The Blog had to come first this morning. As I sit on the writing porch and watch the wonderful rain fall I knew that my writing inspiration would not be greater than right now. MJ just noticed that some of our leaves are changing…already. Could that be a harbinger of an early fall? We attended a memorial service at our church yesterday. It did not occur to me until I had left that my visit was my first in nearly 17 months…and it seemed to me like yesterday. A year of normal travel and interaction and ingress and egress to our favorite social groups and houses of worship and restaurants and businesses has disappeared like magic. The effects of our on-going Pandemic are yet to be fully realized. History will record the true transitions that the 2020/2021 Pandemic has wrought. From economics to social interactions to the needed change in faith communities…we have yet to understand the tremendous change that we are in the midst of.

I was thinking of the change that is needed in churches. We who have been churched and settled in our dogma and doctrine and forms of worship…are watching our congregations become the Incredible Shrinking Church. In our determination to not respond to the needs of a lonely and hungry people who are seeking a faith that addresses the real issues that they confront on a daily basis…we loose the spiritual nomads to the many social and sport and fun enterprises that exist for the family on the christian sabbath…Sunday. The human needs are not less…they are greater. The desire to seek and find a God and a faith that understands and wants our input and our vitality and our skills to be a part of it…is inherent in the human spirit. We are members of an increasingly uncertain world…and we long for something to put our faith and trust in…to be an anchor for our soul…

Cults have stepped into the void of the christian church. Denominational churches that at one time had hundreds of members…now have under 100…and continue to shrink by the passing of their lifelong members. When asked…church leadership will say…’Don’t change a thing as this is how the parishioners that I represent want the church to function.’ ‘And the beat goes on,’…but it is the downbeat. The scripture admonishes us to not seek the living among the dead. Some of our ways for reaching out to the lonely throngs around us who have lost loved ones to our Pandemic and who wonder what is the purpose of their lives…and who can not see anyone who seems to care about them…have failed due to our failure to update the program. We have failed because of our fear of change. We have failed because we fail to let go of some of the aspects of a 1950’s church manual…and our refusal to renew our outreach to the people of a new century…we protect a dead program…as we die…

Almost every town and hamlet and village has a cult thriving in its midst. These are faux christian communities that have taken the following of Christ and replaced it with the following of a pastor or minister. These groups ‘Love Bomb’ the prospective member until, as the master fisherman would say, they have the hook firmly implanted in the new prospects jaw. Then comes the Rules of the Road for the new member. A mandatory dedication of a herculean component of their finance to the cult and an obeisance to the groups leader or leaders. These groups can be marked by the increasing financial abundance of the leaders and the penury of the followers. These fake faith communities are noted by their requirements of servitude and work for the common cause and little personal decision making or thought…which is left to the leaders of the group. Cults are thriving while christian churches are dying. Where there is a vacuum of leadership…the wolves will ascend.

This is the day…is it not? For as long as I can remember Saturday was the day that I waited for all week. The glories of Saturday were incomparable. The benefits of Saturday were too numerous to mention. There were cartoons on Saturday…all morning. There was no school…of which I did not care for much anyway. The kids, of which I felt internally that I was older than, were all available for play and adventure. Often there would be an afternoon trip to Jackie’s house for some play with action figures and the much sought after…Daniel Boone. Jackie’s mom had Kool Aide to drink and cold hot dogs to eat…accompanied by white bread.

Orpheum Theatre screened the same movie on Friday nights and again for their Saturday matinee. Many times it would be a science fiction flick or a Castle Horror movie…in the vein of Dracula or Frankenstein. I think that christianity first enthused me when the great vampire fighter, Peter Cushing, used his cross to fight the evil Dracula. The cross seemed to be very powerful to me…at that point. Sitting in the darkened theatre and watching places that I had never been and people that I had never met intrigued my imagination. John Waynes swagger and no nonsense approach to the demarcation between good and evil was impressive. He seemed to always be on the side of the right and yet was a bit of a rapscallion as he went about his business. It was later that I discovered that life’s problems and needs could not be solved in the ‘John Wayne’ mold of operation.

During our years in Elkville, Illinois and when Aaron and Jonathon were much younger…we enjoyed traveling to St. Louis, Missouri which is a 100 mile drive and the city for we residents of Little Egypt. On many occasions we would drive up on Saturday and stay overnight in order to see a Cubs Cardinals baseball game on each day. These were some fun and adventuresome weekend get-aways. MJ is a consummate Cubs fan. St. Louis Saturdays were filled with visiting the Zoo or the Art Museum or Christmas shopping or simply driving up to the city for dinner.

Freedom is the operating word for Saturday. No work or school obligations. For sometime when we resided in the Village…we drove to our little city of Carbondale to visit their outstanding mall. We would eat in one of the malls many restaurants and enjoy the laid back hustle and bustle of our college town. There was a 4 screen movie theatre in the University Mall…and in the 1970’s I was amazed at the ingenuity of placing such a marvelous entertainment venue in what seemed to me to be an enclosed town square. During my youth I had been accustomed to either individual stores along the streets of Eldorado or the shopping mall that was in Evansville, Indiana. The University Mall had a humongous Sears Department store with an escalator. Sears was the epitome of fine shopping in my world. We did not have a Sears store in Eldorado. Again, we had to drive to Evansville for the elite experience of Sears shopping. I purchased my first home computer at the Sears store in the University Mall. This was in the 1980’s. It was an IBM computer. We played the game, Oregon Trail, on it and did some word processing. It had no internet capability. It’s price tag was two thousand dollars.

For sometime we attended a church that met on Saturday night. I would have enjoyed it more if we had not also met on Sunday afternoon and again on Sunday evening. Actually the traditional habit of churches meeting on Sunday evenings was common 30 years ago. Now we parishioners are thrilled when the pews are semi full for our single service of the week on Sunday morning. I always thought that the rationale for a church meeting on Saturday night was to keep us away from the devil and the glittering baubles of sin that he juggled before us. Mom enjoyed visiting the Honky Tonk on Saturday night. She loved to dance and drink a Slo-Gin Fizz. Not long after she passed in 2013 we visited our favorite restaurant on The Hill in St. Louis…Cunetto House of Pasta…for my birthday. As we sat at the bar Jonathon asked the bartender if he knew how to make a Slo-Gin Fizz. He responded that he did and that they still had some mix that was specific to the making of the drink. He noted that they used to have one patron that ordered the obscure drink…but that they had not seen him in quite awhile. Upon him inspections he pronounced that the contents of the bottle were still good…and we toasted to Grandma Neva June…with her favorite drink…

Last evening, MJ and Jonathon and I went to dinner with our church’s Dinner Group. This was my first meeting with our Presbyterian friends since the outbreak of the Pandemic…and it was wonderful to see so many smiling faces. We have been separated for well over a year…and they were a sight for sore eyes. We sat with Sharon and Phil…and they simply are special people. They both are so friendly and warm hearted… that they remind me of what a great vocation…christianity is. Each diner looked so happy to be in the company of their faith community family. As we spoke with many in the group I was struck with the significant physical and family challenges and loss that my friends have had to deal with in the last 16 – 17 months. We were forced to live in a bubble…’but no man is an island.’ We need each other like we need oxygen and food and sunlight and rain. When we are alone we are like an isolated piece of a puzzle. When others look upon us it is a bit difficult to determine where we fit in the completed masterpiece. But, when we come together…we have a different look about us…we have a unique shine…we have a revealed purpose…

Friends stir up each others minds and enrich each others hearts. Friends like you in your good times and in your not so good times. Unconditional love is the ideal of Christ teaching. It is transformative. It projects your best image…back to you. Friends make us better…

Progress is incremental. Change is the art of the possible. Hope is doing all that you humanly can do…and faith in God’s mercy. Simply put, christianity and christian acts do not fly in the face of common sense. I was visiting with a friend the other day and he recounted the time when he was on a church board and he voted against a fiscally irresponsible act. I have been a member of a few churches during my 52 year christian journey. On more than one occasion I have been exhorted to trust God for our financial needs…while significant debt was incurred…in the name of faith. That type of courage is remarkable when you are dealing with other peoples money. I witnessed a church file for bankruptcy due to lack of funds to cover their operational needs.

We still have a pandemic crisis in our country. People are refusing to be vaccinated. There are a variety of reasons for their refusal…although all of them are potentially deadly to the obdurate non-vaccinated person. Political leaders and religious leaders, in many of our states, are advising their constituents and their’ parishioners to not get the vaccine. Perhaps they should visit the intensive care wards as the same people, who trusted them, breath their last breath…

Life is resplendent with unlimited possibilities. Our future is often as wonderful as we can visualize. However there are no shortcuts to reaching our dreams. Practical christianity builds powerful churches and solid and secure happy lives. As my old pastor often said, ‘Stay on track.’ He even had a tie tac that was fashioned like a train track.

January 6th…really did happen. The insurrectionist were not brimming over with love and good will…they were criminals. Truth is supported by verifiable facts. We can not say that the, ‘Sky is falling like Chicken Little did, without concrete evidence that is accepted by the ancient measure and ruler of…common sense. Someone said that the Biden stimulus checks were causing people to not seek employment due to making more on unemployment. This would be the case for all social programs. A small group abuse the program and a majority desperately need the assistance to put food on their table…to feed their children and to keep a roof over their heads. By the way…if unemployment pays more than working 2 or 3 jobs to make ends meet…perhaps there is something that is desperately wrong with what we pay our working class in this…the richest of all countries on the face of the earth?

Jesus said that we would always have the poor with us. I can attest to that Christ’ admonition as I began life in a solid middle class family…and then after my mom and dad divorced…slipped into the poor that are all around us. I vividly recall loving milk, especially whole milk. I did not drink water…only milk. In those early days it seemed so much better than water…or as my mother-in-law, Fernie, asked me when she developed kidney problems toward the end of her life, ‘Jay, do you remember people always talking about drinking water?’ In any event when mom and I struck out on our own…there was no money for whole milk…only powered milk that came from a box and you mixed it with water and it was horrendous… I lived on 6th street and the kids on 7th street did not wear shoes all summer. This was due to the economical fact that the shoe money was for school. Mom and I stood in what was called commodity lines where a person would throw food to we poor folks off of the back of the truck. Commodity cheese was good. I will never forget the caviler attitude of the commodity food vendors for we less fortunate. I had the impression that they felt that we were bilking or gaming the system and were somewhat lazy. My wonderful mom worked in housekeeping at a local motel as well as going to adult education classes to become a photographer. I would save my pennies until I had 10 and then go to the local restaurant on State Street to purchase a glass of whole milk. Mom required that I receive a crewcut for my haircut in order to cut down on barber visits. We had meat perhaps once per week and there was a lot of split-pea soup.

So

, I have enjoyed an increasingly stable financial lifestyle as an adult and indeed have need of nothing…for the past several years. I am able to focus on travel and hobbies and collections and enjoying my golden years. I have not forgotten what it was like to be the servant and the outcast and the marginalized. I remember what it felt like to be the only child in my first grade class who could not afford a 20 cent per day hot lunch. I know how set apart that I felt to be the only one who carried a brown bag to school…and later a Gunsmoke lunch pail. I wish that I still had the Gunsmoke lunch pail as I am certain that it would be valuable.

Sunday night I watched the first episode of the limited series, White Lotus, on HBO. It is a satire of the ‘Haves and the Have Nots.’ It is a satire of the affluent. A parody of the upper middle class and the slave like servitude of the poor and working class to facilitate their prosperous holidays and vacations. I saw myself in both the haves and those who have not. MJ and I as well as our sons, Aaron and Jonathon, have taken several cruises. I could not help but notice the herculean efforts of the ship staff to make our stay…care free. Most of the staff, who are from the Philippines and Malaysia as well as countries across the world…work 18 hour days for very little money. I remember a little elderly man who was our cabin steward during our first Alaska cruise. He transported all of our luggage for 3 people and the mound of suitcases was taller than him. Of course tips of $10 dollars a day are figured into your onboard bill…but you can remove the tips at the conclusion of the cruise. Also many, including us, leave an additional tip in an envelope for our servers and caregivers…but that does not solve their third world problems.

Jamaica was MJ and my first holiday directly after my retirement at the conclusion of 2010. We flew to Jamaica and then took a bus from the airport to a Sandals Resort…of which there are several on Jamaica, and I could not believe the abject poverty that I saw from the bus windows. There were no window glass in most of the homes and many of the adults and children were in varying stages of undress. I witnessed a hard working Jamaican working diligently on his house without any trousers on…and he seemed oblivious to the fact of his missing garment.

Sandals was an oasis in the desert. When we arrived we were greeted with a wet towel and a glass of champagne. Soon we arrived at our suites that were cool and pleasantly Caribbean. Ron had told me that Jamaicans enjoyed their alcoholic beverages…but I did not fully understand until I sat at one of the many bars and asked for a vodka tonic and watched the bartender mix the strongest vodka tonic that I had ever experienced. When I mentioned that his liberality with his alcohol pouring was much appreciated…he commented…’We are a drinking country…Mon!’

There is a scene in the first episode of White Lotus that reminded me of how I have been treated on more than one occasion. A young married woman is trying to strike up a conversation with two female college students on the beach of the resort that they all shared a flight too. The college students are aloof and non-communicative for most of her questions and have a basically, ‘Better than thou.,’ approach to the newlyweds honest approach to making friends. I was reminded of the times that I have been treated in just such a fashion. When I was a young person and I had had friends who had done well financially. Our relationship moved from equals to their not feeling the need to even respond to my greetings at the little church that we mutually attended.

It has been said that, ‘ power corrupts and that ultimate power corrupts ultimately.’ So may it be said and noted that money causes the poor to forget their past…

Cumulus clouds are covering our skies. The temperatures are a bit cooler and there has been some rain and there is more in the forecast for the latter part of the week. I wrote of the great closet clean-out earlier and one of my fellow bloggers mentioned that I was either, ‘very early for spring cleaning or very late.’ I think that both measures equally apply. I was reminded of the old radio show, Fibber McGee and Molly, and Fibber’s closet. The show regularly depicted Fibber opening his closet door and a thunderous crash ensuing as the pent up contents were released on to the hall floor. The popular radio program ran from 1935 – 1959 and starred, Jim Jordan and Marian Jordan. The Jordans were, ‘a husband and wife team that had been working in radio since the 1920’s, according to Wikipedia.

Bob Hope was a comedic icon to me when I was growing up. Mom loved Bob Hope. He was an extraordinary comedian as well as performing in several feature length films. He and the singer Bing Crosby, along with the actress Dorothy Lamour starred in what was commonly referred to as the ‘Road Pictures.’ Where Bob captivated my imagination as a child and young man was his yearly traveling to perform for our troops in Vietnam. Mr. Hope began performing for soldiers stationed overseas during World War II and continued for 50 years visiting armed service personnel across the planet.

So today I was able to order from Etsy a GI Joe Action Figure that is fashioned to look like Bob Hope that is from the early 1990’s. I recall the resurgence of the foot tall GI Joe Action Figures of the 90’s as it was reminiscent of the original GI Joe figures of the mid 1960’s. I was an Action Figure fan in the 60’s…but I never possessed an actual GI Joe…but rather his less expensive cousin…Stony. But, now, Bob Hope is coming my way and he will be the fifth of my GI Joe collection which is comprised of 3 miniature GI Joes from the latter 1990’s and one full size figure.

Increasingly I am drawn to vintage toys. You have heard of the second childhood…

Sunday greeted me with a closet full of clothes and boxes and photos that looked similar to the results of an earthquake. Everything was in a large and ominous pile in the middle of the floor. Immediately I understood what I would be doing for our Sunday relaxation. Luckily, Jonathon was graciously assisted me. A shelf had fallen…from 20 years of strain. During the massive clean -up measures I discovered items that I felt were long lost. There was a photo of Chancellor Wendler and I…and I had almost no grey hair. Along came my missing pocket watch that Grandpa Earl had gotten one for each of us, Aaron and Jonathon and I…in the 1990’s. I was preparing to discard a University of Illinois folder when Jonathon cautioned me that I did not want to relegate that folder to the bin…as it had his mom’s grade school diploma inside of it.

MJ witnessed Jonathon and my good work and decided that she and I should continue today in our noble effort of cleaning out the master closet. I discovered TV Guides when they were still small and informative magazines. There was a Southern Illinoisan Newspaper that’s headline proclaimed that Obama Wins. I traveled in time as I read documents that I had been a part of writing such as the Civil Service Excellence Study and The Building Services Handbook and the Building Services Operations Manual. Suddenly…my long missing binoculars that I had received as a gift from Southern Illinois University @ Carbondale for 20 years of service. And…of course…my trench coats that I took great stock in as they covered my suits and sport coats in the winter’s wind and frost. MJ found a dress that she had worn when she was 16. She found other garments that she had worn in the weddings of others when she was in her 20’s.

When I see an old photo or discover an old newspaper clipping or headline or inspect a garment that I have not worn in many years…I remember what I was thinking and doing and wishing and hoping for…when I was living through the time of the item that has been not thought of…for many years. I was immersed in those times…and little else mattered at those moments…now they are but a fond memory and many of the values that were so important at those times have been replaced by subjects that are pertinent to the present chapter of my life. I loved my black three quarter length coats. They were expensive and I perceived that I looked the part of my role as a manager when I was wearing them. In even earlier days I coveted leather jackets and leather coats. A leather coat…to me….was the epitome of being well dressed. I had spent much of my youth and early adulthood not being well dressed…and I enjoyed not looking shabby and disheveled. I came from the generation that you were not supposed to leave the house without you shirt tucked in and your hair combed.

I have saved a lot of items…and never looked at them since… Things that I was certain that i was going to peruse and enjoy on a regular basis…I have forgotten. As we age we change. New chapters in our lives bring with them…different priorities. For many years I sought the approval of leaders at SIUC and the protection of my wonderful staff at Building Services. If any of them suffered…I suffered. I worried and fretted about my charge and the people that were counting on me 24/7 and 365 days per year. My University and it’s welfare were never far from my thoughts. I was constantly planning and staging ways that Building Services could enhance its role in the most vital of Southern Illinois University @ Carbondale’s needs…the recruitment and retention of our most precious students. I have noticed…with great sadness… of late…that the recognition of the hard working and supremely dedicated Civil Service Staff does not seem to be the critical priority in administration’s long term planning? Perhaps I have misunderstood…or as the saying goes, ‘The proof of the pudding…is in the eating.’

MJ and I had a lovely trip to St. Louis this past Thursday and Friday. We enjoy staying at the Drury Inn which has a complimentary breakfast and dinner as well as 3 complimentary drinks during their Happy Hour. Probably the highlight of the two day event was eating lunch on Friday at Bartolino’s Osteria on The Hill. It is next to the Drury Inn. We have been fans of St. Louis for many years and have had physicians in the city for 8 years. Each time that MJ received a good medical report…I feel euphoric and we subsequently celebrated with a glass of wine at the restaurant. Having had many years of giving little thought to medical issues…I came to realize early in our retirement that health issues had become a new reality in our mix of travel and fun and the freedom of not having to report to work each day. Such is life with its unique mixture of laughter and tears and mountains and valleys…often united in the same experience.

Practical Christianity is the faith that is closest to my heart. Not the faith community that espouses that all of the world is in darkness and that there is only a select few of God’s creation that are worthy of saving and therefore are his children. The exclusive christian clubs remind me of the elite and insular social clubs of the rich and famous. The belief that the door is only open to a certain ethnicity or members of a preferred social hierarchy is at odds with the message of Jesus. When we exclude others…we exclude ourselves.

My friend, John, described a good breakdown of two segments of churches in the United States. One would be people who are seeking fulfillment of themselves and a faith walk that enriches them…but have little interest in reaching outside of their faith community. The other group are primarily focused on putting legs and hands and feet to their following of Christ by assisting those in need. It seems to me that the ideal church is a mixture of people energized by the gospel and thus are compelled to reach out to those who need a helping hand.

The magical appeal of Jesus message is that it resonates with the highly educated and those who have little education. It brings the rich and the poor together to break bread and learn of each other. Practical Christianity sees the multitude of humanity as God’s children…and as when Jesus fed the five thousand…all God’s children got to eat…

Today I have had two brief conversations with friends regarding summertime. My buddy, Jeff, wanted to know how the ‘Old Guy’ was holding up in the humidity and heat. I responded that I preferred lukewarm…and he replied, ‘Like bathwater.’ Indeed I have never been a fan of summer but I have learned to appreciate it as it is a full fourth of our year. I remember no air conditioners in the house that I lived as well as no AC in the cars that I drove. It was so hot and humid even at night…that sleep alluded me…and I was a kid who could sleep 10 hours without realizing that the time had passed…until I awakened. My step-father, Earl, told me to crack my window just a few inches and he would place a box fan in the kitchen window and put the settings on exhaust to facilitate cool air coming in through the 5 inch opening of my bedroom window. As I placed my face directly in front of the crack…I awaited the cool air. None was forthcoming…and I finally fell into a fitful and unrestful sweaty half-sleep. A welcome respite was a rain storm that would drop the temperatures several degrees and that came with its own cool wind. But as most summer rains…it was temporary…and then returned the more humid and hotter heat of a night in Little Egypt.

A Belair 1957 Convertible is a pleasure to ride in at any stage of your life. Nothing was more fun than mom and I and my cousin, Brenda, and my friend, Jackie, loading up into our Chevrolet and letting the rag top down and enjoying our hair flying and the the feeling of total abandon and carefree as we made our way to Pounds Hollow Pond to swim. Pounds Hollow had the longest stone stairway from the parking lot to the picnic area and bathhouse. We would pay a few cents for a metal basket to place our clothes in and proceed to the changing room. The grassy beach was on a hill facing the cool and inviting water. Once in the water…I was transported to another world. No longer did I notice the oppressive heat of a Southern Illinois summer…it was replaced with the cool environs of the Hollow’s lovely lake water. Pounds Hollow was a timeless experience. I was never a strong swimmer…but I loved to float. If you have eve floated you know that your ears are in the water and you can not hear most of the sounds around you. The Pond had a safety rope for we swimmers to not cross…but when I was floating…I crossed all the way to the far bank of the body of water. It really was just me and the water…being one…

Nice, France is a lovely old city. During our month in Europe in 2014 we spent a week with our dear friends, Margo and Jeff. We did a lot of walking…and it was hot…Mediterranean sun… I became more tanned by the day. I decided that I required a hat. I had forgotten to pack one of mine for the journey. As a part of our many walkabouts we searched for hats. Finally we found a hat store where MJ and I both purchased a French bonnet. Mine was a bit of a bucket hat. It was white and possessed a little brim on the front and curled up in the back. MJ bought a hat with a large brim and a wonderful blue color. It looked very French…and she appeared to be a French girl wearing her new headgear. Our friends flat was very near the ocean and we walked up and down the promenade on a daily basis. The beach was comprised of stones…not for the barefooted. Jeff and I enjoyed many cigars along the popular walkway. I wanted he and I to experience a Cohiba Cigar from Cuba. Although there was an embargo on them in the United States…they were freely sold in France. And, so, I purchased 4 for us and we lit up. Jeff looked at me with a look of pain and illness as he puffed away. I subsequently took a long drag on the famous and prized cigar that had been expensive…but nothing to good for my lifelong friend…and it tasted terrible… After a while Jeff asked if I minded if he did not finish his…and I agree that something was amiss with the tobacco.

Rome in 2011 was hot. We had all been a part of my and MJ’s retirement cruise. Our plane had landed at Leonardo Da Vinci airport and Bob’s Limo Service took us to our Hotel Monte Carlo. I had worn my flat Irish Woolen Cap that I purchased in St. Charles, Missouri a few years prior. It was hot and my head was subsequently hot…and a bird pooped on my hat on the first day of our Rome walking tour after we had returned to the city following our Mediterranean Cruise. The Cruise had afforded us a lovely lunch with Margo at Nice as a part of a land excursion. She and MJ and Jonathon enjoyed some Gelato at a nearby stand before we had to return to our ship. We travelled from Rome to Assisi, which is the home of St. Francis, and it was scorching hot. There was a lovely couple on the bus with us. The gentleman was from Brooklyn, New York and the lady from Israel and a former member of the Mossad. They bought us wine at our luncheon and I had to scurry to buy the lovely lady a pastry at Assisi. Our tour guide was tired. He spoke to us in three languages on the many hours of bus riding…but when we got off the bus to climb an extremely long hill to tour an old church…he told us that…’There is the church…I will be under the tree….’ A woman from South Africa berated our guide…non-stop to Assisi and back to Rome. She told him that she had overseen the tours for all of South Africa…and that he was doing it wrong… Our deflated guide simply replied, ‘Madam…Madam…Madam.’ In Tunis, Tunisia I had tipped our wonderful tour guide a 10 Euro note. MJ instructed me that we were not made of money and that I would have to leave no more than half of my over generous tip from now on. When we departed the bus…after our long journey and the added benefit of the constant haranguing of our tired and deflated and defeated tour guide….MJ gave him a 10 Euro note…she noted that she felt sorry for him…

Well, I dropped off the old television set this morning at Southern Recycling in Carbondale. We had it 7 or 8 years…and it died…or as the New Zealand actress Fern Southerland often said in the detective series we watched that was set in New Zealand… when she came upon another dead body…’He’s deed.’ I telephoned the owner of the Recycling establishment and asked him how I should deliver the ‘Deed television?’ He said just pull into the building and leave it…’You give us nothing and we give you nothing.’ I then understood as I have been party to such an arrangement on several occasions. Still, I felt a bit like a unsavory person leaving my junk on another persons doorstep.

Years ago, before I retired, MJ told me that for my birthday that year I could purchase several vintage toys that I had enjoyed as a child. She had often heard my lamentations regarding my mom burning… in the prescribed burning barrel…all of my toys and comic books and even vinyl records after I moved away from home at the mature age of 17. Now to give mom her due she did tell me on more than one occasion that I should come to Eldorado and retrieve my childhood treasures or she was going to dispose of them. I had the Western Action figures of Johny West and his sidekick Chief Cherokee. I possessed the army soldier, Stony, who was a knock off of the more popular GI Joe figures. I had a detective with multiple disguises. My buddy, Jackie, had my most coveted Action Figure, Daniel Boone based on the actor Fess Parker who portrayed Mr. Boone on a weekly television series. I could not find Daniel Boone at the Ben Franklin Dime Store. He was similar to my army man, Stony, in that his legs were in a fixed position and not like the fully articulated GI Joe figures. So I set about ordering not 1 or 2 but 3 Daniel Boone figures from EBay. They were not cheap. They were for retail sale in the early 1960’s. That is when I wiled away many Saturdays with my friend Jackie Brooks at his home in Parrish Addition in Eldorado, Illinois. Jackie knew that I wanted to play with his Daniel Boone action figure. He withheld him from my hungry grasp. He looked just like the actor, Fess Parker, and I was amazed at the resemblance. My cousin, Billy, had a Rifleman figurine riding a horse…that I coveted because the Rifleman was fashioned after the actor who portrayed the Rifleman…Chuck Connors.

Jonathon revealed to me, last night, that my prized Daniel Boone action figure was broken. He had lost an arm and the arm was broken. We feared it was the house cleaners…but accidents happen. Today I glued his arms onto his body and his broken wing back together. He is almost 60 years old. We folks in our 60’s require repairs and mending. Daniel has followed me for the majority of my life…we old folks have to stick together…

Mike Hazzard is the name of action figure with many disguises from the 1960’s. He is on sale on Ebay for $449.00. I have been collecting the small GI Joes at Electric Larry’s here in town. They hale from the 90’s. Today I ordered from Etsy an antique GI Joe from the 60’s. I love vintage and antique toys…