by Neville G. Martin
She was a good looking young lady and with a little makeup you could say she was beautiful. She played soccer, on a boys soccer team. She fished and hunted, loved life and played in the school band. There were girl scout outings and camping trips, In a way she was a tough young lady, perhaps she was a tomboy.
In Searcy Jr. High she tried out for cheerleader and settled to play trumpet in the band. Her mother had played trombone, first chair in her school band. Her father was not inclined to play musical things, except a couple of songs on the harmonica. They were both very proud of her.
Spring band competition came along and it included a trip to Little Rock in the band bus. After the competition, after the awards, there was the dark bus ride home. Boys and girls, happy, teasing, and daring in the back of the bus.
She accepted the challenge, she tasted some whisky, then they all partook of some. Some just sipped, some just tasted, and some a little more. A pint didn't go very far among those in the back of the bus.
Monday morning rumors, the Principal wanted to know. Nobody was talking. The Principal wanted to know, only the truth. Promises were made, we only want to know who was involved. Promises were made, nothing is going to happen. Promises were made, nothing will happen. So she told him , what he didn't know.
But, something did happen, promises were broken, she was removed from the school band and received a two week suspension from school just before semester finals. Some, including the boy that brought the pint, transferred to other schools. Others were connected, very connected; it pays to be related to members of the school board.
After it was all said and done, she was asked by her father, "What did you learn from this experience?" Without hesitation she replied, "I will never tell the truth again".
She is married now. She has her college degree and two daughters to raise. She is protective, very protective. A teacher or principle will rue the day that one of her daughters are not treated in an honest way.
One day when she is a Grandmother she will tell her grandchildren about her band trip and they will say, "Grandma you didn't do that did you?"
Monday, September 7, 2009
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
The Rat
by Neville G. Martin
This is a short story about my Grandfather Elzie B. Gregory and the time that a rather large rat ran up his pant leg.
It seems he was quietly sitting in his favorite chair, in his living room listening to the radio when the event occurred.
Grandpa didn't get excited, yell, jump, or cuss as you would expect.
He simply lite up his pipe and began to blow smoke down the inside of his bib overalls.
Grandpa puffed on the pipe and blew smoke for what seemed an hour before the rat had all of the smoke he could stand. I believe it was Prince Albert pipe tobacco.
The rat began backing down Grandpa's leg until he was below the knee, then it turned around and scurried away out through the bottom of the pant leg.
After the rat was long gone is when Grandpa began to yell, jump, dance, and cuss.
This is a short story about my Grandfather Elzie B. Gregory and the time that a rather large rat ran up his pant leg.
It seems he was quietly sitting in his favorite chair, in his living room listening to the radio when the event occurred.
Grandpa didn't get excited, yell, jump, or cuss as you would expect.
He simply lite up his pipe and began to blow smoke down the inside of his bib overalls.
Grandpa puffed on the pipe and blew smoke for what seemed an hour before the rat had all of the smoke he could stand. I believe it was Prince Albert pipe tobacco.
The rat began backing down Grandpa's leg until he was below the knee, then it turned around and scurried away out through the bottom of the pant leg.
After the rat was long gone is when Grandpa began to yell, jump, dance, and cuss.
Monday, August 31, 2009
The Swan of Magness
by Neville G. Martin
O'l fog is rollin across Magness in the early morn, like slow syrup on a hot pancake.
It won't be long before the Swan join the Canadians for a winter rest near Wilburn.
Far away from the deep snow, ice and sleet.
Started out with three as guest for the winter a decade or so ago.
Last year a lad of nine counted at least a hundred sixty three.
Takes a lot of deer corn to keep hungry Swan in vittles on Magness Lake.
Come see, some frosty morn soon, after your pancakes are consumed.
And don't forget the deer corn, as the hungry Swan are bout due for first landing.
O'l fog is rollin across Magness in the early morn, like slow syrup on a hot pancake.
It won't be long before the Swan join the Canadians for a winter rest near Wilburn.
Far away from the deep snow, ice and sleet.
Started out with three as guest for the winter a decade or so ago.
Last year a lad of nine counted at least a hundred sixty three.
Takes a lot of deer corn to keep hungry Swan in vittles on Magness Lake.
Come see, some frosty morn soon, after your pancakes are consumed.
And don't forget the deer corn, as the hungry Swan are bout due for first landing.
The Hardware Store
by Neville G. Martin
With a big smile he said, "May I help you".
"Yes, I need a can of flat black spray paint, a 3/8 inch dowel rod, 6 bolts - 1/2 inch by 3 inch, and a 10 inch file".
He proceeded to lead me through the isles where I picked out the paint, the bolts, and the dowel rod. He was back at the cash register ringing up my items. " That will be ".
"Wait a minute" I said " we didn't get the file".
"We don't carry files". "You will have to go to Staples or Office Depot for that".
I said "This is a hardware store isn't it".
"Yes it is, and we do not carry files".
I said, "you don't understand, I need a 10 inch bastard file".
"We do not carry files and I do not appreciate your language".
Not to give up easy, I asked, "Where are your axes"?
When we arrived at the axes, I said, " I need something to sharpen one of these".
He then lead me to the sharpening stones.
Next to the stones were the files. I found the drawer I needed and asked what these things were called.
He read the label and sheepishly said, "These are 10 inch bastard files".
"No kidding", I said.
With a big smile he said, "May I help you".
"Yes, I need a can of flat black spray paint, a 3/8 inch dowel rod, 6 bolts - 1/2 inch by 3 inch, and a 10 inch file".
He proceeded to lead me through the isles where I picked out the paint, the bolts, and the dowel rod. He was back at the cash register ringing up my items. " That will be ".
"Wait a minute" I said " we didn't get the file".
"We don't carry files". "You will have to go to Staples or Office Depot for that".
I said "This is a hardware store isn't it".
"Yes it is, and we do not carry files".
I said, "you don't understand, I need a 10 inch bastard file".
"We do not carry files and I do not appreciate your language".
Not to give up easy, I asked, "Where are your axes"?
When we arrived at the axes, I said, " I need something to sharpen one of these".
He then lead me to the sharpening stones.
Next to the stones were the files. I found the drawer I needed and asked what these things were called.
He read the label and sheepishly said, "These are 10 inch bastard files".
"No kidding", I said.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Second Best
by Neville G. Martin
Girl Scout cookie time will be here again before you know it.
It's the time when your neighborhood will be inundated with little Brownies knocking on your door saying " you don't want to buy any cookies, Do You?"
You will not be able to go to the mall or a Wal-Mart without being attacked by hordes of Girl Scouts shouting "these are the best" or "no, these are the best".
Put them in their place. Tell them you will buy some, but you do not want the best. Tell them you want the second best.
You will be met with strange silence and deep thought.
It will not take long, one of them will soon speak up with "these are pretty good".
That is the box you buy.
Support the Scouts, because the ACLU will not.
Girl Scout cookie time will be here again before you know it.
It's the time when your neighborhood will be inundated with little Brownies knocking on your door saying " you don't want to buy any cookies, Do You?"
You will not be able to go to the mall or a Wal-Mart without being attacked by hordes of Girl Scouts shouting "these are the best" or "no, these are the best".
Put them in their place. Tell them you will buy some, but you do not want the best. Tell them you want the second best.
You will be met with strange silence and deep thought.
It will not take long, one of them will soon speak up with "these are pretty good".
That is the box you buy.
Support the Scouts, because the ACLU will not.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Numbers Racket
I have lived in a state that does not have gambling, except for the horse track in Hot Springs, the dog track at West Memphis and shortly the lottery state wide. The horse track and dog track doesn't really count as gambling because they were already here before gambling started, whatever that means.
Gambling is gambling. You put your money down and you lose. The house wins and the State wins. Rare is the gambler that wins, that actually gets ahead and stays ahead.
The lottery has been proposed and voted down a couple of times in this state, but it was like gambling. The lottery people kept proposing until they won. They only needed to win once and they won. The losses didn't count. That one win and we have a lottery.
The lottery used to be called the numbers racket, and it was not legal. People were sent to jail for running a numbers racket. Now the numbers racket is run by the states. That makes it legal for some reason, but it is still the numbers racket.
The lottery is coming to our state later this September and perhaps it should properly be called the Arkansas Numbers Racket.
Gambling is gambling. You put your money down and you lose. The house wins and the State wins. Rare is the gambler that wins, that actually gets ahead and stays ahead.
The lottery has been proposed and voted down a couple of times in this state, but it was like gambling. The lottery people kept proposing until they won. They only needed to win once and they won. The losses didn't count. That one win and we have a lottery.
The lottery used to be called the numbers racket, and it was not legal. People were sent to jail for running a numbers racket. Now the numbers racket is run by the states. That makes it legal for some reason, but it is still the numbers racket.
The lottery is coming to our state later this September and perhaps it should properly be called the Arkansas Numbers Racket.
Friday, August 7, 2009
The Headache
All of us have had a headache or have heard the expression, "I have a headache". Someone saying " I have a headache" does not convey any real sense of severity or pain. " I have a bad headache, also doesn't adequately describe the problem. In today's language "bad" can mean "good". Headaches can be used as excuses by some, just to get out of doing things.
I have found a more accurate description of headaches can be made by utilizing colors to describe most common headaches. Warning: These should not be used by men that are color blind.
A Light Pink Headache is one in which you think you feel a headache, but can forget it if you have something to do. This type of headache does not require medication.
A Blue Headache is one in which you definitely feel it. It really does not require medication and you can still work without distraction.
A Brown Headache is one in which you feel it all the time, it can be taken care of with two aspirins. Often slows you down a little. The cause is usually mild stress at work or someone at home.
A Green Headache means you are getting or have a cold. May be used as an excuse to take a day off work. Requires medication.
A Dark Green Headache means you are in severe pain, will require medication and three days bed rest. Very severe head colds, cramps, or the flu accompanies it. You are sick.
A Black Headache means it is almost too late. Many people have not survived a black headache. May require intensive hospitalization and treatment. Usually associated with severe beatings or muggings.
I have found a more accurate description of headaches can be made by utilizing colors to describe most common headaches. Warning: These should not be used by men that are color blind.
A Light Pink Headache is one in which you think you feel a headache, but can forget it if you have something to do. This type of headache does not require medication.
A Blue Headache is one in which you definitely feel it. It really does not require medication and you can still work without distraction.
A Brown Headache is one in which you feel it all the time, it can be taken care of with two aspirins. Often slows you down a little. The cause is usually mild stress at work or someone at home.
A Green Headache means you are getting or have a cold. May be used as an excuse to take a day off work. Requires medication.
A Dark Green Headache means you are in severe pain, will require medication and three days bed rest. Very severe head colds, cramps, or the flu accompanies it. You are sick.
A Black Headache means it is almost too late. Many people have not survived a black headache. May require intensive hospitalization and treatment. Usually associated with severe beatings or muggings.
Monday, August 3, 2009
The Other Side of Nowhere
One day in November, I checked into the Dunes Motel in Valentine, Nebraska.
The Fur Trappers Association had just checked out. They had their convention in room 114 and a few of the nearby rooms. Somebody had spilled something somewhere. You could smell it. The motel owners could smell it and they want to clean it up, but don't know exactly where it is. They think it is in or near room 114, maybe.
The Fur Trappers met here for two days of discussions, demo's and a little drinking. I don't know exactly what they were demonstrating, but there is a strong lingering odor of skunk in the air. Or perhaps the women of the Fur Trappers Association have a strong attraction for "wild things perfume".
This year it is predicted to be a very cold winter and all the furry critters are expected to grow a good quality of furry coats.
I think the reason the Fur Trappers met in Valentine is they perhaps are not welcome in the big cities of Omaha, Lincoln or North Platte. After this year they are not welcome in Valentine either.
Next year they may have to meet in an RV park. At least then the smell will have a place to vent and not linger around.
Some things I noticed upon entering this territory is the short windmills, every driveway has a windsock and there was a sign on the highway that said you are entering the middle of nowhere.
For those of you that don't know (city folk), windmills are used out west to pump drinking water out of the ground to water the livestock. Livestock in this part of Nebraska generally means cows.
There are 2000 people that live in Valentine and 800,000 plus cattle. Cattle need a lot of water to drink. Windmills need a lot of wind to pump the water.
Nebraska has a lot of wind, close to the ground, it's blowing.
I guess the windsock in the driveway is to tell you when it isn't blowing, which isn't often.
Yes, Valentine Nebraska really is on the other side of the middle of nowhere.
The Fur Trappers Association had just checked out. They had their convention in room 114 and a few of the nearby rooms. Somebody had spilled something somewhere. You could smell it. The motel owners could smell it and they want to clean it up, but don't know exactly where it is. They think it is in or near room 114, maybe.
The Fur Trappers met here for two days of discussions, demo's and a little drinking. I don't know exactly what they were demonstrating, but there is a strong lingering odor of skunk in the air. Or perhaps the women of the Fur Trappers Association have a strong attraction for "wild things perfume".
This year it is predicted to be a very cold winter and all the furry critters are expected to grow a good quality of furry coats.
I think the reason the Fur Trappers met in Valentine is they perhaps are not welcome in the big cities of Omaha, Lincoln or North Platte. After this year they are not welcome in Valentine either.
Next year they may have to meet in an RV park. At least then the smell will have a place to vent and not linger around.
Some things I noticed upon entering this territory is the short windmills, every driveway has a windsock and there was a sign on the highway that said you are entering the middle of nowhere.
For those of you that don't know (city folk), windmills are used out west to pump drinking water out of the ground to water the livestock. Livestock in this part of Nebraska generally means cows.
There are 2000 people that live in Valentine and 800,000 plus cattle. Cattle need a lot of water to drink. Windmills need a lot of wind to pump the water.
Nebraska has a lot of wind, close to the ground, it's blowing.
I guess the windsock in the driveway is to tell you when it isn't blowing, which isn't often.
Yes, Valentine Nebraska really is on the other side of the middle of nowhere.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Mountaintop Memory by Neville G. Martin
It was a long hard pull getting to the top of the mountain, a two hour train ride to the little picturesque Swiss village.
Upon leaving the train I heard the announcement from the loudspeakers in German, Swiss, French and broken English.
" The seats were going to be taken out of the passenger cars. The train would be used
to haul the fresh milk to the city down in the valley. Something about the milk tram
being broken and they were going to have to use the passenger train. The train would
return for us in about five hours."
I watched the smoothness of the workers removing the seats and the beginning of the loading of the milk cans onto the now converted passenger train and I was thinking to myself, perhaps the broken tram has been broken for some time. The end of World War Two would be a good guess.
After a short walk around the little quaint Swiss village I put my camera and a newly purchased schnitzel sandwich in my backpack and headed out of the village for a mountaintop hike.
Just walking along a trail admiring the scenery, at least two miles away from any form of civilization, then it happened. Music.
Music, yes musical chimes, everywhere around me. I was surrounded and engulfed with beautiful chimes. It was like Angels were ringing bells and chimes in anticipation of a coming announcement from heaven.
Where is the music coming from? I slipped toward the far edge of the trail and looked over into the beautiful green valley below. Then, I smiled and thought this is like heaven. It is like Angels playing the ringing chimes.
The milk cows on both sides of the valley, each with her own bell with it's own sound were awakening from a mid-morning rest and they began to graze among the luscious mountain grass. With each bite of grass and with each step a bell would ring.
If God can speak through a donkey, He can surely use cows to play heavenly music.
I left that mountaintop with tears in my eyes and the sound of heaven in my heart.
Some day I will return to the mountaintop, to listen to the Angels play heavenly music; and walk with the Lord along the mountain trail to look upon the beauty He has made.
Upon leaving the train I heard the announcement from the loudspeakers in German, Swiss, French and broken English.
" The seats were going to be taken out of the passenger cars. The train would be used
to haul the fresh milk to the city down in the valley. Something about the milk tram
being broken and they were going to have to use the passenger train. The train would
return for us in about five hours."
I watched the smoothness of the workers removing the seats and the beginning of the loading of the milk cans onto the now converted passenger train and I was thinking to myself, perhaps the broken tram has been broken for some time. The end of World War Two would be a good guess.
After a short walk around the little quaint Swiss village I put my camera and a newly purchased schnitzel sandwich in my backpack and headed out of the village for a mountaintop hike.
Just walking along a trail admiring the scenery, at least two miles away from any form of civilization, then it happened. Music.
Music, yes musical chimes, everywhere around me. I was surrounded and engulfed with beautiful chimes. It was like Angels were ringing bells and chimes in anticipation of a coming announcement from heaven.
Where is the music coming from? I slipped toward the far edge of the trail and looked over into the beautiful green valley below. Then, I smiled and thought this is like heaven. It is like Angels playing the ringing chimes.
The milk cows on both sides of the valley, each with her own bell with it's own sound were awakening from a mid-morning rest and they began to graze among the luscious mountain grass. With each bite of grass and with each step a bell would ring.
If God can speak through a donkey, He can surely use cows to play heavenly music.
I left that mountaintop with tears in my eyes and the sound of heaven in my heart.
Some day I will return to the mountaintop, to listen to the Angels play heavenly music; and walk with the Lord along the mountain trail to look upon the beauty He has made.
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