the mainstay of her diet. Wait, I do recall an occasional can of really bad looking dog food that daddy got at Storch's store up on Baltimore Street. I don't know how Cookie could eat that horrible smelling stuff, but she definitely woofed it down. I wonder if today's pups are more picky about what they eat since we've upgraded their lifestyles from outdoor dogs to indoor family members?

As I mentioned, Cookie loved to chase cars. One day she got a little too close to one of those doggone things and the rear wheel ran over her. She couldn't survive the blow and died shortly after. Cookie was about eight years old at the time. My father dug a grave down back behind the garden and Cookie was quietly laid to rest with no marker. I can't remember, but given the 'girly boy' I can be at times, I probably shed some tears. Cookie was a treasure. I loved that pup. Our little family never got another one.

There have been two other dogs in my life, Bridgette and Kipper. But I'll save their stories for another day.

JD

PS - When the foto was taken, Cookie had been with us for a couple of years and wasn't really a Christmas present for me that year. I post the foto and tell my story about Cookie for a couple of my email friends that question whether I ever really had a pet, given my current reluctance to get another. To those 'Internet Buddies', I am working toward a new pup, but it's different owning a pup today than it was 55 years ago.

Absence Makes The Heart Glow Flounder

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder" is a phrase we probably all use occasionally when it applies to a separation of beings that love each other. Typically it's applied to loving couples but can also apply to animals or more and more every day to people and animals.

"Absence makes the heart glow flounder" is a phrase that tends to apply to couples whose love for each other may not be so strong. We can all think of situations where folks are separated for various reasons for relatively short periods of time thus providing freedom not available in regular life.

These phrases can also apply to general activities or items we enjoy, especially sports and sports teams. We grew up as fans of the local sports team, maybe the Baltimore Orioles and for the past 30 years have lived in Cleveland and are now devoted fans of the Indians. We still have fond memories of the Orioles, but not the love that previously existed. Same goes for our possessions, like automobiles, trucks, motorcycles, etc.

I have only myself to look at. I grew up as a Cleveland Indians fan, probably because of the exceptional year they had in 1954, with 111 wins and only 43 losses. They didn't win the World Series, losing in 4 to the NY Giants, but they were my team. I was also a fan of the winning Cleveland Browns.

I grew up here in the Big Town of Savage, but the Washington/Baltimore area had no winning sports franchises in the early 50s, so I gravitated to other winning teams. As kids we all gravitate to winners. I still have fond memories of the '50s Indians and Browns, but in this case absence has made the "heart glow flounder" rather than making the heart grow fonder.

JD, now a NASCAR fan here in the BToS...

PS - Found the image on another blog, click image to visit.
PPS - In contrast, I find that with Dale Earnhardt, the 10 years since his death has caused absence to make my heart grow fonder.

Sitting on top of the world for 70 years

About a month ago it dawned on me that I would turn the big Seven - Oh, 70, the end of May. As of today it's here and I am 70. When I was this little urchin sitting on top of the telephone pole most people didn't make it to their 70th birthday.

Today it's a different world and folks seemingly live forever, not that I expect to, but it is kind of nice to keep on having birthdays...as someone mentioned to me, "It's much better than the alternative."

Over the past 2 weeks, I've had two people that were very close to me during my childhood die. Cousin Betty was 82 and Aunt Drucille was 91. Betty was still extremely young and vibrant and just a pleasure to be around. Unfortunately, Dru was a victim of something like Alzheimer's for the past few years. I didn't get to see either of them very frequently lately, maybe once a year. But they will be missed.

I've never been the type to obsess about age or getting old. My approach has always been to enjoy today as much as possible while at the same time maintaining some moderation in my life style. That approach has gotten me this far, so I plan to stick with it as long as I can and of course continue my daily meds. :-)

I sure hope you've enjoyed your life as much as I've enjoyed the ups and downs of mine during these first 70 years.

Still alive and kicking here in the Big Town of Savage,
JD

PS - You're right, my daddy put me up on that pole and if he did it today he'd be in the county lockup!!!

ENDEAVOUR Launch - Watching live - old school

I took some time this morning to watch the launch of Space Shuttle ENDEAVOUR. Rocket launches have become old hat to most of the world today. But, I recall back in the old days when space travel was first being planned.

I sat in front of the TV and watched live launches when they were shown. It was all so new and so amazing to this young man at the time. I was a computer software guy who always harbored the idea that I should be the one in that capsule, or that I should be the one walking on the moon.

This morning's ENDEAVOUR launch wakened a bit of that in this ol' rascal who'll be 70 later this month. Excitement was the name of the game and rockets and space travel provided it, even if it was only via TV!!!

JD; here in the Big Town of Savage

Savage Elementary - 1947 - First Grade

I'm one of those kind of guys that keeps to himself and I'm typically not a joiner. After I retired, a fella here in the BToS was telling me about the Savage Historic Society (SHS) and some of the neat things he was doing as a member. At his invitation, I attended their next Monday nite meeting, which consisted of a presentation followed by the business portion.

I have to admit that it was rather enjoyable. I signed up to join and paid my membership fee. I don't recall exactly, but that may have been about 7 years ago. I've attended very few, maybe 3, meetings since joining, but I do maintain email contact with the secretary. She lets me know when to pay my dues and sends the monthly meeting notes.

The last meeting notice I received indicated that Anne-Marie from my first grade class at the Savage Elementary School back in 1947 was going to make a presentation. The title of her presentation was "FROM THE HALLS OF SAVAGE ELEMENTARY SCHOOL TO THE SHORES OF TRIPOLI".

When I got to the meeting, Anne-Marie was there as was Donald, who was also in the same class. I hadn't seen either of them since our high school days. Quite a few other members of the SHS were there. Needless to say since I wasn't a regular, a few of us were unacquainted. Nice bunch of folks though.

I have to admit that while I was interested in hearing about Anne-Marie's tour in Libya for the State Department, I was much more interested in her stories from the Savage Elementary School days. Her presentation was very good and prompted a spirited discussion of the current Libyan situation. I'm not gonna kid you here, I pay little attention to the world outside the BToS and couldn't contribute.

Anne-Marie was kind to augment her presentation with some neat fotos and other memorabilia from the ol' Savage Elementary School. In all, it was a fun evening and nice to revisit a bit of my youth and catch up with a couple of classmates.

One of the photographs Anne-Marie shared was our first grade class foto. Fortunately I had scanned the same foto and cropped the images of Anne-Marie, Donald and myself from it. They are displayed here.

This is our first grade photograph at Savage Elementary School.
Anne-Marie from class foto.
Donald from class foto.
Dewey (BToS JD) from class foto.

Those old fotos sure are cute!!!

Ponder your old days fondly too,
JD

PS - The first comment is from Anne-Marie, which I posted for her.
PPS - Anne-Marie's displays:

Dewey - Jim - Dewey -- Name Changes with Time

The following quote was taken from a PS to a post I published in September 2009. Occasionally, I recall some neat stuff that's happened in my life and enjoy sharing it here on "Thots from the BToS".

JD

"September 14, 1959. That is the date that as a recent high school graduate I went to work for NSA at Ft. Meade as a trainee computer operator. Today is the 50 year anniversary of the only real job I ever had. I worked there until January 2004; 44+ years, when I retired. Here's a short story of one of my more vivid recollections of beginning work there.

At birth I was given the name James Dewey; James from my father and Dewey from my uncle John's middle name. My dad was called Jim or some called him Big Jim as he was a pretty good size fella back in those days at 6' 1" and around 210 lbs. They didn't want to call me Jim or Little Jim, so I was 'Dewey'.
When I was a kid I would see these three little ducks, named Huey, Dewey and Louie that were in Donald Duck cartoons. I never warmed to the idea that I had the same name as a cartoon duck. It irritated me quite a bit, but I couldn't do a thing about it. When I was in 11th grade I made an attempt to change to James. I started by signing a test paper in US History class as James rather than Dewey. The teacher, a member of the 'Odd Fellows' stood in front of the class handing out papers and read off the name on my paper, then asked, "Who is this James fella?" Needless to say I was intimidated and embarrassed, and that was the end of my name change while still in high school.

The first day I met my supervisor at NSA. He was holding my personnel information in his hand and after scanning the name he said, "I see your name is James, what do they call you, Jim?" I shook his hand before he could say anything else and said, "Yes sir, they certainly do!" Needless to say, that's the day I became Jim, not Dewey, just Jim. That was a wonderful day for me.

So basically I led a double life. At the super secret agency here in central Maryland, I was Jim while folks outside knew me as Dewey. Since retiring 5 years ago, and with the specter of those damn ducks no longer relevant, I've gone back to the name Dewey for most folks I know. I use the moniker JD for most folks that knew me from work. As you may have noted, I use JD for this blog; BToS JD (JD from the Big Town of Savage).

Things usually work themselves out if you give 'em time. :-)"

Holes in The Floor of Heaven - Steve Wariner

My momma died when I was 26 years old and she was only 52. I still miss her to this day. I bought a Steve Wariner CD "Burnin' The Roadhouse Down" maybe 10 years or so ago. I don't remember why I bought it, but it was likely for the title song which I'd heard and liked very much.

After listening to the CD several times, the song "Holes in The Floor of Heaven" really touched my feelings. I was a momma's boy and grew up with her in the local Baptist Church in the Big Town of Savage with Rev Neimiller, which was probably her second home. The more I heard that song, the more I felt sure that the expressed sentiments were definitely true.

She died 43 years ago and although I'm not a religious person today, I do still have sincere feelings for the thought that my mom is still looking down on me from time to time through the "Holes in The Floor of Heaven."

Hopefully, this video will enhance the Steve Wariner song and maybe you will appreciate my sentimental attachment.

JD

The Cat Came Back

When I was just a kid here in the Big Town of Savage, all we had was a tube-type AM radio. There were a few AM stations around the country that had very high power transmitters and after sunset when the local stations had to reduce power or stopped transmitting, those powerful AM stations came right into our AM radio.

I recall listening to a station in Wheeling, West Virginia. I believe it was WWVA (probably stood for Wheeling West Virginia). Late at night there was a guy on there named Lee Moore that played country music, which was the only kind I listened to back then.

My recollection is that he called himself the ol' "Coffee Drinking Night Hawk, Lee Moore." One song I always recall him singing was something called "The Cat Came Back". The only portion of the lyrics I could remember almost 60 years later was "thought he was a goner, but the cat came back."

For some strange reason that old lyric came into my head today and fortunately I was sitting here at my "Google Machine" (as Tony Kornheiser calls it on his WTEM radio show). So I googled ol' Lee Moore and The Cat Came Back and this video was one of the items to surface. I also ran across a neat website that chronicles the "WWVA Jamboree" which aired on Saturday nights.

Here's Lee Moore's version of "The Cat Came Back".

Enjoy,
JD

The Old Fart - 69 for a month now...time flies

Today is the first monthly anniversary of my 69th birthday. Has it really been 69 years since May 28, 1941??? Man, we weren't even officially a part of WWII at the time. Europe was in turmoil, but we were into the isolationist attitude big time. Sell 'em stuff, but don't get involved.

I have to be honest in that I had no idea there was a war going on back in those days. As you can tell from the image below, I had no idea of anything that was happening.

Now every time I see my almost 5 month old grandson, I ponder those days and what it must have been like to bring a new baby into that crazy world. I'm sure it was a lot of fun as long as things went well. Many, many children died at an early age back then, before what we call modern medicine today.

Maybe in my hometown of Danville, Virginia it was life as usual. Many folks were working over at Dan River Mills turning all that cotton into some kind of cloth. I never really got a chance to embrace life in Danville, 'cause about that time my folks relocated to the Big Town of Savage and worked in the Savage Cotton Mill. I think the pay was a bit better up here and there were more, different types of jobs, especially during the war.

I don't recall much about those days, but I do get a bit nostalgic and wish I had someone left in the family to talk to about that period and what everyone was like back then. When we're young and have old folks around, we aren't interested in the old days. When we get old, it's too late; our old folks are gone.

I do remember that my grandmother had this white stuff that was mushy like butter and she had some yellowish coloring she mixed in with it. We used it like butter and since I didn't know what butter was back then, it didn't matter much anyway. I must say that I do love butter today...

Man, that was back during the war...time sure flies don't it,
JD

PS - Here's an image of the kid sitting high on the pole. They'd lock my parents up today for doing something like that, wouldn't they.

Rainy Day in BToS, but Summertime's acomin'

Rooting thru some old images on Google yesterday and came across this one, which was always a sure sign to me that summertime's acomin'.

Warm summertime thots to you from the BToS,
JD

Merry Christmas from the BToS

This image is from the Frederick News-Post earlier this week and appears to have been taken during our recent nor'easter that inundated us with about 18" of snow here in the Big Town of Savage and a bit more 40 miles west of here in the Frederick, MD vicinity where the foto was likely taken.

It's been 4 days now since the snow stopped and while the roads are pretty clear, they still have significant slippery drainage areas each morning after the below freezing overnight temps.

Forecast is for significant rain on Christmas Day. Given the hardened snow/ice in the drainage areas of the BToS streets it's possible we'll see slight flooding before the temps warm enough to actually clear a much of the remaining (maybe 13") snow during the extended rain period.

Merry Christmas to you and yours from the white-Christmas Big Town of Savage,
JD, waiting for Christmas dinner

PS - Here's a shot from about 1951 showing Dewey (JD) with his dog Cookie.

Seasons Greetings from CBS via the BToS Blog

Two-Gun Annie in northern Virginia sent this over earlier today and I couldn't resist posting it. Annie must know that as an old retired guy here in the BToS I can truly relate to the simpler times in my life.

From 1966, do enjoy 'Seasons Greetings' from the Big Town of Savage



"Seasons Greetings" was designed for CBS in 1966 by R. O. Blechman and animated by Willis Pyle using hand-drawn pen & ink drawings. Music arranged by Arnie Black.

He Reached Down - Iris DeMent

I grew up two houses down from the Savage Baptist Church on Washington Street here in the BToS. My mom was a dedicated member of the church and I participated in Sunday School and attended many services in deference to her wishes. As many young folks do after graduating and going to work, I got away from church attendance and migrated to other more important stuff, like drag racing on Sundays!

After reviewing these events of 50 years ago, I think the one thing I enjoyed most about going to church was the music. Maybe I enjoyed it so much because I can't sing a lick by myself. I'd sing along and really enjoy it, but I couldn't 'carry a tune in a bucket' then and still can't today. Maybe that's why singing as a member of the congregation was so enjoyable.

I'm a 'late in life' fan of bluegrass, I really enjoy 'stained glass bluegrass' and other performances of gospel music, which I normally listen to on WAMU-2 HD radio.

As you can probably tell from previous posts in the past month, I've discovered Iris DeMent's music. I find her songs very refreshing and her personal and gospel songs just seem to touch me in a way that few other singers can. Her simple performances of these songs and her voice definitely strike me in a positive way. In many cases I can relate personally to her stories. I just find her music very uplifting.

Here's a fine example if you'd like to give a listen and watch her performance. Enjoy,
JD

PS - Supposed to be a sunny weekend. Do good stuff; have some fun!

Let The Mystery Be -- Iris DeMent

I find myself taking a similar position to the one described in Iris DeMent's lyrics of this song, "Let The Mystery Be." As a youth I was a pretty religious fella and was kind of strong on 'right and wrong' as taught by my parents and the Southern Baptist Church on Washington Street in the Big Town of Savage. I believe that training provided me with a sturdy base of good behavior that got me through my teenage and young adult years.

Seems the older I got the more questions arose that weren't answerable by simply using right or wrong, or that when you die you're either going to heaven or hell. Life's simpler for many people if issues are only two-sided, they take their position and either stand on one side or the other.

Seems to me that there's a whole lot of space in the middle for flexibility and discussion. I find this true for most subjects that we deal with in the world today. Give life a little space and see where it goes. I think I'll just adopt the position to "Let The Mystery Be" until there's more concrete proof that the mystery has answers.

If you're not sure what I'm talking about here, don't worry. I'm not sure I know myself. Click the ol' 'go' button on this video, enjoy the music and listen closely to the lyrics; then possibly you'll also agree to "Let The Mystery Be."

JD

Music from My Youth

I stumbled upon this video while trying to recover from a cold that's been with me for about 4 days now.

I was only about 10-12 years old living down on Washington Street here in the Big Town of Savage when this song was popular. Seemingly, at that age whatever I heard regularly became stuck in my brain. I don't know much about ol' Hank Williams other than I've been hearing his music as long as I can remember and when one of his songs plays, I try to sing along, even with my lousy singing voice.

Patsy Cline -- A Favorite in the BToS

Here's another memory from my youth; of a time when black and white TV dominated homes in America. Patsy Cline was shown many times on local shows that were beamed to the rooftop antennas on Washington Street in the BToS. My folks were raised in Danville in southern Virginia and country music was their music of choice...it was my music of choice for many, many years too.

Patsy Cline was always one of their favorites. I think the lyrics to many of her songs touched the hearts of most folks in those days.

JD

Typing on the old Royal

In 1956 I had a semester of typing at good ol' Howard High School, located 8 miles from the BToS. We used manual Royal typewriters. The Royal required use of your hands and wrists to firmly push the keys rather than just your fingers like today's electronic keyboards. I wasn't the best in the class, but I was pretty doggone good on the final speed and accuracy tests. Looking back on it, taking that semester of typing was one of the best things I ever did.

After graduating from Howard High in 1959, I went to work for a local US Government outfit as a computer operator. Back in those days our IBM 705 Data Processing Machine was a vacuum tube computer that took up a whole 20' x 20' bay. The IBM 705 had a keyboard similar to a typewriter that was basically used in our operations environment to provide corrections when a processing error occurred or to start a new procedure.

We also used keypunch machines to record data on punch cards. It translated the characters you typed into IBM 80 column punch card format. I didn't do a lot of keypunching, but having typing experience sure made the whole job a lot easier than 'hunting and pecking' the proper keys.

But the best thing that happened to me regarding typing may have been during my time in the Maryland Army National Guard (NG). Our NG company changed from the 121st Engineers that I originally joined to the 115th Infantry during the mid-60s NG restructure for Vietnam support. I was reassigned from 'engineer supply specialist' to infantryman and given a terribly heavy BAR (Browning Automatic Rifle) as my weapon. That humongous BAR about wore me out the first weekend of training in the woods at Camp A.P. Hill.

The next training weekend two weeks later, the first sergeant completed his speech to the company and then asked if anyone knew how to type...almost before he got the word 'type' out of his mouth, my hand shot up. Being 6' 4" at the time, my hand towered above any others!!! The first sergeant needed someone to work with the company clerk on all the records for the influx of draft-evading, new National Guard members. I was the new office flunky. Bye-bye BAR!!!

For the remaining 4 years of my active enlistment, I was a NG office worker keeping the company records current during the early Vietnam years. I have to admit that I was much better with the company's typewriter than I was with that BAR. The NG sure knew how to make best use of my talents. I commend them to this day.

My semester of typing in 10th grade at good ol' Howard High School prepared me with an office-worker, basic skill set (also known as typing) for the myriad positions I held over the next 44 years in the computer software business. It rescued me from that cumbersome BAR. And, it allows me to effortlessly (well almost) record my thots for this blog every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday.

Yes sir, that semester of typing on the old Royal was the best thing that ol' JD ever stumbled into. Well not the best, but pretty darn good!

JD

Nostalgia for an ol' Country Boy

You're right, JD never ran moonshine on Highway 9. I found this video over on Monte Dutton's NASCAR This Week website. Monte's a heck of a writer, currently specializing in NASCAR coverage, who's written books on NASCAR and music. He's also becoming a pretty good songwriter, so check him out!

This video brings back a whole lot of memories of really neat automobiles and drag racing fun from my youth.

JD

PS - If you're really bored (or excited), you can check out my ol' '67 Chevelle.