Emmy Lou

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              Emmy Lou
Pa always said that when Emmy Lou moved to Little Rock, she became "city-fied." And as if to prove his point, he often told the following story.

Emmy Lou had made one of her infrequent trips home, and one evening she decided to visit the out house before going to bed. She had just closed the door and seated herself on one of the two holes of the seat, when suddenly up popped a large raccoon from the other hole. Emmy Lou screened "Help!" jumped up, pushed open the door, stepped outside and fell on her face, with her pantaloons around her ankles. Rising to her feet she again screamed "Help," tried to run, and again fell down. About that time Pa heard her scream and ran out onto the porch, just in time to see her try once again to run with her pantaloons around her ankles, all the while screaming help, and her eyes wide with fear. Pa just about bust a gut laughing. I guess it was pretty funny, but the story is better the way Pa tells it.

     Aloha
     Grant  

Never, Ever Bored

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          Never Ever Bored
"What do you do with your free time?" is a question we are often asked. Tonto keeps busy with yoga and playing bridge. In addition she plays scrabble with friends on the internet, and the Sunday cross word puzzle.

As for me I am studying Hebrew (self-taught), reading, writing, cooking, and practicing my tenor ukulele. A friend recently installed an amplifier in it. When there is a feed-back squeal, Mr. Fuzzy runs away from me.

Alright, you can probably understand the ukulele, but why study Hebrew? In the seminary I attended, it was Greek that was studied. I have been around the whole circuit of Christian beliefs, from Roman Catholic to many Protestant denominations. I found them all at fault, and I wanted to get back to the very beginning. Hence, the study of Hebrew. I find it is very difficult, but also very rewarding. And along the way I am learning a lot about Israel etc. This includes jokes. He is my favorite:

A lady tourist was visiting Jerusalem, and the battery died in her travel alarm clock.  She didn't speak Hebrew, or read it. So she wandered around looking for some place that could replace the battery . After a time, she saw in the window of a shop, clocks and watches. She entered the shop and handed her clock to the man behind the counter. He said, "Madam, I don't repair clocks, I am a rabbi, I do circumcisions." She said,  "Then why all the clocks and watches in the window?" The rabbi replied, "So what should I have put in the window?"  

     Aloha
     Grant

Progress Report on MaiTai

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Progress Report Mai Tai a.k.a. Mr. Fuzzy
Getting to know you (dogs) A
Smelling feet A
Under feet A
Lifting leg and marking A
Running away with Kleenex D
Sniffing everything A
Barking at door C
Fuzzing our feet and legs A
Mai Tai is doing very well at his training class. I have to hide behind a tree so he will not look at me, instead of Tonto, who is receiving instructions from the trainer. He has received praise from two of the trainers. Recent spill of mixed vegetables in the kitchen resulted in him having his fill. He continues to bring us great joy.

      Aloha
      Grant

Under the Stars

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          Under the Stars
Come and remember with me warm summer nights. You hear the sound of footsteps outside the window of your car. Someone is heading for the concession stand. You can smell popcorn and cigarette smoke. Some few cars were arriving late and looking for a parking place. Fat speakers hung from  short steel posts, on the top of each graded hill. You were on a date, or maybe just a car full of friends. Cars had larger trunks back then, and two people could be admitted  for free, if not caught.

Adults with children dressed in their p.j.'s were frequently seen. After the movies, Mom and Dad had only to carry them into the house and put them in their beds.

It was important to place your car just so, that the screen in the distance could be seen to the best advantage. Some people brought lawn chairs and placed them in front of their car. While others were seated on chairs in the rear of a pick up truck.

It was a quiet private world inside your car. The only sound came from the bulky speaker hanging on the window. Popcorn and sodas could be purchased from the low cement block projection building located in the center of the drive in. Or, you could bring your own. I remember once when I was a junior in high school,that I dated a girl who was a junior in college. She brought along a cooler filled with "Tom Collins." I  have forgotten her name, as I am sure she has forgotten mine.

In Michigan it didn't get really dark until about nine. But the screen was often filled with ads before the main feature. I can't remember seeing any block-busters. But then, sometimes it wasn't the movie you were interested in anyway. Most of the time it was a double feature, and the movies got out real late. Cops were often on had to direct traffic as the cars left the theater.

As summer moved into fall, some drive in theaters had heaters located beside the speakers on the post. The warm air entered car by way of the window, just as the speaker did. It worked pretty well, but you were probably snuggled up anyway in order to keep warm.  

After graduating from high school, everyone went their separate ways, and I never again went to a drive in. They are all gone now, except a few that became drive in churches. Young people today will have missed that special time at the drive in movies.  I'm sure that you remember.

     Aloha
     Grant

This Bugs Me

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            This Bugs Me
I have read somewhere that a writer should write about things he knows. I know about a lot of things. I know a lot about tomatoes. I used to grow and market baskets of them. I also know a lot about Volkswagens. I think I will write about the latter.

The first VW I ever saw was in 1946, a G.I. had managed (God only knows how) to bring it back from Europe. I first thought that it was ugly as hell. Squat, with a divided rear window, and a sound that was like a chainsaw. So this was Hitler's idea of a "People's Car."  Little did I ever think in  my wildest dreams, that I would one day own three of them. And I grew to love my Bugs.

My first Bug was 1961, black, and had a sliding rubber roof, sort of an almost convertible.  No bells or whistles. Just a radio, and a speedometer (laugh). No gas gauge.  A lever stuck out from the firewall which you turned down when you were running out of gas.  This was to give you another gallon of gas.  Heater?  Ha Ha.  The heat from the engine was supposed to reach the front of the car by way of a channel under the doors.  In winter, by the time you reached your destination, the car was at last warm.  But, it was great in the winter for traction, as the engine was in the rear of the car. There was at that time an ad showing a man driving his Bug to get to his snowplow.

The engine was a four  cylinder air-cooled type, and is still used in small airplanes. You always carried a spare fan belt, as everything depended on it.

There was a book around then written by a guy who was, I think, named John Muir, called "How to Keep Your VW Alive," sub-titled, "The Manual for the Complete Idiot." And it was great. mHe told you to which wrench to use, and it made it  possible for you to to adjust the valves, and make a timing light. This was much better than having to pay a garage to do the same thing. This was very important as I was a poorly paid first year teacher. The year was 1964, and I was paid $4.500, and no benefits. Also required to chaperone dances, sell tickets to football games etc. Is it any wonder I did all the work on my car?

My high school students thought it was funny to pick up my car and place it front and rear, between two trees. This was also the time that phone booths were packed with students for a world record. They did this too with Bugs. I don't remember how many could fit, and if the windows were rolled down, or not.

Cheap to operate, and dependable, I owned two others, a red one and a yellow automatic shift.  Make it two bugs I loved, but not the yellow automatic shift. Maybe I missed rowing my way around town.

At the time I owned my 1961 Bug, a friend had bought a little Renault. There were vast differences between the two cars. Mine had an air-cooled engine, and his car had a radiator. Also, the doors of his car were not even lined or covered. It looked cheap, compared to the VW. He had to buy anti-freeze, and I didn't. I think his car was probably warmer in the winter, but I never did find out.

Old memories were brought back to me recently, when I discovered a small rally of VW's here in Ala Moana Beach Park, (which translates as "Ocean Drive," in Hawaiian). I had a grand old time with these local guys, and they said that the book I mentioned above, is still around and being used.

Bug owners are friendly people. In the old days, when two Bug owners met on the highway, they would sound a friendly "beep beep" in greeting.

These new VW's are fat, wide and nothing like their parent cars. And the worse thing of all is that their engines are not air-cooled, and are up in front!

       Aloha
       Grant

A Fighting Chance

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       This one is for Frank
         A Fighting Chance
Frank was born and raised in Philly.  Tough town, tough neighborhood.  But he never had any trouble.  He got along well enough in St. Patrick's School.  He had a few fights, but that was pretty normal.

The trouble began when he went to junior high, and met Sister Angelica. She was one mean nun. She ruled her class with a steel ruler. She applied it to those whom she felt needed discipline. And she felt that Frank needed discipline often. For his part, Frank wanted to kill Sister Angelica. But he refrained from doing so because it would put his soul in mortal danger, and he would go straight to hell. And so he suffered in silence as did the rest of his class.

Freedom from sister Angelica came when he entered the new high school. The building principal was named Father Mark. On the opening day, Frank was herded along with all the other boys into the gym. They were told to stand against the wall, while he talked to them. They had never heard such language from the mouth of a priest before.  But as he was a priest, Frank guessed it was alright. He said, "You little bastards, I don't want to have any shit from any one of you."  He went on like this for awhile, and then he called four boys, picked at random to come to him. He told the first boy to come forward, the boy did, and Father Mark knocked him down. The boy cried, and crawled away. He next pointed to Frank, who stepped forward. Again the priest also knocked him down.  Frank then quietly rose to his knees, stood upright, and, looking the priest in the face said, "Is that the best you got?" Well, that made Frank something of a hero, and Frank never again had any trouble with Father Mark. It seemed that there was some kind of a truce.

Frank's high school years had a few bumps, but he did manage to graduate. About then he decided that he would fight in some of those amateur bouts around town. He was a light heavy weight. He not only won all his fights, but he made some money too.

It was about that time he decided he would turn pro. His first bout was with a guy called "Tiny", something or other.  He was anything but tiny.  He stood over six feet tall, and had arms that reached his knees.

For the first couple of rounds, they felt  each other out.  Frank soon realized that he couldn't get inside of the tall guy's long arms to do him any harm.  And it was in the fourth round when Frank caught a right to the jaw, and kissed the canvas for a full count.

Later when Frank was healing from his loss,  he remembered an old saying, "Work smarter, not harder."  It now seemed to make sense.  Frank gave up his gloves, and became a consultant of some company.  He never again had anyone hit him in the mouth.

        Aloha
        Grant  

Flying High

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             Flying High
I understand perfectly, aircraft construction. This is because my friends and I built light, balsa wood airplanes. These airplanes were built from a kit. These kits came in all sizes, and were cheap. The kits were boxes containing several thin flat sheets of balsa wood, with the parts printed on them. There were also several thin balsa wood strips, a  wire bent into shape for a landing gear, two wood wheels, a propeller, a long rubber band, a couple sheets of tissue paper, a tube of glue, and the building plans.

You had to find some additional items. A large piece of fiber board,cardboard,or anything you could cut upon. And,a handful of straight pins, and several single-edge razor blades.

The construction proceeded as follows: The building plan was spread out, and then the printed parts were all cut out with a razor blade. The round cowling shapes that formed the shape of the plane were in different sizes. These were held in place with pins, until the glue was dry. It was difficult, exacting work. These parts had to have notches cut into them to receive the long thin strips which would be glued to the round cut shapes.The plan showed were each of these parts belonged. The long rubber band was put inside the body of the plane before all the thin strips were glued.

So much for the body. The wings and tail were tear drop shapes, again of different sizes, and were properly placed on the  plan, and glued in place.  The landing gear was glued in place.  The the two wood wheels were attached, and the nose propeller with the rubber band was hooked to the plane.  If all went right, you now had the skeleton of an airplane.  Next, tissue paper covered the body, wings, and tail of the plane. To give strength to the plane it was brushed all-over with something called "Dope." I don't know what is was, but probably some sort of shellac. But, we were not done yet.  It had to be painted. The "Dope" had stiffened the tissue to a firm, smooth surface. Sometimes the kit would contain some decals which could be used if desired.

At long last it was finished. It had taken many days of patient work. The beauty of this was that not only did it teach you patience and craftsmanship, but it kept you out of your parents' hair. It was wonderful to see your creation take wings and fly, the product of your own two hands. No snap-together parts, just balsa wood, tissue paper and glue. You could also buy some tiny aircraft engines for your plane. I once won a model plane contest, and the prize? A model plane kit.

And, as long as I am on the subject of airplanes, I want to mention  some facts that you might not know.   First, during WW11 it was thought that it would be impossible to build an airplane on an assembly line, Henry Ford proved them wrong. Wings and other parts were trucked to the Willow Run Bomber Plant, outside of Detroit, where they were fitted to the body of the planes. The bomber plant was operated every day, all day, and all the week long.  The plant employed a large number of women, as the men had gone to war.   Dwarfs bucked rivets from inside of the wings, where only they could fit. And, the astonishing fact is that when the assembly line had reached its peak, one ready to fly bomber was completed every hour!  All that was left to do was to sight the guns, and test fly the plane.  We were building bombers faster than the enemy could destroy them. And,we had the problem of training enough men to fly them.  But we should also remember that our casualty rate was 65 percent.   Each bomber carried a crew of ten men.   So when a  plane went down, you lost not only a plane, but often the entire crew too.

I want to mention that Tonto's father was a gunner on a B17, and his brother was also a gunner on a B24. Her father survived the war, but her uncle did not. His plane"Shack Rabbit," was shot down over Nuremburg.
We should all remember the men who flew into danger.
         Aloha
         Grant