Perhaps if you had grown up:
Hearing a screen door slam.
Seeing a fly swatter in your mother’s kitchen.
Not seeing a dishwasher in your mother’s kitchen.
Help your mother defrost the refrigerator.
Caught Light-in-Bugs in a jar.
Played under a street light.
Got you butt whipped with a belt or a switch
Cut grass with a push mower.
Flagged down a Trailways bus for a ride to town.
Helped your dad and grandfather slaughter a hog.
Watched you, grandmother, wring a chickens neck.
Watched your granddad smoke meat in the smokehouse.
Put playing card on your bike spokes with a clothespin.
Played pick up sticks, jacks, checkers, or Rook.
Paid $.25 for a movie ticket, popcorn, and a coke.
Watched the Movie-tone News, then a cartoon before the main feature.pped with a belt or a switch.
Ran to the clothesline because the rain was coming.
Dropped clothes pens in the bag hanging on the clothesline.
Talked on a four-way party line.
Listened to a conversation on a party line.
Was told by an adult to hang up on a party line.
Rode in a car with no seatbelts.
Listen to the Lone Ranger on the radio after you got off the school bus.
Saw you first TV at 12 years of age.
Served your country, or supported someone who did.
Started your school day with the pledge of allegiance.
Ate fish stick on Friday at school.
If you had done these things, perhaps you might understand why we stand for the National Anthem.
M Alton Headley
Guys, you know when you and the misses are headed to Golden Corral for dinner and all you have on your mind is “all the Prime Rib you can eat for $19.95,” but suddenly you snapped to reality because your knees are hitting the lower part of the dash because the driver’s seats too close. Remember your betrothed, the love of your life, the one who told you to spend the $299.00 for the memory seat that came with that red SUV, but you were too cheap? So you make the necessary adjustment as you back out of the garage.
Finally you’re ready to head to that smorgasbord of delights kinda like when you were dating except the car now has separate seats up front. What happened to the days when you two could not get close enough? As you accelerate through the light quickly changing to red downtown you realized that while you corrected the distance front to back, the seat back is forcing your no-longer-high-school-football-playing body into the steering wheel. So you hit the lean back button on your eight-way power seat so your increased girth will not rub the steering wheel.
Can we talk? I mean like man to man? You know, like brothers? Straight up? Well, brother, you may want to consider doubling up on the salad bar instead of the $19.95 Prime Rib ……. just saying.
M Alton Headley
By the mid 1940’s my father built us a new home, however the need for indoor plumbing was not seen as a necessity. Our home was located on what is now called Meadow Circle (Talladega County Rd. 95) South and west of Childersburg, Alabama at the base of Flagpole Mountain. We had running water (hand pumped) from our well some forty feet from the kitchen sink, one of our few modern conveniences.
As most families of the time we washed daily. Man did I ever hate that wash rag on my face and in my ears. However, a full bath for the most part occurred either on Friday or Saturday evening. Mother would set two kitchen chairs facing each other on which she placed a No. 2 galvanized wash tub, filling the tub with a bucket from the hand pumped faucet at the sink. (No, not the slop bucket; that one was for the hog slop. Pork chops did not come in a tray wrapped in cellophane from the grocery store in those days.) Water was heated on our wood stove with the correct amount added to the tub’s cold water to make for a very warm bath.
The order of bathing was as follows, I was first (being the youngest). Then my middle sister, oldest sister, then mother … and our father bathed last. I don’t remember if mother added hot water along the way. At that point most of us children were in bed. I am sure the water for the last two baths was not the cleanest. After the baths the water had to be transported to the back porch then thrown in the yard. My parents moved from that house after many years to their last home which I will assure all had every amenity needed. A fitting legacy to parents who never complained.
M Alton Headley
On this day forty years ago Jimmy the Greek spoke words concerning the breeding of black athletes great great grandparents (which were true) but got him fired anyway. Our President spoke the truth (however ineliquenity) a few days ago concerning some countries of the world. I would venture to say Americans of either the left, or right who have traveled to those countries, (some of which I have). If being truthful would admit the president was correct. The problem is that many people, and the vast preponderance of MSM included, have determined the truth can no longer be spoken in America. I am not sure how we as a country can address the world’s, or for that matter Americas problems if the truth is simply too awful to hear. I am sure our friends in the MSM, and the left have an answer. After all they seem to have and answer for everything, but accuse us on the right of being inartful.
M Alton Headley
How do you sell toilet paper, I mean with out being offensive? Charmin is a brand of TP manufactured by Procter & Gamble, best known for its 21-year advertising campaign of a fictional storekeeper, Mr. Whipple, (actor Dick Wilson). The name Charmin was first created in 1928 by the Hoberg Paper Company of Green Bay, Wisconsin. In 1950, Hoberg changed its name to Charmin Paper Company continuing to produce bath tissue, paper napkins, and other paper products. P&G bought the company in 1957. Originally, the manufacturer wanted to emphasize the product’s softness, but did not know how to convey that sensation on TV. The company’s advertising agency suggested that shoppers be encouraged to squeeze Charmin in the store……IT WORKED. A advertising campaign that lasted over twenty years. Mr. Whipple told customers, “Please don’t squeeze the Charmin!” in more than 500 commercials between 1964 and 1985. A cartoon bear family now advertises the softness of Charmin.
M Alton Headley
I call you Father because you were never a daddy to me. It’s been years since you died? I need to share a story I should have told you many, years ago. You weren’t a good husband to our mother. I so wanted a dad like other children spoke of, and it was really really hard as a child having you around.
Thank goodness your work carried you away from the family to other towns many Monday mornings, through Friday evenings for a number of years. Those were some of the best times of my childhood. Mother delivered a claim sweet leadership so our home went smoothly when you were gone. I was a poor student for sure, I assume my dyslexia, and bipolar-ism came from you at least that is what the experts advise. What most people know today is that these maladies are most often transferred from father to son. Being slapped in the face, and told I was stupid didn’t help.
I like other abused children (never sexually, but for sure physically, and emotionally) I learn to cope, at least to some degree, with a bipolar Father. Most of the time your rants served little to help anyone but yourself. Usually I tried to get away but that was not easy as your storms passed through our home. Your rants hurt the family, but not you. I had no ideas as to the many situations you deemed you had been aggrieved. As it usually turned out you had misplaced a tool yourself, or other situations. Being screamed at which seemed to help you, but sure did nothing for me.
Mother, Bettye, and Sandra usually ran to a safe place, I suppose to lessen the sound as you ranted, through the house and yard. It was frightening for me a child, and yes I shook inside. Am I happy you are no longer around, the answer is yes. Why, because I know you can never hurt another person like you hurt me again.
I am also Bipolar but I have tried very hard to not hurt people, as you did. I hope you made it to heaven, because hell is not a place I would wish even on you.
Michael Alton Headley
I remember when you could pull into Parsons Texaco in Childersburg, Alabama and receive the following items. Your gas pumped, oil, water, and tires checked, windshield washed and a road map for free. A car wash was two dollars, and they put tire black on your tires. I miss the ding ding as you pulled under the porte-cochère. The gas was $.25 a gallon. Not sure if those were good old days, but they were for sure different.
M Alton Headley