RRN Online Volume 252

March 31 '01

Volume 252

Promise Fulfilled At Long Last

Do you remember the TV Similar To Kim's Blazer show "Candid Camera" with Allen Funt? No? Well, most of the older folks that read this newsletter are familiar with it. The premise of the program was to entertain viewers with episodes of persons being filmed without their knowledge. Most often the persons were "setup," i.e., they were captured on tape in candid and often humorous settings. At an appropriate time the host of the program would announce to the unsuspecting guests on the show that they were being filmed by stating, "Smile, you’re on Candid Camera."

At the end of each program viewers were teased, "Don’t be surprised if you hear someone, somewhere, step up to you and say, ‘Smile, you’re on Candid Camera.’"

I wasn’t being filmed, but last Saturday I was surprised, and I certainly smiled when my wife handed me the phone and I heard Kim Goslin say that she was at her sister’s house in Thaxton and would be dropping by for a visit within the next hour or so.

Persons privileged to read this newsletter in recent weeks may recall my mentioning meeting Kim’s mother and her sister and that her sister actually stopped by one Saturday afternoon for a short visit. The unusual part of the whole story was that I’ve known Kim roughly fifteen years yet only met her sister and mother recently, and though Kim had promised to drive up from Carrollton some weekend more than six years ago, her sister beat her to it. I also mentioned that maybe Kim needed a "Round To It."

Kim and I worked together for a number of years at Supervalu in Indianola, mostly in the days that our company was known as Lewis Grocer. As coworkers, we became good friends, and by association we heard about each other’s family without having the benefit of meeting everyone and knowing each one personally. As the years passed, I eventually met Kim’s husband, son, and daughter, while hearing tales about her sisters, parents, and other family members.

By noon on most Saturdays, Barbara has made up our bed, placed clothes in the washer and dryer, cleaned and put away the after-breakfast dishes, and generally has the house presentable. Depending on what I have planned to do, I may be dressed to work outside or simply milling about in whatever clothes I wore the previous day.

Yet, on the Saturday just past, Barbara had sort of let everything go and had first walked over to Dot Bell’s and then back by Sarah Sue’s, while I had ventured off to Ripley, Ms, to get a haircut and a dose of financial philosophy from my barber, Malcolm Lindsey. I had been back in town long enough to complete one of the chores I had assigned myself months ago, namely, getting on top of the house, climbing up the chimney and determining if I would be able to put a wire grate over the top of the chimney to keep the chimney swifts from nesting there again this year. Getting on the roof was easy, getting to the top of the chimney required a bit of ingenuity, which necessitated securing a rope around the chimney to hold the ladder vertically while I climbed the eight-foot ladder to accomplish the task. It may have been a bit foolhardy, but it worked, and I survived.

I should also note that my son, Jason, offered his assistance about the time I began my descent from the roof, and he also offered to help clean out the gutters. Though pleasantly surprised by his assistance, I’m still recovering from the shock of his voluntarily helping, especially when you take into account he has a greater aversion to heights than I have. Fortunately for Jason, most all the gutters around the two houses are less than twelve feet off the ground. We were almost done with the work when Barbara brought the portable phone outside for me to speak to Kim.

Kim told me her family, along with Dena’s family were involved in constructing a deck for Mrs. Jo Bennett (Kim and Dena's mother), and her long-awaited visit would be after they had eaten lunch and completed a few errands. The timing worked out well for us, also, as Barbara had time to get the house straightened, and I had time to wash my car and visit my Young friends at the Laundromat.

After talking with Kim on the phone, I called Sarah to let her know that Kim would be by in an hour or so. Sarah decided to bake a few snickerdoodle cookies for Kim and arrived at my house around one thirty p.m. The first batch of cookies didn’t suit her perfectionist’s taste, so when Kim had not arrived at two o’clock, Sarah went back home to retry her baking skills.

Shortly after three o’clock, Kim and Dena arrived in Kim's Chevrolet Blazer, and were warmly welcomed by Barbara and me. I phoned Sarah to let her know our guests had arrived, and she was soon walking in the back door with a fresh batch of cookies. Kim was overjoyed to discover she was the recipient of the snickerdoodles. I tell folks that Kim enjoys the cookies better than anyone I know, and she truly believes that no one can make them as good as Sarah Sue.

After giving Kim a tour of the house and grounds, she asked to meet Jason. I had forgotten he was the one member of my immediate family she had never met. Earlier, Jason had requested I not show his house. It’s only presentable two or three times a year, and on the day of Kim’s visit, it was not ready for being showcased. Nonetheless, Kim and I walked in Jason’s front door and entered the main living area where the appropriate introductions took place. Jason is still speaking to me, so I guess he’s not too upset that I exercised my "entry privileges" as landlord, not to mention my "Dad authority."

Overall, the time of our visit was too short. One hour is simply not enough time to catch up on things, let alone reminisce or discuss the future. However, Kim did say she planned to contact our New Albany friend, Diane Stone, in the near future for an old-time get-together. I shall be looking forward to it.

Comic Stripped Missing A Favorite

After all these years, I should be used to newspapers changing the comic strips of the daily and Sunday comics, but I’m not. The idea of being introduced to a new strip appeals only to my baser self, particularly if it has something to do with nightclubs. (That’s a joke, dear.) I’ve never been in a real nightclub, or at least I don’t think I have, and if they’re anything like casinos, I don’t need them.

I read the newspaper like some folks read this newsletter. I look at the headlines, flip over to the editorial section, skip around perusing the various opinion pieces, and then hit the comics. If time permits, I scan the local section, will occasionally read a few obituaries, and in recent years have been known to work a crossword puzzle.

Last Sunday morning, after reading another political bashing of our new president and the latest opinions on changing the state flag, I moved to the comics and partly read a new one without it even dawning on me that Jump Start was not there the week before. I guess it was when I got to the back page and couldn’t locate Prince Valiant that I began to panic.

A year or so ago, I noticed the Northeast MS Daily Journal had polled its readers regarding everyone’s favorite comics and published the results. Prince Valiant didn’t fare very well, and I presumed its days were numbered. Nonetheless, Prince Valiant remained one of my favorites, because of its excellent artwork showing tremendous detail in the costumes, weaponry, and landscapes of medieval England, plus the story line held my interest from week to week.

With blood coursing through my veins, I quickly checked to see if any of my other favorites were missing. Satisfied that only two cartoons were cut, I began to wonder what strip Jump Start had replaced. Alas, it had knocked out Barney Google and Snuffy Smith.

As a small child, I can remember my mother reading Snuffy Smith to me and our laughing over the antics of the comic characters portraying Appalachian Hillbillies. Jughead has not aged from the little boy I knew fifty years ago, but he did get a baby brother, Tater, who is still a baby after quite a few years. (Actually, Tater is a cousin, since Jughead is a nephew of Snuffy.)

Perhaps, Snuffy Smith is a victim of ethnic cleansing. Perhaps, hillbillies are no longer funny, and it's time to purge them from the annals and channels of humor. What with the TV comedies, "The Beverly Hillbillies" and "The Dukes of Hazzard," having been canceled a few decades back, it’s a wonder "Snuffy" has survived this long in the Daily Journal.

I suppose its only fitting that an ethnically oriented cartoon be replaced with one of equal or greater ethnicity. Jump Start is written and drawn by a black cartoonist, and the main characters are two working, middle class blacks, a policeman and a nurse. I’ll save judgement of the cartoon, until I’ve had the chance to evaluate it, but if I don’t warm up to it any quicker than I have to Dilbert, then that could take quite a while.

Personally, I still think Dilbert belongs in the business section of a newspaper, not on the comic pages. I had read the cartoon for several months before one of them made sense to me, and when that happened it frightened me. The sense of humor of Dilbert’s creator and mine are not on the same wavelength but are instead at least 90 degrees out of phase.

As I looked over the comics in last Sunday’s paper, I found only two that I remembered from childhood, Blondie, and Dennis the Menace. Nancy and Sluggo, Little Orphan Annie, Dick Tracy, all were favorites of my childhood, but they’ve been gone from the Journal for a long while.

Over the years, I have learned to appreciate Peanuts, Beetle Bailey, BC, Wizard of Id, Family Circus, and Hi & Lois. In recent years, I’ve warmed up to Garfield, Hagar the Horrible, For Better or For Worse, and Ziggy. However fond of Garfield I may be, I still don't want a cat in my house, and the insightful For Better or For Worse cartoon almost fell from grace the time it's creator embarked upon an "it’s okay to be a homo" theme. Crankshaft and Fox Trot have yet to endear themselves to me, but I enjoy both of them on occasion.

Arlo and Janis now occupy the spot Prince Valiant once held. Given enough time, I may learn to like it, though presently I don’t know much about this strip. However, I understand Arlo and Janis are a pair of aging hippies, and I can partially identify with that¾ I’m an aging rebel, and I tend to get riled up when someone strips my comics.

Easter Music Calvary & FBC Belmont

It's difficult to say who's the most inventive, my wife or my daughter. Both of them manage to dream up more ways to phone and/or visit each other than I could, if I fully devoted my energies to it. Normally, I'm not adversely affected by their schemes, but occasionally I get drawn into one of their conspiracies.

I spent a lot of time on the road last week. Starting with Sunday, March 18, and ending the following Saturday, my daily log showed the following mileage: 170, 380, 325, 180, 415, 310, 85, for a total of 1865 miles.

I can't really complain about the mere 140 miles from Pontotoc to Belmont and back, as it gets lost in the midst of greater numbers. Neither can I complain about the purpose of the trip. Barbara and I, along with Sarah Sue, and my granddaughter, Anna, attended an Easter musical presented at the First Baptist Church in Belmont last Friday night. Rayanne is a member of the choir at FBC, Belmont. Her husband could not attend the presentation, due to work requirements, so Rayanne invited us over for the occasion.

"Can y'all pick up Anna Friday afternoon and bring her? This is her weekend to be with us," Rayanne added, manipulatively, to her conversation with her mother early last week.

"Katherine and Merilese will sit with us," Barbara revealed as we approached Pontotoc, Friday afternoon, explaining the pediatrician felt Katherine was too young to be around other small children in the church nursery.

"A novel idea," I mused, "and exposing a newborn to sneezing, coughing, and germ belching adults is better?"

Yet, what do I know? I'm not a doctor, but, like a doctor, my medical advice is often sought and seldom followed. I'm also not too keen on taking a month-old infant to a church service, even if it is a musical presentation. Infants are unable to control their bodily functions and when unhappy, they have a way, albeit a most distractive way, of making their unhappiness known to all within earshot. Fortunately, Katherine was content to sip her milk and listen to the music.

The two Baptist churches in Belmont, FBC and Calvary, joined choirs to present "Alpha and Omega," the acclaimed musical message of Easter. I counted 21 women and 12 men for a total of 33 singers. Sarah, Barbara, and I observed a wealth of talent in the choir, a small choir by the standard of ours at FBC Pontotoc, but one whose overall sound would be difficult to match. The enjoyable and worshipful event offered proof that Christian music doesn't require pageantry or drama skits to be worthwhile and appreciated.

Prior to returning to Pontotoc, we ate finger-food with the choir members and their families, as guests of Rayanne. We were well received, and once again several members told us of the church's appreciation of our daughter's musical talents. With swollen heads and bulging stomachs we made our way home. I'm speaking for Barbara and me. Sarah would probably prefer that I explain that she exercised her willpower and did not eat anything at the choir fellowship because she is dieting.

Bodock Beau The Clever Dog

Whether the "good thing" is a spouse, a child, a friend, or a dog, some men are simply incapable of knowing a good thing when they have it. Such is the case of the butcher below:

A butcher is working, and really busy. He notices a dog in his shop and shoos him away. Later, he notices the dog is back again. He walks over to the dog, and notices the dog has a note in his mouth. The butcher takes the note, and it reads, "Can I have 12 sausages and a leg of lamb, please." The butcher looks, and lo-and-behold, in the dog's mouth, there is a ten dollar bill.

So the butcher takes the money, puts the sausages and lamb in a bag, and places it in the dog's mouth. The butcher is very impressed, and since it's closing time, he decides to close up shop and follow the dog. So, off he goes.

The dog walks down the street and comes to a crossing. The dog puts down the bag, jumps up and presses the crossing button. Then he waits patiently, bag in mouth, for the lights to change. They do, and he walks across the road, with the butcher following.

The dog then comes to a bus stop, and starts looking at the timetable. The butcher is in awe at this stage. The dog checks out the times, and sits on one of the seats to wait for the bus. Along comes a bus. The dog walks to the front of the bus, looks at the number, and goes back to his seat.

Another bus comes. Again the dog goes and looks at the number, notices it's the right bus, and climbs on. The butcher, by now open- mouthed, follows him onto the bus. The bus travels through town and out to the suburbs. Eventually the dog gets up, moves to the front of the bus, and standing on his hind legs pushes the button to stop the bus. The dog gets off with the groceries still in his mouth and the butcher still following.

They walk down the road, and the dog approaches a house. He walks up the path, and drops the groceries on the step. Then he walks back down the path, takes a big run, and throws himself - whap!- against the door. He goes back down the path, takes another run, and throws himself -whap!- against the door again!

There is no answer at the door, so the dog goes back down the path, jumps up on a narrow wall, and walks along the perimeter of the garden. He gets to a window, and bangs his head against it several times. He walks back, jumps off the wall, and waits at the door. The butcher watches as a big guy opens the door, and starts laying into the dog, really yelling at him.

The butcher runs up and stops the guy. "What the heck are you doing? This dog is a genius. He could be on TV, for God's sake!"

To which the guy responds, "Genius, my eye! This is the third time this week he's forgotten his key!"

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