RRN Online Volume 274

September 01 '01

Volume 274

Bodock 2001 8th Annual Event

To hear my sister tell it, Fruit Of The Tree George Stegall looked at the calendar and asked, "What’s the hottest time of the year, for a festival," and armed with historical weather information, chose the fourth Saturday in August for the Bodock Festival.

Sarah doesn’t particularly like to sweat and will avoid whatever it is that tends to cause perspiration, be it gardening, housework, yard work, cooking, or attending a summer festival. Unless it relates to her occupation and is mandatory, Sarah will opt for activities involving cooler conditions. I can’t blame her, but she does miss out on a lot of good things by limiting her choices of activities based on the sweat factor. However, at this year's festival (held a week earlier than in previous years), the Friday afternoon temperatures were mild for August, and the rainfall early Saturday morning was over by mid-morning and the weather was mild all day.

Personally, I don’t think George was looking for a hot weekend when he and others conceived organizing Pontotoc’s Bodock Festival. I think a lot of thought went into it. August is the time when the bodock trees are heavily fruited. If we had a peach festival, it wouldn’t be held in November, because it’s not when peach production is in full swing. I would also speculate that other area cities had nailed down all of the late spring/ early summer dates. So, if Pontotoc’s festival were to garner all the attention it deserved, it could not be scheduled to conflict with a neighbor’s festival.

I heard on the news and read in the newspapers that the namesake for the festival was destroyed in the Pontotoc Tornado of Feb. 24, 2001. I knew that one of the reasons for the festival being labeled "Bodock" had to do with the fact that the largest bodock tree in the state was located at antebellum Lochinvar, situated just over a mile south of downtown Pontotoc. However, Pontotoc County is full of bodock trees. The news reports implied the destruction of the giant bodock tree should in some way impact the festival.

Though no one stated it as, "Since y’all’s tree blew down, you mean y’all still gonna celebrate yo’re Bodock festival," I got the distinct impression that’s what the reporters were implying.

With or without a record sized tree, Pontotoc’s festival was a huge success. It’s been successful every year since it’s inception eight years ago, but it seems to get better each year. To proclaim, "If you’ve seen one festival, you’ve seen them all," surely does not apply to the Bodock Festival. In its brief history, it has become a leader among the area festivals, attracting thousands of people and hundreds of vendors.

Each year, the booths of arts and crafts are varied and interesting whether one is looking to buy or just looking. The daylong musical entertainment on Saturday has something for most everyone to enjoy. The festival actually begins with a sit-down dinner/ banquet with entertainment on Thursday night, and most court-square vendors are set up by noon on Friday. Friday night and Saturday the parking lots are full of vehicles and streets are filled with people.

Members of the Pontotoc County Historical Society did a superb job with educational events and entertainment once again. Since locating a museum in the old Post Office in downtown Pontotoc, the Historical Society has outdone themselves. Exhibits alone would merit one visiting the museum, but for the Bodock Festival the Historical Society goes the extra mile, and they show out.

One of the members, Callie Young, wrote a musical titled "Voices From The Past," which was presented on the loading dock of the building to an audience seated on the parking lot beneath the shade of a colorful parachute. Local actors and actresses portrayed nationally known celebrities such as Steven Foster, regionally known ones such as Colonel W. C. Falkner, and recent local citizens including, R.L. Ray of department store fame and businessmen M.L. Shannon and Marion Bigham. It was my misfortune to have missed both musical presentations, but I heard glowing reviews from many. I have been told that additional repeat performances are planned for the near future.

In addition to the musical, other historical characters circulated among crowds throughout the day. Among these were Mark Twain, Teddy Roosevelt, and Susan B. Anthony. I only got to meet Susan B. Anthony, but would have loved to have talked to Teddy R. about his bear hunt in Mississippi. I’m a fan of Mark Twain, and had I seen him, I’d have asked him to autograph my extensive collection of his works. Yet, meeting Susan B. Anthony, portrayed by RRN supporter, Sarah Carter Naugher, was a thrill a minute. Why, we even sang together. Though still in her costume, she was out of character at the time of our song.

I had been introduced to Walter Bates, a craftsman, on the previous day. At the time, he was keeping Floyd McCullough company at the quilt display in the museum. Walter had donated a quilt to be raffled off the prior year. I had forgotten he was also a piano player, until I saw him playing the piano in the museum on Saturday afternoon. A song was on the music holder of the piano, but it had no musical score. However, Mr. Bates, did not need any sheet music to play the Blues by ear. When I asked him about the song he was playing, he stated it was about the deadly tornado that destroyed most of Tupelo in the 1930’s. That’s when Sarah Naugher hopped up and began to sing the lyrics of the song. She needed no help, but since the rhythms appealed to my musical tastes, I chimed in with a "made up" bass line. I didn’t feel like I contributed much to the presentation, but I enjoyed it. Sarah tried to dance to the music as well, but Walter couldn’t get the tempo hot enough for her. Sarah’s husband, David, told her he didn’t want to hear any complaining from her about being sore the next day.

I’ve mentioned only a few of the various events sponsored by the Historical Society, but there were many more. For me, the best part of the festival is taking in the museum and all that is offered by the Historical Society. If it were possible to improve on this year’s presentations it would be regarding publicity. They have an extraordinary event that is relatively unknown to the larger community. Next year, I’d like to see more announcements of activities in the local and area newspapers, more vignettes on TV, and more signage in the community promoting the role of the Pontotoc County Historical Society in the annual festival. I missed the musical because I didn’t have enough advance notice, and I figure I’m not alone in that respect. Perhaps, next year the PCHS will be able to get the media recognition they deserve.

White Mountain Simply The Best

In a hit country tune of the 1950's, "North To Alaska," Johnny Horton sang, "…below that old white mountain, just a little southeast of Nome." He probably wasn't thinking of homemade ice cream at the time, and neither was I when the song was popular. Yet, in recent years, White Mountain has reminded me of a portion of my youth that is long past. The White Mountain folks have been making quality ice cream freezers for more than a hundred years. In fact, they claim their product is the "World's Best Ice Cream Freezer."

For a number of years, I have yearned for a hand cranked ice cream freezer. I would often see one at an ice cream fellowship at church, so I knew they were still in existence. Apart from those infrequent encounters, I had only my childhood recollections of turning the handle of a manual ice cream freezer. At some point, I asked someone if they had any idea where to buy one, and I was told to check with the local hardware store. As with most of the things I desire, it fell into the "want" category, and since "need" takes priority over "want," most of the time, I decided to delay further inquiry until I "needed" an ice cream freezer.

Last summer, just before the Third Annual RRN Bash, I felt I needed an ice cream freezer and began my quest for a hand-cranked model, once more. Upon discovering the price was in excess of $150.00, I elected to purchase a $20.00 electric model at Wal Mart. I wrote about that decision in a recent issue of RRN, and my wife, who proofs this newsletter, felt she had stumbled on the perfect birthday gift for me.

Married women have an innate ability to sniff out clues pertaining to things husbands desire. Most females limit their skill to their respective husband, but a few are able to discern these things for the husbands of others. If men have a similar ability or skill, I am not enabled with it. My wife claims she dropped hints for a pair of diamond earrings for more than ten years before the hint ever germinated. It's not that I don't listen, because I do listen, and I listen carefully and thoughtfully. I just don't listen for hints on how to spend more money.

My birthday fell on Thursday this year, and I was not expecting to receive a gift before the weekend. I figured my children would want their mom to wait until they were present for any birthday presents to be presented. So, when I interrupted my lawn care chores for a bite of lunch, I was surprised, pleasantly, to see a wrapped gift on the kitchen table.

I always try to guess the contents based upon the size of the box and its weight. In this case, the giveaway was the press-on sticker that bore the business name, "The Hardware Store." I had hardly picked up the box when I realized it was probably an ice cream freezer. I was like a kid at Christmas in that I could not get the wrapping paper off quickly enough. Sure enough, it was a White Mountain, hand-cranked model Ice Cream freezer.

Barbara said the clerks tried to talk her into purchasing an electric model, and some of her friends asked if she were trying to kill her husband. She smiled at all of them and explained she was just trying to buy her husband the model he wanted. (Actually, there were a couple of "models" in Victoria Secret that would have done nicely, but I understand they don't ship with or without the clothing purchase.)

With the exception of Billy Haney, my friends have had similar comments. Several asked me if I were crazy. Most folks simply do not understand that classic ice cream freezers like classic cars and classical music have their respective following, too. Billy Haney recognized the quality of the product and admired it; maybe he envied it. Billy remembers turning the crank a time or two in his younger years, as well.

In the first batch of homemade ice cream, I made certain that my almost four-year old granddaughter was on hand to sit on the bucket during the latter stages of cranking. I also made sure my son had a turn on the cranking side of the process. I was surprised at how quickly the mixture became frozen; though the literature explained that the wooden bucket insulates the salt/ ice mixture more thoroughly than do plastic containers. As far as the taste of the ice cream goes, I couldn't tell much difference in either freezing process, electric or hand cranked, but purely from an aesthetics point of view, the hand-cranked method is superior. However, the next batch may need to be processed on the back steps on a hot afternoon instead of in an air-conditioned kitchen, if I am to duplicate a childhood memory.

Got Milk Truth Sought

Truth in advertising is a good thing. An item pictured in an advertisement should be representative of how it might actually appear out of the box or can. For example, remember Campbell’s soups? Years ago, ads and can labels showing piles of vegetables in a bowl of vegetable soup were ruled as not depicting reality. I think glass beads had been used to lift the vegetables above the surface thus creating an inaccurate representation of the product. The Campbell Company responded quickly to correct the situation and pictures of today’s soup are more realistic.

These days, it would seem our truth in advertising laws need updating. Take the average representation of a hamburger offered at any fast food restaurant chain and compare it with the average product received in your fast food order and you’ll see what I mean. The ingredients may all be there, but it surely won’t look like the picture on the wall.

As I leafed through the latest issue of Progressive Grocer magazine a "got milk?" ad caught my eye. The ads have been around a few years, and I should have complained earlier. That which is supposed to be a ring of milk left on the upper lip of the mouth of the individual(s) in the ad, bears little resemblance to real milk, and it’s real milk the American Dairy Association would have us purchase.

As a child, my drink of choice was milk. Mom used to say I drank a gallon a day, though I doubt it. Given my youthful enthusiasm for a glass of milk, I figure I’m something of an expert on milk rings on upper lips. The rings I’ve seen in the "got milk?" ads don’t look real. They look painted on, and I don’t imagine milk served as the paint. Most likely it’s something whipped up by a makeup artist.

My advice to the Dairy Association is, "Get Real!" Otherwise, they may find themselves featured on Sixty Minutes.

Bodock Beau College Freshmen 2001

Lisa Rolik submitted the following. Much of the information has been on the list for the past few years. I have omitted parts of the original, in the interest of space.

Just in case you weren't feeling too old today, this will probably change things. Each year the staff at Beloit College in Wisconsin puts together a list to try to give the faculty a sense of the mindset of this year's incoming freshmen.

The people who are starting college this fall across the nation were born in 1983.

They have no meaningful recollection of the Reagan Era and probably did not know he had ever been shot.

They were 10 when the Soviet Union broke apart and do not remember the Cold War.

They have never directly feared a nuclear war.

They are too young to remember the space shuttle blowing up.

Tianamen Square means nothing to them.

Bottle caps have always been screw off and plastic.

The expression "You sound like a broken record" means nothing to them; They have probably never owned a record player.

They have likely never played Pac Man and have never heard of Pong.

They have always had an answering machine.

Most have never seen a TV set with only 13 channels, nor have they seen a black & white TV.

There have always been VCRs, but they have no idea what BETA was.

They cannot fathom not having a remote control.

They don't know what a cloth baby diaper is, or know about the "Help me, I've fallen and I can't get up" commercial.

Jay Leno has always been on the Tonight Show.

They have no idea when or why Jordache jeans were cool.

Popcorn has always been cooked in the microwave.

They have never seen Larry Bird play.

The Vietnam War is as ancient history to them as WWI, WWII and the Civil War.

They can't imagine what hard contact lenses are.

They don't know who Mork was or where he was from.

They never heard: "Where's the beef?", "I'd walk a mile for a Camel," or "De plane, de plane!"

They do not care who shot J.R. and have no idea who J.R. was.

Michael Jackson has always been white.

McDonalds never came in Styrofoam containers.

They don't have a clue how to use a typewriter.