Hot Diggity Dog

The Old Man loves a good hot dog.    I've had golf course hot dogs, baseball game hot dogs, backyard cookout hot dogs, hot dogs you ordered through a little take-out window, so-called "gourmet" hot dogs, cheap hot dogs, and the king of them all, a hot dog from a local legendary joint in Roanoke, Va. called The Texas Tavern.  I've eaten at such hot dog emporiums as, Willie's Weenie Wagon, Yum Yum's, The Texas Inn, The Varsity Grill, The Roanoke Wiener Stand, The Lynchburg Wiener Stand, and nameless push carts. I've had them at Grant's Grocery, Tyler White's Store, and Moore's Store where the chili revisited you for several hours, and in a couple of days made you feel like you'd sat on a cactus.    I've even fantasized about a cross-country trip where we would sample as many regional favorite hot dogs as we could manage.  But, I've never had a "bowling alley" hot dog.  And therein lies my story.

Sometime back, a Facebook page dedicated to those of us from our little home town of Bedford, carried a thread of conversation about a long-forgotten bowling alley there.  On a trip back there a few years ago, we ended up in a little gift shop.  The owner was explaining that there was a bowling alley up on the second floor.  She let us go up for a look-about.  Amazingly, it was just as if time had not passed.  Although it hadn't been used in years, if you tried just a bit, you could hear again the voices and clatters in your head.  For some reason, during my growing up years, either that bowling alley was not in operation, or I just wasn't in tune, but yet, there it was.  It really set me to remembering a story my mother told me.  A story about when hot dogs first came to Bedford.

Mom said that a "feller" she was dating before she met my dad would take her bowling.  When she told me this, my attention wandered for a minute.  Hearing your mom talk about dating someone other than your dad is kind of like hearing that Fats Domino has recorded the Hallelujah Chorus....it just doesn't seem quite right.
They would go bowling and from what I could gather, Mom was pretty good.  I think I recall that she won a couple of tournaments or such.  After bowling, they would go and find a "bite to eat".

One night, he said he had something new for "you, Miss Alma".  It's called a hot dog.  Being a sport and, I'm sure, wanting to impress, he made the offer, "I'll buy you all you can eat". So, Mom had at it.
I asked her, "How many did you eat, Mom?"  She said, "I ate five".  Then she giggled and said, "I cost that boy a whole quarter that night".

Here's to you, Mom....on my best day I couldn't manage five hot dogs.

I don't know whether the hot dog feast was actually in the bowling alley or not, but one of these days I'm going back.  And I hope someone will let me in there, because I'll have a bag of hot dogs with me, and I'll need a quiet place to eat and remember.

The Magic Touch

The Old Man is still sort of in the "Deltaville mood".  You will recall my ramblings about the fishing trip to the Chesapeake Bay.  Even with Milburn's sunburn, and the dog-tiredness of a bunch of kids running on soda and junk food, with little sleep, there was time to sit out under the Spanish Moss draped live oaks, and listen to that radio wonder-of-wonders, WLAC in Nashville, Tenn.  Late at night, its 50,000 Watt signal drilled through the dark and found its way to even little Deltaville.  Disk jockeys, Gene Nobles, "Hoss" Allen, and John R. "spun the platters and laid down the patter" until dawn.  It was on that trip that I first heard, "In the Still of the Night", the seminal song that gave Doo-Wop its name.  Listen to it carefully and you'll hear during a bridge, "doo wop shu waa".  That late-night signal faded in and out just enough to enhance the magic.  To this day, that song, more than most others, causes in me an inner transport to the hood of that car, drawn up in the yard of that ramshackle old house, where I lay stretched out dreaming teen-age dreams.

I found out that back on June 4th Herb Reed died.  Herb was a founding member of the '50's vocal group, The Platters.  If you can find a picture of the original group, Herb is the short fellow on the left end....he sang bass.  Along with Paul Robi, David Lynch, Zola Taylor, and the soaring tenor of lead singer, Tony Williams, The Platters created some of the most enduring and beautiful music of the era.  While many other artists of the day "rocked the house", The Platters sang love songs.  Their first hit was "Only You"....find it, and you'll see what I mean.  And I challenge you to ignore your feelings when you hear, "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes".

In Bedford, the Battalion had very limited access to hit music.  Our radio station, like most small town stations of that time had a wide variety of programming.  Everything from hog prices, to the location of the fire when the town siren went off, left precious little time for "our music".  Couple this with the general attitude of those pesky adults toward rock-n-roll, and we were a pretty deprived bunch.
There was, however, an island in the maelstrom for us.  A little radio/TV shop down on south Bridge St. sold 45 RPM records.  They had a couple of turntables and some headphones so we could actually preview the record we were considering.  That's how I found The Platters second hit, "The Great Pretender".

For nearly 400 records, Herb's booming and pure bass voice brought The Platters signature blend to life.  They're all gone now.....Paul, David, Zola, and Tony.  Life after The Platters took many turns for them, some good and some not so much.  But they left behind a legacy of pure beauty.  They indeed did bring to the music, "The Magic Touch".

Spanish Moss Aint

The Old Man has been banging around the Georgia and South Carolina coast for a couple of weeks.  We went goofing around Savannah, Jekyll Island, Charleston, and Myrtle Beach.  For the better part of my life, the coast has sucked me in like a 500 pound Electrolux.  My first trip to see the ocean was with Mom & Dad to Virginia Beach.   Fascinated me to no end, and since then I've been intrigued by anything having to do with the whole low-country thing.  Take Spanish Moss for example;  it didn't come from Spain, it isn't a moss, and it doesn't breed chiggers.  It's actually a relative of the pineapple family, and takes its name from the days when the French and Spanish were dueling over possession of the New World.  The French called it "Spanish Beard" as an insult to the Spanish soldiers.
See what I mean?
 Over the years, I've collected all sorts of interesting chunks of lore, obscure and bizarre facts, and lots of people just being people. I sometimes think I collect "characters" like  Lady Gaga collects 'strange'.
One old pal of mine loved beach trips.  Haven't figured out why....he seldom went out on the beach and preferred to stay in his room and sleep.  Another always longed for the beach, but when he was there, he complained about the sand, whined about the heat, and if he was lying on the sand, wanted to be in his chair.  Yep, you guessed it; when in the chair, he started getting restless to lay on the sand.  Dr. Phil would be in "shrink heaven" if he could have been a fly on the wall on some of these trips.

But one of my all-time favorite collectible characters was Milburn.  During the summer between 7th and 8th grade, a youth organization from our church took all of us boys on a fishing trip down to the Chesapeake Bay.  As I recall, we were around a little village called Deltaville.  I don't know what Deltaville is like now, but back then, it was pretty primitive.  We were staying in an old house that looked like a Norman Bates reject.  Spooky doesn't begin to describe the place.  Back in the woods....no electricity, grey clapboard and a porch that listed like Titanic at midnight.
Now, you have to understand, fishing to a kid in Bedford meant cane poles and dug-up worms.  Add a sinker and a bobber and we were in business.  All we needed was a pond.

The Chesapeake Bay gives new meaning to "pond".

Our little fishing boat (should have been named "The Minnow") pulled out at sunrise.  We learned a whole new technique of fishing.  Hand lines are a witch spelled with a capital "B".  Handled improperly, they can quickly make your fingers resemble pulled pork.  I learned some other valuable lessons that are with me still, but old Milburn will never forget the equation of "sun + salt water + bare feet = misery".  When he wasn't throwing cherry bombs overboard, he was happily splashing his feet.....all day long.  What could happen with all that nice cool water keeping the heat down, right?

Milburn finally got shoes on two days later.  That night you could hear him hopping through the yard toward the outhouse, yelping with each step.  I know he wanted to cuss, but it was a church group, remember?

I don't know what ever happened to Milburn, but my love for the coast has been a deep part of me ever since those few days in Deltaville.  Whenever we go, and I begin to see the occasional grey clapboard house, looking like one who has stayed too long at the prom, I know at a deep level, I'm home.

Thank You

The Old Man thanks the "Bedford Boys", and all who came before and after them who paid for my freedom.

Here Come de Judge, Here Come de Judge

The Old Man was a big fan of the TV show "Laugh-In" back in the '70s.  I think I remember that Sammy Davis, Jr, immortalized the "here come de judge" line in some of the skits.  "The Judge" has set up shop here in my town.  The media circus known as the John Edwards Trial is fully up to speed downtown.  I think there are more satellite trucks here than were at the Masters.  Coincidentally, today I got an e-mail that had me, as the saying goes, "LMAO".  I trust you will have a laugh-fest, my treat.

This is purportedly taken from a book titled, Disorder in the Court, and is represented to be taken from actual court transcripts.  Whether they are real or not, they are worth the laughter.

ATTORNEY: What was the first thing your husband said to you that morning?
WITNESS: He said , 'Where am I, Cathy?'
ATTORNEY: And why did that upset you?
WITNESS: My name is Susan!
____________________________________________
 ATTORNEY: This myasthenia gravis, does it affect your memory at all?
WITNESS: Yes.
ATTORNEY: And in what ways does it affect your memory?
WITNESS: I forget..
ATTORNEY: You forget? Can you give us an example of something you forgot?
___________________________________________
 ATTORNEY: Now doctor , isn't it true that when a person dies in his sleep ,
he doesn't know about it until the next morning?
WITNESS: Did you actually pass the bar exam?
____________________________________
 ATTORNEY: The youngest son , the 20-year-old , how old is he?
WITNESS: He's 20 , much like your IQ.
___________________________________________
 ATTORNEY: Were you present when your picture was taken?
WITNESS: Are you shitting me?
_________________________________________
 ATTORNEY: So the date of conception (of the baby) was August 8th?
WITNESS: Yes.
ATTORNEY: And what were you doing at that time?
WITNESS: Getting laid
____________________________________________
 ATTORNEY: She had three children , right?
WITNESS: Yes.
ATTORNEY: How many were boys?
WITNESS: None.
ATTORNEY: Were there any girls?
WITNESS: Your Honor, I think I need a different attorney. 

Can I get a new attorney?
____________________________________________
 ATTORNEY: How was your first marriage terminated?
WITNESS: By death..
ATTORNEY: And by whose death was it terminated?
WITNESS: Take a guess.
____________________________________________
 ATTORNEY: Can you describe the individual?
WITNESS: He was about medium height and had a beard
ATTORNEY: Was this a male or a female?
WITNESS: Unless the Circus was in town I'm going with male.
_____________________________________
 ATTORNEY: Is your appearance here this morning pursuant to a deposition
notice which I sent to your attorney?
WITNESS: No, this is how I dress when I go to work.
______________________________________
 ATTORNEY: Doctor , how many of your autopsies have you performed on dead
people?
WITNESS: All of them.. The live ones put up too much of a fight.
_________________________________________
 ATTORNEY: ALL your responses MUST be oral , OK? What school did you go to?
WITNESS: Oral..
_________________________________________
 ATTORNEY: Do you recall the time that you examined the body?
WITNESS: The autopsy started around 8:30 PM
ATTORNEY: And Mr. Denton was dead at the time?
WITNESS: If not , he was by the time I finished.
____________________________________________
 ATTORNEY: Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a
pulse?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: Did you check for blood pressure?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: Did you check for breathing?
WITNESS: No..
ATTORNEY: So, then it is possible that the patient was alive when you began
the autopsy?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: How can you be so sure, Doctor?
WITNESS: Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar.
ATTORNEY: I see, but could the patient have still been alive, nevertheless?
WITNESS: Yes, it is possible that he could have been alive and practicing
law.

Veteris Homo Scit Antiquis Verba

The Old Man knows some old words.  If my 50 year old exposure to Latin has not deserted me, that's what this title says.  I always stand proudly for correction if I've butchered the language.  I was comparing aches and pains with a friend of mine lately and somehow the conversation drifted around to some old words that neither of us could remember hearing in a long time.  So, in the interest of perpetuating the culture of my childhood, I present here a smattering of words and expressions that will allow you to get some knowing looks from us oldsters.

• Sinking spell....a sudden feeling of weakness or faintness.  Think Tiger Woods fumbling for his keys when he first saw a pitching wedge in his wife's hand.
• Lumbago...chronic pain in the lower back.  Originally coined because very few could actually spell "arthritis", or didn't know anyone named Arthur.
• Vapors... mental depression or hypochondria.  Not to be confused with noxious emissions while seated in Study Hall, but used in polite society rather than "He's nuttier than a pecan grove".
• Dropsy...retention of fluid in tissues, edema, swelling.  In most instances, not a good thing.
• St. Vitus Dance... a nervous condition causing involuntary muscle contractions and bodily jerking.  Probably gave rise to Riverdance.
• Touched...mentally unstable.  Usually accompanied by the phrase, "in the head".   This is a first cousin to the expression, "That boy ain't right".
• Shitpoke...not what you first thought. It rhymes with "kite".  European in origin, it was used to refer to a young, devilish imp of a child.  Dennis the Menace meets the Tasmanian Devil. "That little shitpoke put a tack in my chair".  
• Lespediza...a cover crop, related to the pea family, often planted to provide habitat for Bob-White Quail.  When riding through the country with old people, you would hear, "Look at that lespediza.  It'd be full of quail about now".
• Afflicted...used to cover most any physical abnormality.  "He couldn't throw the ball, he seemed afflicted".  No one was ever handicapped, they were simply "afflicted".

Many things have changed through the years.  Words and expressions come, stay for awhile, and then retreat into memory.  Perhaps some of the expressions here were forerunners to the concept of "political correctness" that drives our conversation these days, where no one is "short" they are "vertically challenged".  Back then, people weren't "crazy", they were "touched" either "a bit" or even "totally afflicted". 

 The Bob-White Quail are very rare these days, and that's a shame.  I guess not enough people are planting lespediza.

There's one more I've saved for last:

By-n-by...often used to signify eternity.  "In the sweet by-n-by we'll gather at the river, etc."  Also used to signify a much shorter period of time passage.  "By-n-by, old Wilbur dropped in".  

And so will The Old Man.

Gotta Tell Ya

The Old Man is officially back.  For the past three months, I've been pretty involved in a project.  Miss Martha had a total knee replacement and I have been her chief cook and bottle-washer for a goodly portion of that time.  I'm happy to report that she is making excellent progress and her recovery is right "on track".  She'll soon be able to outrun me once again.

She hasn't died from my cooking, and I haven't burned the house down, or rearranged the spice cabinet.  During this time of "self-discovery" for us both, I've made a number of observations.  Mind you, these aren't judgments....but rather a random list of things I had never really thought about.

• It takes a talent approaching rocket science to get the bacon, eggs, hash-browns, and toast all ready at the same instant.
• A little mayonnaise goes a long way.
• Instructions on a frozen biscuit bag: "Place on an ungreased cookie sheet 1/4 inch apart.  Biscuits rise better if they are touching".
• Those people on the Cooking Network are full of crap.  It's never that easy, or quick.
• Some days it's "Buy one-Get one Day" on idiots at WalMart.
• What the heck??? I just dusted yesterday.
• People who race through a store with a shopping cart fire me up like a gorilla on caffeine overload.
• Babies-R-Us doesn't sell much a guy would be interested in.
• Is there any really right way to load a dishwasher?

And one final observation:

• Martha Jackson is the bravest and strongest woman I've ever known.