Monthly Archives: January 2023

LIVE IN THE PRESENT, LEARN FROM THE PAST

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I moved to the city ten days ago. I grew up in rural North Carolina on a farm. My father grew soybeans, corn, and, my favorite sweet potatoes. He made a good living, but it was back-breaking work. We all helped out when it was time to harvest the crops. I made a promise to myself that when I graduated from high school, I was going to move to the city up North.

18th Century farm

And I kept that promise to myself. Halfway through my senior year in high school, I started surfing the web job market in the Philadelphia area. Luckily, I had taken as many courses in high school and some night adult classes to prepare me for office work. I spent the months before graduation sending out resumes to companies that I researched on Google. I didn’t get any responses for the first couple of weeks, and I began to get a little nervous. I was just about to give up when I received a text and then an email from Colonia Pennsylvania Preservation in Newton Square. It turned out that it was an eighteenth-century living history farm. I hoped I wasn’t making a mistake, but I was desperate. I wanted to move up north and away from the rural south.

I called the number they sent me and ask if I could speak to the person in charge of hiring new employees. I waited a few minutes, and then a man who identified himself as Mr. Charles Daley said he was so pleased that I had responded to his email. He believed I would be perfect for the position that he was trying to fill. I said, really? Because I don’t remember sending a resume to your company. He said my resume had been forwarded to him by a close friend who thought I would be a perfect fit. Farm North Carolina

“Really, what position is it? He said, “it is the assistant Program Manager for a Historic Farm in Gradyville, Pa.” I hadn’t heard of Gradyville, Pa. But, then I really didn’t know any other city except Philadelphia. He said, “it‘s about a two-hour drive to Philly from Gradyville to Philadelphia. He knew it must seem like a long trek, but I would have a vehicle at my disposal and would have two days a week off during the week since they were busiest on the weekends.

I said, “well, honestly, Mr. Daley, I really do not want to do any farm work, I’ve been doing it most of my life, and I was looking forward to a different kind of challenge. He said, “well this will be a new challenge I believe you have the skill set and the knowledge for this position. “You will be the assistant Farm Manager, but most of your time will be teaching students about active participation in historic farm practices and skills that made 18th-century life possible.”

“Really?” And you think that I will be up to that challenge? I have only been out of school for one year, and I hope to work in an office.”

“ You will be working in an office at times and in the field with students. You will be coordinating weekend programs and events for children, visitors, and volunteers, including weekly field trips and summer camps. You will be overseeing the planting and weeding harvesting of crops. And teach the continuation of heritage variety seeds. In addition, maintaining the necessary supply of feed and bedding for the farm animals.”

“Wow, that sounds like a huge undertaking, and you believe I’m up to that?”

I spoke to all your references, and they gave you glowing reports. You will also be working in an outreach program in the Philadelphia area seeking new students, schools, and donations. So, I can safely say you will have every opportunity to visit the city. I would like to assure you that you will be starting off with a full benefits package and thirty- five thousand dollars for the first Year. And up to forty-thousand the following year. “

“I said, “wow, I’m impressed, but perhaps I should come to The Farm and get a better idea of what I would be doing from day to day. And you would have the opportunity to meet me in person and see if I am the right person for this opportunity.”

“Well, how about you come here for a week, and then you will have a clearer picture of what your position would entail and the quality of people who work here? How about that? Of course, we will pay for your travel expenses. Why don’t you take a day or two to think about it and then call me back at this same number and give me your decision.”

“Alright, I will have to look into taking a train when I have that information, I will let you know, and hopefully, you can arrange for someone to come and pick me up at the train station.”

“Yes, certainly, I can do that. Text me when you know when and where we should pick you up. It’s been great talking to you. Talk to you soon, Elizabeth. Good Bye for now.”

Three days later, I made my decision. I have to admit that my parents put a lot of pressure on me to accept the job. Although, they weren’t crazy about me living so far away from the farm. The more I thought about it, the more excited I got. I have to admit I still had doubts about having that much responsibility. On the other hand, I had a great deal of responsibility working on our family farm my entire life. I started helping out when I entered grade school. And my responsibility increased the older I got. And perhaps fate had stepped into my path with this opportunity, and I decided I would be a fool to let it pass me by.

I notified Mr. Daley that I decided to take his job offer, and I sent him the schedule for the train that I would be taking from Raleigh to the Gradyville area. And then I found out that I could get a train station near Gradyville. And when and where I could be picked up. For the entire week before I left for my new life, I was torn between fear and excitement. I was having a lot of difficulty falling asleep at night.

But, before I knew it, there were only two days before my departure date arrived. Although my parents were happy, I was hired for such a prestigious position, and I could tell it was hard for them to say goodbye. Especially my mother, who cried for three days before I left. They took me to the train and watched me board, and then they stood there until my train began to depart and waved at the train long after they could no longer see me.

I was amazed at how fast the train traveled and how quickly I arrived in the North East. What I could see of the passing landscape was not that different than North Carolina. But as we got closer to Grandyville, I could see that I had once again arrived in a rural area. I knew that I had planned to try and live in the city, and that didn’t happen. But, I also knew that with a short train ride, I could visit Philadelphia and, maybe one day, New York City.

When the train finally arrived, I saw two people standing at the train station holding up a sign that said, “Welcome Elizabeth to Colonial Pennsylvania Plantation. And there was a young man holding it and waving it frantically, which made me laugh. I waited until the train came to a complete stop before I stood up and grabbed my bags from under my seat. And then, I had to wait patiently for everyone else on the train to do the same. We slowly progressed up the train aisle and waited until it was our turn to step off the train. And I could begin my new life. I have to admit I was excited, especially when I saw that I wasn’t going to be the only young person working at the farm.

I walked up to the people waiting for me, and the woman that was standing next to the young man said, “Welcome, Elizabeth. We are so happy that you decided to take our job offer. You are the perfect candidate for the job. You have your whole lifetime of experience in farm life in a rural area, and I know you will bring that expertise to our clients.”

“Thank you, I hope I will be able to fulfill all your needs. I have to say I was surprised that you would consider hiring me since I haven’t really had any other work experience outside of working on our farm. “Well, your teachers all gave you an A +. And they assured us that you were mature for your age and a hard worker who was always on top of things and strove to surpass any expectations that they had. By the way, I’m Jimmy Daley, and this is Ms. Christine Simmons. So, let’s be on our way. Is that all your belongings? “It’s all I brought with me on the train, and I’m having the rest of my things shipped here. They should arrive by the end of the week. I look forward to seeing the farm.

The time seemed to fly by as Elizabeth watched the landscape go by. As they got closer to the farm, she started to feel more at home. She knew it would take a while for her to adapt to her new home and live away from her parents and the home she had lived her whole life. She started to feel excited and less fearful. She was looking forward to the challenges that she would have to meet in her new job. She had every intention of doing everything within her power to succeed. But still, she kept her fingers crossed that all would go well.

And then she heard Jimmy Daley say, “well, here we are. That didn’t take that long, did it? I hope we meet your expectations and that you will be happy here. If there is ever a problem, you know you can come to me, and we will work it out. Don’t be bashful.”

And that was the beginning of my new life. And it truly was a new beginning. I worked hard every day, but it was certainly a learning process. I interacted with people from all over the country. People who were interested in how farmers ran their farms in the eighteenth century. People knew there was a lot to learn from the past that could be assimilated into present-day farms. The past became my present, and I looked forward to it. Every morning I awoke, I was excited about what that day would bring me. And every day, I learned something new. I planned my first trip to Philadelphia, and Jimmy Daley invited himself along. I learned that life is what you make of it.

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THE STORIES OF MY LIFE

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retirement home

I have considered writing the story of my life for a long time. But something held me back. There are a lot of reasons why people, myself included, procrastinate. We all have our own reasons for putting things off. You could be lacking in self-confidence and unable to start things for fear of failure. Or you could be lazy and have difficulty finishing things.

But my justification for procrastinating is not any of those. My reason is that since I was a young child, I loved telling people stories of my daily experiences. As a child, most of my experiences were similar to other children my age. So, at some point, at a subconscious level, I decided that I would embellish my stories. You know, tweak it here, tweak it there. Make it a little more interesting, more spellbinding. Take the mundane experience up a notch. That’s not so bad. I never considered it to be lying. I considered it to be similar to creative writing. I never thought of it as a lie. Or if it was a lie, it was only a white lie. In other words a harmless lie. But, my ultimate goal was to entertain people by telling them interesting and funny stories to make them laugh.

I told most of my “stories” to my family at dinnertime. At first, my parents seemed to believe every word that spilled out of my mouth. My siblings were not quite so easily led astray. They would sit at the dinner table quietly with a look of disbelief on their faces. And at the end of one of my tales, they would either laugh or say something to the effect of, “what you got to be kidding? And they would start laughing. My father would say, “oh brother, you must have really kissed that blarney stone. That was a good one, and then he laughed and laughed and laughed. Which means he thought I was exaggerating.

Well, to be perfectly honest, I did have a tendency to exaggerate. But, then, doesn’t every writer have that proclivity? And I didn’t just share my stories at the dinner table., I told them to my friends, their parents, all our neighbors, and strangers on the street waiting for the bus. I loved a captive audience. I would start by saying, “hello, how are you. And then I would say, “oh, you know what happened to me?” And off I would go.

Sometimes, I really got carried away with myself and didn’t know when to stop. And the people would eventually try to escape by saying, “oh, here comes my bus, nice talking to you, little girl or I have to be going. I’ll be late for work. One older man that waited on the corner of Main Street at the bus stop always said the same thing. “ I have to go. I have a dentist’s appointment. I’m having a tooth pulled.” The day he said that for the last time that I talked to him, I said, “I’m surprised you have any teeth left to get pulled out.” I knew I had met my match that day, and I didn’t stop and regale him with any of my stories after that. I just waved as I rode by on my second-hand bike.

And then, one day, when I came home, we all sat down to eat dinner. All my siblings were there for once. I was thrilled I rarely had the opportuning to tell a story to both my parents and all of my siblings at once. I sat quietly for a few minutes. I was trying to decide what story I should tell everyone. We were all sitting quietly, waiting for our Irish Stew to cool down. My mother cooked it all day because she wanted it to be thoroughly cooked and hot when she served it. We could all tell it was scalding hot because the steam was rising up over our bowls in unison. So, as I sat there contemplating the tale I would tell, it came to me in a flash.

After everyone settled down and started eating dinner, I said, “guess what I saw today walking down Main Street. My oldest sister said, “ “oh no, here she goes again, with her stories. Does she really think any of us believe these stories. She has a wild imagination, that’s for sure. My father looked at me and said, “go ahead and tell the story. What or who did you see?”

I looked at my father and said, “well, I was walking past that vegetable store next to the bar across the street from the school parking lot. And I saw a woman who was wearing a long, red velvet coat. And a big hat on top of her head with a chicken sitting on it. And it was clucking away. And she had a basket over her arm, and it was full of chicken eggs.”

Everyone at the dinner table stared at me, and then suddenly, they all started laughing. I looked at my mother and father, and then I started crying really loud. “my brother said, well, that’s the biggest whopper she ever told. That even beats the story she told about the old man. She said that he had a bowtie around his forehead and wasn’t wearing any shoes or socks. And he got off the bus at main street and went into the bakery, and came out with a huge box of donuts.”

My father said, “OK, stop laughing. She has an active imagination and likes telling stories. She isn’t lying.”

My mother said, “ stop laughing and finish your dinner. She looked at me with a weird expression on her face. And that made me start crying even louder. Then I got up and ran out the run to the bathroom I didn’t come out until I didn’t hear any of them talking anymore, and it sounded like dinner was over.

But that incident didn’t deter me from telling my stories. I just decided that I would have to broaden my audience beyond people waiting at the bus stop and my family at dinner. So, I thought about it for a long, long time. And then it came to me. I would start visiting the old people’s homes and telling them stories. I was certain that they would love having a young visitor who spent time with them and told them some tall tales. So, the first thing the next day, I rode my bike down Route 73 and across the highway to visit the old people.

I parked my bike outside the front of the building and walked through the front door to a desk where a lady was sitting. She said, “ can I help you, young lady?” I looked at her, and then I looked all around, and I didn’t see any ladies, so I figured she must be talking to me. I had never been called a young lady before, and I was either called by my name or “hey, kid.”

“I would like to visit the old people every day and tell them stories. They’re very good stories. And I know they would love to hear them.”

She looked at me and the biggest smile I ever saw spread across her face. “When would you like to start?”

“Well, there’s no time like the present. That’s what my mother always says.” She laughed out loud after I said that. Just wait a few moments while I call one of the aides to come up front and show you around. And you can decide if you want to talk to one person at a time or everyone at the same time.”

“Well, I think I’ll tell one person at a time. And see how it goes over. And if they all like my stories, I’’ tell them all at once. What do you say?”

I say, ‘outstanding.” And then she called someone’s name over the loudspeaker. And I stood at the desk and looked around until a woman came over to me and said, “Hello, my name is Miss Hartman. I heard that you would like to tell our residents some stories. What is your name?” They are going to love that. Some of them hardly have any family or friends that come to visit them. And they rarely see young people.”

“ Oh, everyone calls me Sissy. Why don’t their families come to visit them?”

“Well, for the most part, they have outlived their mates and family members, or sometimes they live far away or don’t take the time to visit them. They get lonely. However, we have a lot of activities for them. They miss seeing people from the outside.”

“Outside.” Aren’t they allowed to go outside?”

“Oh, of course, they can go outside. I meant that they seldom come to visit them. So, it just so happens that most of the people are in the dining room eating lunch. And so, off we went to a big room with a lot of round tables spread out across the whole place. And there were four people at each table, and there was a lot of chatter from all the people talking. I noticed it was mostly old ladies and an old man here or there.

Then she said, “let’s go up to the front of the room, and I’ll make an announcement about you and how you like to tell stories to people. You can come up and stand next to me, and then I will introduce you to them. How’s that?” I was surprised that she wanted my opinion, “ I said, that’s great.” She smiled down at me. Let’s do it. So, I followed her up to the front of the room, and she called out,” Ladies and gentlemen, I have an announcement. Can you quiet down for just a moment, please?”

They all quieted down. You could have heard a pin drop. This young lady, whose name is Sissy, is going to start coming here and telling us some stories. She is a storyteller. And she said she could tell stories to everyone at once or come to your rooms and tell one person at a time. What do you think?”

And then, all of a sudden, everyone was clapping and stamping their feet, and someone yelled out, “tell a story now. Please.”

Miss Hartman looked at me with a big smile on her face, “Well, Sissy, it looks like you have a captive audience. Do you have a story you would like to tell right now?”

“Yes, I have a story about my neighbor, Mrs. Collins. She lives down the street from me, two doors down. She loves cats, and she has a long fenced-in area in her backyard that runs the length from front to back. And the cats have a door in the basement that they can go through to the cat run. She has over thirty cats. I like to visit them almost every day. They like to be scratched and talked to. I know all their names. And she has a big white dog with black spots, and his name is Rudy. He barks a lot.

And sometimes, one of her cats escapes out of the pen and gets in a big fight with the neighbor’s cats. They roll around and scream at one another so fast that you can’t even see them clearly. So, they all have scars on them from fighting with other cats, mostly Strottles, who loves to fight. I stopped for a moment to catch my breath. And all the people started clapping and yelling, “tell another one.”

So, I said, “sure, well, let me think. Oh, I know I’ll tell you about what happened to me last Halloween.” And they all started clapping again. Well, first of all, my mother made me a costume. And it was a hot dog, with a roll with mustard on it. And I was in the Halloween parade. At first, everyone laughed at my costume, but I won the first prize because it was such an original costume. Since most of the other kids were dressed as ghosts or witches, a princess, or pirates. Then after the parade, we all started going around town with our pillowcases and knocking on everyone’s door and saying,” trick or treat.”

And I stayed out really late and ate so much candy I thought I might get sick. When my pillowcase was so full, I took it home and emptied it and then went out again on the other end of town and got it filled up again.’

Everyone started clapping and laughing. One old guy got up and said, “Hey, I used to do the same thing, and a lot of other people said the same thing. Al, the old ladies, and the men started talking to one another and telling them about their Halloween experiences, and everyone was laughing and smiling at each other.

Ms. Hart looked over at me at said, Sissy, I think that it would be just wonderful if you came all the time and talked to our residents. It looks like you helped bring back some of their good childhood memories and made them happy. Would you like to come and visit them?”

“Yes, I would love that. Especially visiting the old people that don’t get any visitors.”

Then Miss Hartman said, “may I have your attention, please? Would anyone like to have Sissy come back again and visit? And then everyone stood up and clapped their hands. And that was the beginning of me coming to visit the old people and realizing that they were just like me, only with wrinkles and gray hair. And making new friends every time I went to visit them. And it was one of the best experiences of my life.

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And The Winner Is

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The view out of the kitchen window is our front yard and across the street is his elderly neighbor, Mrs. McDonald. She is weeding her garden. Her garden is amazing in the Spring. Right now, it is a rainbow of different colored tulips. She orders the bulbs from Holland.

Cherry Hill Race Track, New Jersey

Henry watches her with a look of admiration on his face. She has lived alone in her house for many years. Her husband died unexpectedly over twenty years ago. After her husband’s death, Mrs. McDonald realized that she didn’t have enough money to survive on her own. So, she began renting out the second floor of her house. She never asks for help from anyone. And somehow, she had managed to keep body and soul together.

Occasionally Henry would cross the street and knock at her door. “Hello, Mrs. McDonald. I have some free time this morning, and I was wondering if I could help you in some way?” She would always respond, ” no, no, I’m fine.” And then Henry would say, “how about if I fix your fence, there are a couple of loose boards. And while I’m out there, I’ll tighten that gutter that’s coming off and take your trash out to the curb.” She would say, “Thank you, Henry. You’re a saint.” Henry would laugh and say, “I am the least saintly man you’ll ever meet. Have no doubt. There won’t be any place in heaven for me.”

Henry is a complicated man. Few people realize that because he kept his feelings close to the vest. He volunteers at the nearby church to maintain the pews in the church and does other minor repairs. But the fact is Henry doesn’t attend any church services. And although he wasn’t a member of any church, he’s fascinated by the religious beliefs of all cultures and reads about them in-depth in his free time. His current interest is the ancient Chinese beliefs of Taoism and Daoism. And yet when Henry goes to the vegetable store to buy vegetables, he calls the owner China-man. He’s been going to the same shop for years and never asks the man his name.

Henry works the night shift and sleeps during the days, except on his days off. On his days off, he does the food shopping or works on projects in his basement. On other days he spends at the racetrack making bets on the horses and talking to all his friends at the track. When he can’t go to the track, he calls his bookie up and makes bets on the phone. If he wins any money on his gambling, he doesn’t share that information with his wife. And he plays cards for money. His family has never met any of Henry’s friends, and he doesn’t talk about them at home. If his wife knows about his activities, she never brings it up. It would do little good because Henry is a man that doesn’t ask permission to do anything.

The fact is that Henry has two separate lives, one with his family and one with his friends and his fellow workers. Henry works for the bus company. They refer to him as Smiley. His family rarely sees a smile cross his face.

Occasionally Henry works part-time at an auto supply store within walking distance of his home on his days off. Once upon a time, in 1929, Henry and a friend of his started an auto repair business. Unfortunately, this was at the height of the depression, and it went out of business. Henry was a perfect fit for the position of running the auto parts store. Most of the people in town know him because they frequented the J. M Auto repair store. And they know Henry is knowledgeable about car repair. He’s friendly and talkative during his working hours.

But when he comes home, he is often silent. And spends his time reading the newspaper and watching the news, and TV shows, mostly Westerns. His family knows better than to interrupt him. Cody Henry’s dog lies on the living room floor next to Henry’s chair. And Henry pets him from his nose to his tail the entire time.

On Henry’s workdays, he sleeps during the day, and his wife wakes him up to eat his dinner before he goes to work at 4 PM. Sometimes he works the four to twelve shift, and sometimes he has to work the midnight to eight AM. His family is not allowed to make noise during those days that he’s sleeping. Woe to anyone that wakes up the sleeping bear.

Even though Henry doesn’t spend a great deal of his time with his family, he makes a strong impact on each member of his family. He expects everyone to work hard and do their best. He is a perfectionist.

One fine day Henry came home, and he had a big smile on his face. He burst into the kitchen and said, “a photograph that I took at the racetrack is going to be published in the Courier Post. And there’s a cash prize. And I’m going to take the entire family out for dinner.” It was actually two pictures. The first picture was of all the people standing and sitting in the stands watching the race take off. And the second picture was of the people tearing up all their bets that lost and throwing them in the air.

Henry’s family listened to his announcement with their mouths wide open because they had never gone out to dinner before. The following weekend everyone met up at the restaurant, and Henry said, “order whatever dinner you like. It’s on me. Everyone looked at him and at each other. And there was a smile on all of their faces.

The following Sunday, everyone was amazed to see their father’s photograph on the front page of the Courier-Post newspaper. Henry was smiling from ear to ear. And they all gave him a round of applause. It was a day that the family would never forget. The day their father smiled from ear to ear.

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HATS ON AND ON AND ON TO INFINITY

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It’s just another ordinary day. I wasn’t expecting anything unusual to happen. My alarm rings at 7:47 am, right on the dot. I dangle my legs over the side of the bed and let them hang there for a bit to get the circulation back.

Cowboy Hats by Paul Br751

I start making the bed, and as I get out of bed, I straighten the sheets and then the Cowboy comforter. I smile, just looking at that bedspread. I can’t believe how lucky I was to find it on eBay. I’ve looked for one for twenty years. I owned one when I was a kid, but my mother gave it away when I was sixteen. She said I was too old for a cowboy bedspread. Can you imagine? Too grown-up for cowboys, ridiculous.

I walk the twenty-seven steps to my bathroom and look at myself in the mirror. I take off my hat and look at the top of my head that clearly has less hair this morning than it did yesterday. I sigh. Oh well, what can you do? I get out my mustache kit. I comb it straight down and then trim each hair one at a time. I comb it seven times I try to be vigilant about the length and the shape.

You just can’t let yourself go to hell, right? I decided tonight I would touch up the gray a little. Not all of it, of course, I like to look my best, but no one’s going to believe that someone that is sixty-seven doesn’t have some gray hair in his stache. I jump into the shower and wash and rinse myself seven times. I put on my clothes and look in the mirror. Not bad, I think.

I pull up my bamboo socks, you wouldn’t believe how comfortable they are, and your feet can breathe. And the Piece De Resistance is my hand-made vintage Lee Miller boots. They cost a pretty penny but believe me, they were worth it. They are hand-stitched with red hearts and inlaid white patches. I  feel like a million bucks.

This makes it even more difficult for me to understand why I can’t find a woman to keep me company in the sunset of my years. After all, I’m not bad-looking, have some money in the bank and own a home with no mortgage. What more could any woman want? Plus, I’m very, very neat, and a dam good cook to boot.

I set the table for two, I live alone, but I’m optimistic. I take two steps to the right and then two steps back. And take my seat as I eat my bowl of Peanut Butter Captain Crunch. I consider where I might purchase my next hat. My plan is to buy a Brick Cowboy Hat, which is similar to a cattleman cowboy hat but has a squarer crown. I also have to pick up my Gambler Cowboy hat because I left it at the hat shop to be blocked. It‘s a little too big for my head now that I have less hair. So, I’m having it resized.

I wash and rinse the cups and bowls twenty-seven times and put them away. Today is the third day of the week in the third week of the month, so it’s time to go out and buy a new cowboy hat. I decide to shop at my old standby Cowtown Cowboy Outfitters. I received an email informing me that they received some new hats just last week. And luckily, Zane Western Apparel is only about a quarter of a mile from Cowtown. And that is where my Gambler Hat is being blocked. What a great day this is going to be.

As I head towards Cowtown, I decide that while I’m buying my new hat, I’ll peruse the flea market. And then enjoy barbeque ribs for lunch. I realize that I’m humming my favorite tune. “Whoopie Yippie e. Hurrah.”

I see the sign for Cowtown, and my heart starts beating a little faster, “Yippee Ky O Ky Yea.” I yell at the top of my voice.

I disembark from my 1965 Shelby-Made Mustang. I step back three steps and sidestep five and take a long look at my baby. It’s cherry red and pristine. I love it like I loved my mother. It’s 10:45 am. I take a deep breath and stare at the Cowtown Cowboy. It’s one of my favorite icons of all time.

The cowboy had a lariat in his hand, but people kept trying to swing from it. So, they took off the lariat. I decided to peruse the flea market. I enjoy looking through the now worn and somewhat tattered stalls. Why? You ask. It’s probably just a bunch of Chinese imports. Nothing is made in America anymore. Because it is part of my tradition, and that is reason enough for me.

I pick up a genuine replica of a Colt 45. I’m not a gun enthusiast, but it’s part of the Cowboy tradition. Still, I put it down and kept walking. And then I see in the distance a woman, a goddess, really. She’s wearing full cowgirl tradition. She has on amazing boots and tight blue jeans with a red flannel shirt and a matching red scarf. And the Piece de ’resistance, a creamy white Stetson hat.

I nonchalantly walk toward the table where she is standing. It’s a table covered in bright neck scarves. I casually glance at a sky-blue one and pick it up and feel the texture, and put it in the light to get a better look. She looks over at me and smiles. I look at her, and I notice she has the most astonishing blue eyes. I almost gasp out loud. I smile and say, “that scarf would look great on you. It’s the exact color of your eyes.

She glances at me, takes off the scarf, and says, “thanks, that’s a good choice.” I want to continue the conversation. But as usual, this is where I usually get tongue-tied. I continue, anyway. “Say, I was going to get some bar-b-que ribs for lunch. Would you be interested in joining me?”

“Lunch, sure. I guess that would be nice. I’m getting a little bit hungry.”  We head on over to Dutch Country Barbeque. She stops along the way and looks at tables at the wares. We arrive at the restaurant. A somewhat loud but friendly woman yells out. “Find a seat and sit down, folks. I’ll be right there.”

So, she has a seat, and then I take two steps to the right and two to the left and sit down. She gives me a funny look. I sit down and begin to move the salt and pepper into the right position. And then move the barbeque sauces next to each other. I take out a clean hand wipe and wipe the table down. I get another funny look. I begin to feel that uh-oh feeling. That I get when I notice people think I’m weird. But I don’t know what it is that I’m doing wrong.

“Well, I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Robert Leroy Cassidy. But everyone calls me Butch. May I ask your name?”

“My name is Sue Ellen Bassett. I own a small ranch about twenty miles south of here. I raise and train horses for the Rodeo here. Wait a minute, did you tell me your name was Butch Cassidy?”

“Well, yes, is that a problem?”

“No, it’s just you know Butch Cassidy was an outlaw. Are you a descendant or something?”

“No, I had my name legally changed to Butch Cassidy when I was thirty. He was kind of a hero to me growing up.”

“A hero, but was an outlaw?’

“Well, yes, technically, I guess that’s true. He lived by the code of the old west. It was a different time.  People lived by different rules. You know, live by the gun, die by the gun.” I watched her face carefully as I related this information to her.

She starts clearing her throat. It looks like she’s going to make a run for it. “Wait, I know this sounds crazy, but I’m not crazy. I have a thing for the old west and the gunslingers back then. That’s all. I’m not an outlaw. I‘m a retired insurance salesman from Texas. By the way, what’s your name?” I see her face relax a little.

“My name is Etta Thompson. Do you come to Cowtown very often?

“Well, about once a month if I’m picking up a new hat.”

“Oh, that’s interesting. Do you collect hats?”

I smile. I think ok, and she doesn’t seem to think that’s odd. And so, I continue.” Well, yes, I do. I collect cowboy hats. And other kinds of Western paraphernalia. But my main interest is hats.”

“Well. Everyone has hobbies, and collecting hats seems a harmless enough activity. I enjoy collecting brass bells. I have about five hundred. I had more, but I sold some of them on eBay recently because I was running out of room in my house.”

“Oh, how did you start collecting bells?”

“I go to estate sales because I enjoy looking at older homes. I started to collect bells, so I had a reason to keep going to the sales. Basically, I’m curious about how other people live and the things they accumulate over a lifetime. People are fascinating to me.”

“Well, I can’t say that I’m drawn to that many people or that I  like to talk to most people. There are very few people that I’m attracted to. I mean to feel a connection “ I feel my face getting red. Can you imagine still blushing when you’re over sixty years old?

“That’s alright, and I know what you mean.”

At that point, the waitress comes over. “So, what can I get you to drink? Do you need the menus, or do you know what you want?”

“Well, I would like a sweet tea and the lunch special barbeque.”

“Me too.”, Butch says and blushes.

After the food arrives, they both dig in and don’t really say anything until they finish eating. Butch feels comfortable with Etta, a rare occurrence. They both sigh, push their plates away and sigh simultaneously. Then they both chuckle at the same time. “That was good, says Etta.”

“Delicious as usual,” says Butch.

“Well, what are your plans for the rest of the afternoon, Butch?”

“First, I’m going to pick up a hat I’m having blocked, and then I’m going to Zane Apparel and purchase a Gambler Hat that I’ve wanted to buy for a long time.’

“That sounds like fun?”

“Would you like to come along?”

“I would love that, but I’m meeting with some guys about a horse they want me to train. I would love to get together again. In fact, I would like to invite you to come over and see my ranch. I’m really proud of it.”

As Butch starts to rise out of his chair, he lays down a twenty-dollar bill and a tip. And he says I would enjoy that very much. Any day in particular?”

“How about on Sunday afternoon, it’s the only day I don’t have a lot of work to do on the ranch, and the weather is supposed to be spectacular. We could take a ride.”

“Take a ride? I don’t really have a great deal of experience riding, But I would love to give it a try.” Butch is secretly amazed at his own words. Not to mention that he didn’t even do the two-step when he arose from the chair or clean the whole table and stack the dishes. A big smile crosses his face.

“Fantastic. Here are my card and cell number. How about around 12:30 pm? I’m a pretty good cook, if I do say so myself. I’ll make something special for us to eat.”

“Wow, I mean great, I look forward to it. I’ve had a great day. I look forward to seeing you on Sunday.”

They walk side by side out the door. Butch has never felt more alive and has a bounce to his step that he didn’t know existed before. As he is about to say goodbye, Eta leans in and kisses him on the cheek. I’ll see you then, Butch; I look forward to it.”

“Me too, Eta. I look forward to it. See you Sunday.”

As he starts walking away, he says, “Hell, maybe I’ll get two new hats.”

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TODAY IS THE FIRST DAY OF THE REST OF YOUR LIFE

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I met someone so unique and so special. She changed me for the better. And it all began with her smile.

I met her by chance, really. If I had arrived at the park an hour earlier or an hour later, our paths might never have crossed. I recently moved to the area and didn’t know a soul. I had been unemployed for several months. And then finally, finally, I received a call asking if I was still interested in a job I had applied for two months before. 

I barely remember applying for the job. I could paper the walls with all the rejection letters I received for my job applications. Anyway, I think this job has something to do with selling high-risk auto insurance. Not my dream job, of course, but when you’re desperate and need to pay your rent and keep body and soul together, you can’t afford to be that picky.

The interview is scheduled for today at ten o’clock sharp. They told me not to come too early or late because they had interviews scheduled back to back. I decided it would be better to arrive early and wait than to arrive late and miss out on my job interview.

I had to take public transportation to get to the office for the job interview. My car broke down several weeks ago. It turned out that the transmission needed to be replaced. I don’t have the money in hand, nor did I have a credit card that isn’t maxed out.

I took the bus across town that would bring me closest to my destination. As I arrived,i t started to drizzle. I glanced at my watch and realized I was a half-hour early for my appointment. I didn’t bring my umbrella, so I just pulled my jacket hood up over my head.

As I stepped down from the bus, I noticed a park bench that was situated under a large flowering tree and thought it might offer some protection from the rain until it was time for my interview.

I walked across the grass towards the tree, and I noticed there was someone about to sit down on the bench. The rain started coming down harder, and I picked up my pace and ran toward the bench.

I was out of breath by the time I arrived and more than a little damp. I plopped down on the bench and took a deep breath. I kept thinking, why, oh, why do I have such bad luck?

Apparently, I said it out loud without realizing it, and the girl sitting next to me turned toward me and said, “Hello, my name is April. How are you today?”

I was somewhat taken aback by her appearance at first. She had straight brown hair, parted in the middle, with bangs high above her eyebrows. Her eyes looked somewhat unusual. They were tilted up somewhat. At first, I thought she might be Asian. But I couldn’t put my finger on just what made her face so unusual.

I’m not the most socially outgoing person, and ordinarily, I don’t feel comfortable talking to strangers. But there was something about her face, her smile that is so welcoming, so endearing that I couldn’t imagine not answering her. She seems so open, so innocent somehow. Although I can see now as  I‘m looking at her more closely, she isn’t a child at all but a young adult. She has narrow shoulders. Her hands are small, almost like a child’s, and folded in her lap. And I can see that she’s petite, less than five feet tall.

She smiles again, a sweet smile. The smile reaches her eyes. I smile back at her. Her smile is contagious. I can’t remember the last time I smiled. I have been so distracted by my unemployment and lack of funds in the last months.

I have always been told I was reticent. In other words, I’m not the type of person that starts having conversations with people I don’t know. I realize now that’s probably the reason I haven’t made any friends since I moved here.

I say, “hello, April, my name is Jeanie.” At first, I was so shocked by the fact that I’d spoken to her that I laughed out loud. And then she laughs too. Then, we were both laughing at what I didn’t know.

She says, “I have an umbrella.” And she picks up her umbrella that had been resting next to her feet. “Would you like to share it with me?”

“Really? Yes, I really would. I have a job interview across the street in about a half-hour.  I forgot my umbrella, and I really don’t want to go in there soaking wet.”

She smiles again and moves closer to me so I can share her umbrella. I hear her humming under her breath. It sounds like When April Showers Bring May Flowers. I can’t remember all the lyrics, but I find myself humming along with her.

She looks over at me and says, “I hope you get the job.”

“Thank you, I hope I do too. I really need it.:

She says, “I will keep my fingers crossed for you.”

I smile at her again. I can’t remember the last time anyone said that to me. Probably when I was a kid. In fact, there’s something childlike about her. As if she hadn’t been tainted by the thousand negative experiences we all have as we grow from children to adults.

I look over at her, and I can hear her still humming quietly to herself as she looks around the park. I look in the direction she’s staring, and I realize she’s watching three kids about eight or nine years old. They’re swinging on the swings and going up and down the sliding board over and over again. They keep yelling out “yey” every time they slide down the sliding board.

I can see her mouthing “yey” when the girls yell. She seems to be enjoying it almost as much as they do. I watch her in wonder and think, who is this young woman?

After about fifteen minutes of watching the kids, I realize I better be on my way to my interview. I stand up and say,” April, I want to say thank you for sharing your umbrella with me. I enjoyed meeting you so much.”

“Oh, do you have to go?”

“Well, April, I have to go on that job interview I was talking about earlier. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck, Jeanie. I  know for sure you’ll get that job.”

I headed toward my interview with a lighter heart than I had arrived and sat down on the bench in the park. I walk across the street to the office building through the swinging doors and up to the receptionist’s desk.

“Hello, my name is Jeanie Haskell. I have an appointment with Mr. Peabody for a job interview.”

“Oh, yes, Ms. Haskell, I see a note here. It says you are to go straight to his office. His office is number 254. Just take the elevator up to the second floor and make a right and walk down the hall until you see office number 254.”

“Thanks so much. Wish me luck. I’m applying for a job.”

She looks up at me and smiles. Good luck Ms. Haskell. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

I wave at her and smile and walk toward the elevator across the room. As I walk over there, I start thinking, what in the world is going on with me? Wish me luck.

And then I think, well, she was so friendly to me, maybe because I talked to her like she’s a person just like I am. Everyone wants to be treated with respect and kindness. In the past, I rarely talked to people unless I absolutely had to. I was always afraid that they would ignore me or reject me. Maybe I’m the one that has to change how I interact with people I meet.

I arrive on the second floor without any incident. I’ve always been somewhat frightened by elevators. I hate the closed space and the possibility that it might fall and crash, and I’ll be killed. And then I started laughing because even if it fell, it would only go to the first floor or maybe the basement, and I wouldn’t die.

The elevator doors open after the bell rings, and I step out and look from right to left. I see an office marked 254 to my right and walk over to it. I take a deep breath and open the door. I walk over to the receptionist and say, “Good afternoon, my name is Jeanie Haskell. I have an appointment with Mr. Peabody.”

“Yes, we’re expecting you. You’re right on time. Do you have your resume with you?”

“Yes, I have it right here.” And I take it out of my purse and hand it to her.

“Well, Miss Haskell, have a seat it will just be a few minutes.”

“Thank you.” And then I sit down across the room from her desk. I take a deep breath. And I say to myself, so far, so good. At least the waiting room isn’t packed with twenty other people applying for the same job.

About five minutes later, the receptionist called out my name. “Ms. Haskell, Mr. Peabody will see you now.”

I walk up to Mr. Peabody’s door, and as I’m about to open it, I turn around and say, “thank you, Miss Turner.” I noticed her nameplate sitting on her desk.

“Good luck, Ms. Haskell.”
I knock quietly on the door. And I hear a deep male voice call out, “Come right in.”

I take a deep breath and quietly pull the door open. There’s a thirty-something man sitting at his desk, which is piled high with folders. “Good morning. You must be Ms. Haskell, have a seat.”

“So, thank you for coming in today. I see here in your resume that you have some experience that might be beneficial to my business. However, there has been a recent gap in your work history. Would you care to explain that?”

“Well, my mother was sick, and I had to take considerable time off to take care of her. And then I couldn’t find a job. Well, that’s not entirely true, I found quite a few openings, but there was so much competition for the jobs. I had that big employment gap, and that made it more difficult to get hired.”

“Yes, I can see how that would and does happen. Do you feel that you are able to be a reliable employee now? Or do you think you will still be missing work because of your mother’s health issues?”

“No, I don’t. My mother passed away. And that is when I began searching for a job full-time. But I haven’t had any luck. I promise you I will be a reliable and trustworthy employee. I’m a hard worker.”

“Yes, I can see that all your past employers said you had been a highly reliable and diligent worker. Have you ever sold high-risk auto insurance.? I don’t recall seeing that on your resume.”

“No, but I have had jobs with customer service and sales. And I don’t think that selling high-risk auto insurance would be that different from my past work experience.”

“I agree. Are you able to start working immediately, say this coming Monday?”

“Yes, I can start today if you like.”

“No, I think Monday would be just fine. Would you ask Ms. Turner to give you the forms that you will need to fill out before you leave? I look forward to working with you, Ms. Haskell. I’ll see you at 9 am sharp on Monday.”

As I left his office, I sighed with relief. I somehow feel lighter and less weighed down by worry. When I arrived at Ms. Turner’s desk, she said,” Well, Congratulations, Ms. Haskell. “I had a good feeling about you. Here’s the paperwork. You can sit over at that desk and fill out the papers and then bring them back to me.”

“Thank you, Ms. Turner. I’ll take care of that right now.”

After I finished the paperwork, I brought it back to Ms. Turner with a big smile on my face. Thanks so much. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Thank you too. By the way, my name is Kerry. I look forward to it.”

“See you then, Kerry.”

I take the elevator down to the first floor. Honestly, I feel twenty pounds lighter. As I walk across the street, I decide to talk to the young woman sitting on the bench. She waved at me as I came closer to her.

“Hi!” she says with that smile of hers that goes from ear to ear.

“Hello, I just wanted to let you know that I got the job. She smiles again and says, “I was about to eat my lunch. I have two peanut butter sandwiches; would you like one?”

“Well, I didn’t have any breakfast. Are you sure?”

“Yes, I always bring an extra one for a friend, just in case. You can sit here with me and eat it.”

“I would love that, April. I haven’t had lunch with a friend for a long time. Do you eat here often?”

“Well, yes, I do. I come here for about an hour every day until it’s time for me to take the bus home. Here’s your sandwich, and you can share my drink too.”

I take the sandwich gratefully. ” Thanks, April. So tell me about yourself. How far do you live from here?”

I take the 424 bus until I get to my street, and then I get off and walk a block to the second building on the left, number 63 Harrington St.”

“Oh, this sandwich is great. I don’t remember the last time I had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I used to eat it all the time when I was a kid. Thanks, April. Maybe we could eat together again sometime. I’ll bring lunch. What do you say?”
“I say, great. I like cheese too, or peanut butter and jelly.”

“Well, how about next Monday at noontime? When do I have my lunch break?”

“Yes, I would like that. It’s good to make a new friend.”

“Yes, yes, it is April, and today was my lucky day when I met you and got a new job. I think you are my lucky charm from now on. I’ll see you then.”

As I walk toward my bus stop, I turn around and wave at April. She’s watching the kids again. I wave at her and smile. I realize she’s the one who put a smile back on my face. I look forward to spending more time with her. I find myself humming When April Showers Bring May flowers and smiling from ear to ear.

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YOU GOT IT MADE IN THE SHADE

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Maple Shade, New Jersey, is the name of the small town where I was lucky enough to spend my childhood until I moved to my own apartment in Haddonfield, New Jersey when I turned twenty-one. 

Maple Shade has a long history dating back to 1672. It was originally an agricultural community. And was called Chester Township. It wasn’t until 1947 that the Carberry family moved there in what was still primarily a rural township but one that was growing and becoming more modern.

By the time I arrived, it was a thriving small town with its own downtown where there were several banks, a post office, a police station, and its own fire company. The downtown consisted of a bakery, Ben Frankling 5&10, a Rexall Drug Store, and an A & P Grocery store, and we had our own Doctor’s office consisting of Dr. Hartman and Dr. Bukley. And my favorite haunt, The Ice Cream Stand.

As I look back over my life, I realize that I was lucky to grow up in Maple Shade in the early 1950s. I doubt I could have had a more idyllic childhood anywhere else. The fact that I was a part of the baby boomer generation played a great part in it. My generation was given a tremendous amount of freedom by our parents. When we weren’t in school, we were allowed to go and come as we pleased. As long as we came home in time for lunch and dinner. My parents never asked me where I was going before I went out for the day. And when I returned, they didn’t really inquire what I had gotten up to or whose house I went to. 

In addition to the downtown section of Maple Shade, there were Tar Pits. Where my friends and I would spend hours exploring and digging and looking for treasures, of course, my friends nor I would tell our parents what we were up to, which made it all the more fun for us.

And then there was the Roxy Theater on Main Street, where we kids could go to see the latest movies for twenty-five cents on Saturday morning. I can remember so clearly the Saturday that my friends and I attended a movie at the Roxy Theater called the Village of the Dammed. About these eerie blond-headed and blue-eyed children with extraordinary intelligence that were targeted by the government because they feared they were aliens who might take over the planet. It was a scary movie for that time period. And then, when my friends and I left the theater after the movie, all the kids started pointing at me and saying I was one of these creepy children, as it just so happened that I had blond hair and blue eyes.

In addition to the theater, Maple Shade provided a bus ride back and forth to a roller rink in Riverside. A town about a twenty-minute bus ride away. Where we could use roller skate all day for fifty cents, and that included the skate rental. I spent a great deal of my time falling down and getting up. And saving myself by slamming into the wall. I wasn’t a very good skater, but I loved it all the same.

The Forth of July was the best day of the year for kids. First, there was a parade that went down Main Street all the way up to the border of Lenola. We would all decorate our bikes with red, white, and blue streamers. And then, after dark, the kids in Maple Shade would go outside their houses with sparklers and run up and down their streets.

But my favorite, by far, was Halloween. As soon as it got dark out, all the kids in town would go out in their homemade costumes with empty pillowcases and go to every house in town to collect candy. And when that pillow case was full, we would stop at our homes and empty them and go out for more, and that included stopping at all the stores downtown and the police station. When we got home with all our goodies, we would go through the candy and separate the good stuff, chocolate, from the not-so-popular treats like candied apples. There was nothing that I loved more in life when I was a kid than candy. It’s hard to believe that I still have most of my teeth in my mouth.

But the absolute best holiday was Christmas, which also had its own parade in which Santa Claus was the main event. He would ride in the biggest, gaudiest float and throw candy at all the kids in town. The Main Street in Maple Shade was decorated from top to bottom with Christmas decorations and lights. Santa Claus would make an appearance at the Roxy Theater on stage and give out gifts to the kids at the Saturday Matinee, and then we would sit and watch a Christmas movie, and we would get a box of candy to take home with us.

Overall the memories that stand out the most to me of my childhood were the absolute freedom that we had as children when we were not in school on holidays, but most of all, during the long, hot summer, we could come and go wherever we wanted to. Our parents would say, be careful and make sure you get home in time for dinner. In the summer, we were allowed to go out after dinner until it was quite dark, and then we would hear our parents calling us at the top of their lungs that it was time to come in. And when we finally did arrive home, we were told not to let any mosquitoes come into the house. But, if some mosquitoes did manage to come in, we would spend the next hour trying to annihilate them. Because if one got in your room, one would get little sleep because of the constant buzzing in your ears. Not to mention all the mosquito bits that itched like crazy.

And this is hard to believe, but in the summer, there would be mosquito trucks that would travel up and down the streets, and we kids would follow behind them on our bikes, never realizing that the spray was DDT and toxic. Apparently, our parents had no clue either.

But that is one of the things about childhood. There are many bumps and bruises along the way, but if you survive them all, you grow stronger and fearless. So, when you finally outgrow your childhood, you are ready to face the bigger challenges of becoming an adult with all its slings and arrows.

So, yes, Maple Shade and all the similar little towns in America during the 1950s and ’60s were a great time to grow up and discover just what you were made of, and prepare you for a life that would be both challenging and full of both joy and sorrows. And frankly, I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

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