WHEN JEFF COMES TO TOWN

Yes sir, ol’ “Fat” himself, Mr. Jeff Wilson from Killeen, TX, and famous for his “Fathairybastard” Blog came to see ol’ Mushy for a couple of days this week. This is his third trip and each trip seems to bring us closer together. He’s like a brother to me and I thoroughly enjoy his visits. As a matter of fact, I enjoyed his company so much this time that I followed him part of the way home, to Memphis, just to spend the best of three more days with him – but more on that in the next post!

Jeff got into town on Monday and we headed for the “Good Ol’ days Diner” for a quick lunch. Judy and I decided to feed him enough to get him to Ozone Falls and up on Black Mountain, and then on to Big Ed’s Pizza for supper! We weren’t about to let the boy go hungry!

Jeff loved the huge boulders upon on Black Mountain and promised to come back when all the copperheads were hibernating! However, we did get to the top of one overlook and walked beneath one of the rock over hangs where Indians camped long ago when on “long hunts”.

Finally, we got to one of the things he insisted we do again, and that’s visit Big Ed’s and share a pizza. Terri and Steve met us there and we really enjoyed ourselves over a pizza and beer feast. To our surprise, Big Ed has branched out is now offering a wider selection of draft beers – Fat Tire and Yuengling, to name a couple. What a difference variety makes in the world of beer! (There will be more on what we ate over the last few days on mushyscookings.blogspot.com, later in the week.) We split a couple of pitchers and then broke for my house again.

If there’s anything the boy likes more than pizza and beer, it’s sitting on my back porch with a cigar, a beer, listening to my tunes, and looking out over the lake. The screened porch is situated in such a way that you feel like you are high up in a big tree-house. This July has been unusually wet for East Tennessee and everything is still deeply green and clean looking. When the pollen subsides, I too like to sit our there as much as Judy does. She’s out there reading as I write!

Tuesday morning came and we met Neena and Ron at Mimis Cafe for breakfast. After a very satisfying meal, we broke into teams…the Dragons deciding to go shopping in Turkey Creek, while we, manly men, took off for Smoky Mountain Knife Works and Bass Pro Shops in Sevierville, TN!

As you can see Jeff was in hog-heaven at the knife store. I think he touched almost all of them and they got a lot!

So, with the shopping over, we headed back to Gander Mountain to kill time until it was time to meet the ladies, and my son Corey. We finally got to the third place Jeff made me promise to take him back to…Wild Wings Cafe! As Corey is fond of saying, there was plenty of “carnage” after the meal!

We wanted to drop by Steve’s afterwards and shoot Jeff’s M-16, but the rains came and forced us back on the porch. Only the smell of gun powder and sounds from yesteryear could have made the evening better. Like I said, the boy likes his cigars and if you note in one of these shots he has a big tooth pick stuck through the butt of a cigar. He’s “toking” that thing like it was a joint or something! I said something about tar, but he just says, “Dude, these things are expensive!”

Jeff bought the Colt AR-15 (M-16) just because it was early Vietnam vintage and looked just like the one I had in ‘Nam. Here’s a “then and now” shot for you viewing pleasure. No laughing or pointing out what is obvious either guys! I think the photo was worth the price of the firearm to Jeff, who took great pride in bringing a “piss-pot” for me to better re-enact the “mail room” shot from DaNang I had taken sometime in 1966.

Oh yes, if I don’t mention the gun anymore in the Memphis post, please remind me…it plays into another good part later! Of course, Jeff may mention it before me…so check his post out first…if he does I won’t rub it in any more!

Wednesday morning found Judy and I in our car headed for Memphis, with Jeff following along behind us. I was leading the way taking directions from the bossy lady in the GPS and we made it to Memphis in about five and half hours. We booked into the Westin, just a block from Beale Street and set out for our next adventures!

As Jim “Suldog” Sullivan is known to say… I’ll be back with “More better stuff!”

THE HARRIMAN HOOLIGANS

Recently I’ve been in touch with another “Harriman Hooligan”, as he likes to call his Class of ’64 buddies. His name is Mickey Jones, and he once worked for the IRS, but now does something along the same lines for the state. He was tight friends with Bob Hamby and Sid Stanley, and they ran around together in school. I was a friend to all but Sid, who I never really got to know well, but we got along.

Mickey and I lived a couple of houses from each other back in grade school, and we used to play some mean games of cowboy and Army. We loved to get together and play, but especially when we got our parents to take us to David Yeary’s over in Walnut Hill. David lived near a stretch of woods full of honeysuckle tunnels, and it was perfect for playing Army! Those were the days my friend, back when summers actually felt long, with perfect temperatures.

We lost contact, naturally, after high school until one day in 1967 when I got a call out of the blue from Bob, who explained that the trio was going to be in Nashville for the weekend. Basically, they wanted to party, but I think his real purpose was to show Mickey what it was like being in the Air Force! Mickey, as it turned out, had plans to join in the winter of 1969, which he did.

I had been promoted to NCO and had access to cheap fun at the NCO Club, so the party was on!

As I remember it, I was still in my “cock-of-the-walk” attitude, and living my life as a true Gemini! I had a little lady that lived near the base, but spent most of her time on the dance floor of the Airmen and NCO clubs. I also had a “hometown girl”, but they never knew about each other (not until one or both reads this anyway). My personality was 180 degrees at home from the wild party-boy at Sewart AFB, but I was young, could carry it off, and was reconnecting with life after a year of base restriction in Southeast Asia!

The months leading up to my marriage to Corey’s mom in March of ’68 were nothing but a party, with weekends off for rest back in my mild-mannered persona!

What I’m trying to say is…I was ready to party!

Billy Jean (not her real name) naturally accompanied us to the club and sat at the table with us guys – that is until the music started. She was then up dancing beside her chair!

Now, I sometimes danced with her, but more often than not I let her dance with guys that asked her. I was playing that “I don’t give a damn” game that drives some women crazy. They can’t figure out if you like them or not, but she was head over heals in love and did not, or could not, bring it up. It made her mad that I wasn’t jealous (or at least show it), but she was afraid to let it show.Like I’ve written before, I’m ashamed of how I treated her, but it was my great “split-personality”, indifference experiment and it worked like a charm for all those months.

As it turned out Mickey was a dancer too. He leaned over to me and yelled over the band into my ear, “Can I dance with her?”

“Sure,” not asking her opinion. I reached out and touched her arm and said, “Dance with man here!"

She looked at me for a couple seconds, with a hurt look, and then over at Mickey. They danced several times that evening, but the rest of the evening at the club is lost in whiskey and time.

I do remember driving Bill Jean home, too drunk to walk, but I could drive. As a matter of fact, we had to pass through a license check point of Tennessee State Troopers on the way. I remember rolling all the windows down, lighting up a Winston, and finding my license.

When the officer came to my window, I was holding up my license causally between two fingers. I said, “Catching many tonight?”

The officer didn’t say anything, just shined his light on my driver’s license and waved us on! Upon arriving at her house, I opened my door, and promptly fell out of the car!

As it happened, Mickey and I were both at DaNang, only 5 years apart! He worked to turn the airbase over to the South Vietnamese, and left after the transition in June of ’71.

We got together again, sometime after my divorce in ’78, and again partied at his house in Harriman. After that he followed his career to Nashville where he lives today. Maybe we can get together one day soon.

Thanks Mickey, for helping me remember that night, almost 42 years ago!

THE HARRIMAN CLASS OF ’64 RE-UNITES

Look at us, still just as young, slim, trim, and happy as ever…well, we’re all still the happiest and closest class ever to come out of Harriman (South Harriman) High School anyway!

Friday night, about 24 or so of us old classmates met at Jerry and Judge Gene Eblen’s (our host in easy chair) for a reunion of sorts. This group, with a few missing, has always remained very close. Everyone brought “finger foods” and the dinning room table and kitchen bar was overflowing with everyone’s favorite dishes.

Judy and I brought our famous pork tenderloin rolls, which disappeared in no time. There was everything from those to chocolate dip strawberries! What a selection!

Judy and I still run into several of our classmates like Jerry (pink top), Regina (white top) and Steve (a.k.a. Danny – fellow in the yellow shirt) Webster, Sandy Hooks (patterned top), and Donna McAbee (black top) at the grocery or Wal-Mart occasionally, and we also saw some like Ronnie Thornton (on left in table shot with rust colored jacket) and Bob Hamby (in glasses and a blue short sleeve shirt) at work, when we worked, in Oak Ridge. I run into Arty Austin (in the middle of table shot) at his liquor store “Cheers” occasionally, but for Donna Hood (brown shiny top), Patti Arp Henry (light blue top - David’s sister), Sid Hudson (seen in bathrobe standing next to Tom Hooks), David Arp (blue long sleeve shirt), Jim Hall (brown shirt-big smile), and Lee Childs (on right in table shot) it had been at least 24 years since we’ve seen them!

One thing about us, we still know how to party…’course we always did that well! I think our class is a little noted for that fact, and is probably why so many non-class members join our reunion parties!

Everyone mingled well, eventually getting round to each person and telling their favorite memories on each. Some of the ladies even discussed their crushes and old rivalries over the same guy!

Note the two photos of Judy and me with David Arp (long sleeved blue shirt). David is famous for being a main character in several of my tales, but particularly for being a member of the “Fight Club” and for getting Judy and me together at the 15^th Year Class Reunion.

I appreciated the fact that David came all the way from Sarasota, Florida to attend this gathering. It was a very nice surprise to see him.

And, it was also good to see Patti's husband Jim Henry (former state senator - black top with the Tennessee logo). He's always enjoyed our class shindigs!

The other picture of me is with Jerry, who was the girl I described in “My Two Best Halloweens” that wore the “fuzzy coat!” She is also the girl that hung the moniker “MUSHY” on me over 45 years ago! Strangely enough, she did not remember the historic incident.

[NOTE TO CLASSMATES – To view older posts, scroll down to the bottom and near the bottom of the sidebar you will see “Go Back in Time and Read My Earlier Posts”. You can find previous postings that way, or look at the very top and in the SEARCH field, type in things like “school”, (your first name), “fight club”, “Harriman”, and other related key words!]

MUSHY GOES TO COLLEGE

Besides the Walter Pulliam incident (last installment), and the resulting promise to myself to “never forget,” there were a couple of other things that motivated me to move on up the academic ladder, an area I knew entirely nothing about, and frankly made me very nervous.

One was First Lieutenant Summers, at Sewart, who once bragged to a bus load of us about his education and, basically, why we were subordinate to him. The comment instantly pushed me over the edge, (a temper I have since learned to control) and without fear of consequences, I blurted out “You just got there first! I’ll get my education after this crap is off my back. Just you wait and see!”

The other thing that motivated me was having to live with my in-laws! I wanted more and I wanted it as fast as possible.

Like I stated earlier, it had been five years since I had been to school, and probably that long since I had read a book! I suppose that was the reason I lacked 0.2 of a point in passing the SATs. Luckily, I was allowed to enter the University of Tennessee's College of Communications winter quarter of 1969 under “probation,” which meant I had to pass with a 3.0 (out of a possible 4) that first quarter.

Somehow, I made it past the first quarter, but I did not make it easy on myself.

First of all, some of you may remember that getting classes used to mean you had to “pull cards!” The cards were computer “punch cards” that were imprinted with specific classes scheduled at specific times. Today, computers automatically generate class schedules, and no one ever gets to enjoy a hot gymnasium with thousands of students pushing and shoving in long lines to get the perfect schedule!

I ended up with classes scheduled at 7:50 in the morning, and maybe nothing until 1 or 2 PM! This meant I had to wait hours between classes either in the library or in my hot car in a parking lot!

Commuting to Knoxville from Harriman, was at least a forty mile, one way, trip! I did this for three years, not taking the summers off, but after the first quarter I learned how to properly “pull cards” and get late morning classes and have the day over prior to 3PM.

The only problem I could not overcome was my senior year when group projects for final presentations were necessary. This meant I would attend class all day, and then have to go to some off-campus apartment, or house, to work on the team projects. People who lived on or near campus generally wanted to party a little then work.

You have to remember I had just given four years service to my country, and most of these “kids” were at least four years younger than me! I sometimes forgot that too!

However, with my temper as it was, I lasted about an hour and then I was forced to make a scene by demanding that “we” get to work. “You people don’t understand that after this late night meeting, I STILL HAVE A FIFTY MILE (Exaggeration added for emphasis!) DRIVE HOME!”

No, I probably was not popular, but who cared! You only get in life what you fight for anyway.

The best part of my college years was actually parts of the driving experience, strange as that may seem.

That first quarter I drove by myself, and if there is such a thing as “white line fever” I got it! Sometimes I did not even remember the trip, just that I was either at school or I had arrived home. If you have ever commuted for any distance, you will understand completely.

After that lonely and boring time, I began riding with Connie’s cousin Belinda and her husband Bill Powers. They were and are wonderful people and I still love it when I run into them somewhere.

Bill and I used to pretend we were flying my Mustang like it was an airplane! He would flip imaginary switches, to raise and lower the flaps or wheels, complete with sound effects, and I took off and landed us with all the drama and animations you would expect from me!

Belinda just sat in the back shaking her head and trying to read without helping us watch the road.

One day I had wrapped the seat belt, just the part sticking out the end of the buckle, around the bottom of the stirring wheel and was pretending the six-inch piece that was left over was the “stick!” I could move it slightly to the left and right and the car zoomed right along the Interstate.

However, when we arrived on campus and it came time to make a right turn the wheel would not turn! I slammed on the brakes and then remembered the belt round the bottom of the wheel! What an idiot! But we had fun and these are always some of the moments we recall when we get together.

Somehow, we all survived to graduate; Bill in ’71 and Belinda and I in ‘72. Bill became the principle of the junior high, Belinda became an English teacher, and I got a B.S. in Communications.

I set my sights on a career in advertising in Atlanta and becoming one of the “Mad Men” of the seventies, but that was never to happen.

PAPERBACK COMING!

Let me begin by saying that "The Laugh & Times of Mushy" is a compilation of blog post from this Mushy's Moochings. The blog was started in early 2006 with the express intention of leaving some documentation of "who and what" I am/was to my children and grandchildren.

I was thrilled to find out that my memoirs were of interest to many of you, and especially to those I have listed in my "blogroll," which is really a list of all the new friends I made while engaged in this project.

With that said, I want everyone to know that you should feel no obligation to buy the new "self-published" book. After all, you have been privy to the posts as they happened! Therefore, please do not get the impression I am pushing this off on you.

I have ordered a "proof copy" in hard cover to review. If I am pleased with what I find, then I will go back into Lulu.com and make a paperback version available, which should be at least half the cost of a hardcover issue.

Unfortunately, the hardcover issue is available for $35.23 now, but, like I say, it has not been proofed, and a cheaper copy is forthcoming. That sounds like a lot, but think about it, where else can you get a final version copy of a single book one copy at a time? It cost money to provide that capability!

Inside, you will find 104,256 words, 290 pages, made up of over 118 chapters, many of which were posted here.

I will make a whooping $2.25 from the sale of each hard copy, which isn't much, but that is the nature of the game. The revenue from the paperbacks, will probably be half that! So, you can see that you would have to sell a "crap pot" full of them before making a fortune!

Incidentally, I have had "Cross+Hairs" out there for almost 2 years and I recently received $12.23 from Lulu, revenue from all the sales (most of which were mine) up to now! Man, what should I buy with that kind of cash?!

Anyway, I wanted you all to know that the choice is yours - I'll love you regardless!

Thanks for your faithful following here!

IF you so wish, please link to my "The Silverbacks" page. Although it is presently "adult humor" oriented, I will also post other items there from time-to-time, but I will no longer feel the pressure to post on a regular basis.

Thanks!

61 FREAKING YEARS AGO TODAY!

I was born at home in my great grandfather's bed, after mom grew tired of waiting on me at the hospital. She left and went home and I arrived that night. Dad gave ol' Doc Cotton a five dollar bill for his trouble. Ain't been worth much since!

AN INTERVIEW WITH MUSHY

Ok...I don’t usually play, but Kuanyin flew me all the way to Maui and asked me in such a nice way that I could not resist letting her interview me. She started this over at her “tame blog” called WHO’S YO MAMA? Why not check her out!

You already know her as the Blog-Blond, her friskier blog, but you might begin to think she’s normal as “Who’s Yo Mama?”

So, she asked:

1. Would you like your spouse to be both smarter and more attractive than you?

In many ways my wife is smarter than me…oh, I’m the one with the college degree, but when it comes to common sense and financial matters, she has the edge.

Looks? She has that edge too…always has! I remember the first time I ever saw her – those eyes burned my very soul and I wished then and there that she would be mine for all time. However, it took me another 18 years to get back to my senses.

2. When did you last sing to yourself? Dance by yourself?

Oh, I always sing to myself while listening to either an MP3 or satellite radio in the truck. Strange, but when I’m alone I’m great – better than Sanjaya, but when just one other person enters the area I get “all pitchy dawg!”

Sometimes I’ll do a little ditty to the tunes on “American Idol”, or even to a commercial just to get my wife to laugh. Yeah, it’s that bad!

3. Your house, containing everything you hold dear catches fire. After saving your loved ones and pets, you have one last point to safely re-enter your home to save one item. What would it be?

I suppose I’d have to run back and pluck my external HD from the computer table – it has all of my photographs backed up. The fire can have the rest – it’s all just “things” that can be replaced, but photos of your life and loved ones could never.

4. Whom do you admire most, and how does this person inspire you?

This is a hard question for me…I do not know any one person that holds all the things I admire in people, or the values that I aspire to uphold.

I have always loved the kind of men Chuck Yeager, John Kennedy, Abraham Lincoln is and was. Don’t ask me why, just that they have meant something to me and if I could meet anyone in history, these three stand out.

Of course, there is my son, Corey. I have admired his strength in working with children, singing, and witnessing in church, and the way he seems to draw people to him. I asked God to give him that strength and He has twofold.

Then there is Yosemite Sam…”I’m a steppin’!” he said as he walked across a line drawn in the sand by Bugs. Strong conviction and nothing stopped him from doing what he thought was right – not even a "Dirty razzlefracken varmint rabbit!”

5. Would you like to be famous, and if so, how?

The only notoriety I have ever fantasized about has been the possibility of publishing “Cross+Hairs” – a better “Cross+Hairs” with no typos and maybe in movie script format. It’s really about me in a lot of ways – like any writer, it’s my baby!

Otherwise, I like being little ol’ Mushy, in my little ol’ life, in my little ol’ town. It’s what was given to me and I love it – wouldn’t change a thing!

SHUT YOU’RE BIG MOUTH MUSHY – PART 2

Do you remember that post? Click here for a refresher!

Well, she got her stuff today and was she ever in “hog heaven!” Look at’er…ever seen anyone so happy.

It was beautiful stuff, I’ll have to admit, and very comfy…I considered sleeping out there tonight.

Can you believe it was 76 degrees today…it’s spring time in our backyard!

As the night started closing in, there were tree frogs and lake frogs trying to out croak each other. The geese came in and cackled warnings at each other, while a duck expressed its frustrations with another. In the nearby woods I heard either a squirrel coming noisily home late through the darkness, or an anxious doe about to enter the grassy area between the lake and us to graze. But the cou’de gra was when two Barred Owls acknowledged each other across the TVA easement, between the lake and the creek to the west of our property.

All this can only mean it will be a glorious spring with life pouring forth all around us.

IMAGINE THERE IS NO RELIGION

Man has always and will always kill each other over differences in religion. There is no escaping that fact. No matter how hard we pray for peace or victory over those that oppose us, we will always mistrust and hate others for their beliefs.

I do not discuss differences in religion anymore, looking instead inside for the basic faith, not caring what the differences are. It makes no sense to argue the fine points when we all love and worship the same God. With the exception of Hindus and Buddhist (at least as far as I can tell), the Christian, the Jew, and the Islamist worship the same God.

Who are we to interpret God’s mind – it is impossible. Therefore, since we will not know the truth until we are in His presence, why do we insist on thinking we are the only ones with the right interpretation.

I remember as a young boy asking a playmate about him being a Catholic. He could not tell me much, not really knowing the ideals of his parent’s church. However, I knew that during the week he cussed like a sailor on shore leave, but after Saturday or Sunday Mass he seemed somewhat reserved until mid-week. Confessional seemed to bring the importance of being “Christ like” back in his demeanor for a few days.

He also called everyone he did not like a “FARMER,” which must have meant something really bad to him, but since my grandparents were “farmers” the phrase did not seem very demeaning to me.

My mother is Catholic, having married a Scot-Irish immigrant after my father died. Through this marriage I have a stepbrother who is a priest. I have learned quite a lot about their particular faith since then.

I also remember spending long evenings and early morning hours, sitting in my friend’s ’49 Chevy pickup, smoking cigarettes and discussing the finer points between the Baptist and Church of Christ faiths. He argued his church was the proper church since it was named for Christ, while mine was named for an area of our town! He also thought his was better because they did not use musical instruments in their services.

I suppose there were times when in frustration, had I been a half-bubble off, I would have wanted to smash both of those guys! However, I did not and would not. I have grown very tolerant of people and their faiths. I simply do not care about your faith – no – that is not true! I do like to hear different viewpoints, finding them very entertaining and enlightening. I just do not care that you have a different opinion. If it is the one god, then all is fine. We will find out the truth, standing side-by-side one day, and we will feel ashamed we tormented and killed each other over something so trivial.

I suppose Lennon had it right about the world being better off if there were no religions or borders, but it is a pipe dream. Only the second coming could ever make that happen, but it is nice to imagine sometimes.

UPDATE ON SHOULDER OPERATION

I’m in a lot of discomfort, but most from the prostatitis I developed from the anesthesia. I haven’t had much time to think about my shoulder, although very sore, because of running to the bathroom every 10 minutes the first 4 days after surgery. I was getting little sleep. I finally went to the ER and after WAITING three hours got some antibiotics and Flowmax working. I’m now exercising my shoulder as I should have been all along.

The photo at right shows the four holes they poked in me…PB is for Paul Brady – the doctor marking the correct shoulder for surgery.

I’ll be back soon – but it’s very hard to type.

I SAY GOODBYE, YOU SAY HELLO

In case you care, communication with me and from me may be infrequent over the next couple of weeks. I go in for the following procedure tomorrow morning – please keep a good thought!

It is outpatient, so as soon as the drugs wear off and I feel like typing with one hand (my left), I’ll be back. However, if I do come back before the effects wear off…please forgive me for anything I may say or post!

In the meantime, entertain yourself with pictures of my big chunk of the world at FLICKR.

SHUT YOUR BIG MOUTH, MUSHY!

Ms. Mushy and I spent a beautiful 70-degree day in East Tennessee shopping for new “patio” furniture. Well, in truth, it will go on our screened-porch, but they do not call furniture that, do they!

Anyway, she started out “loving” some little rickety set with fluffy pillows in a very light flowery color that was only $400.

Of course, being the logical and practical man that I am, I pointed out how unsafe and cheaply made it was, how the screws would fall out of it the first time it’s used by our well feed family, how it would rust the first damp day, and how the pollen and dust would stain and dull the colors this spring.

At another store, I pointed out the quality points of some “recycled plastic” Adirondack styled chairs and matching table with stainless steel hardware and screws. Of course, as soon as she saw the $1600 (sale) price for the 3-piece set, she moved on to some more spindly flowered stuff and sat down, coaxing me to “…sit down and try this – it’s comfy!”

“Okay, but this will never be unaffected by sun, rain, snow, even chlorine and saltwater year ‘round,” I said as I sat down.

She finally found one thing she was wanting in a wicker double lounger, with a 6” foam cushion, in which the two of us could get lost for hours! “It’s only $700,” she said with no exclamation point. My only comment on this, since I really liked it, was that it did not solve our family visitor seating and pieces for sunrise breakfasts for two in the spring.

I suppose, in the back of my mind I was trying to discourage any purchases. We already have pretty nice furniture, albeit it doesn’t match and has served us well for over 5 years.

However, since I could not just keep my mouth shut, I am now obligated to consider all the higher priced furniture, including more seating and the plastic and resin table set! She agreed saying, “You’re right, we don’t need to spend good money on cheap stuff!"

Me and my big mouth!

Pictures coming in the spring.

WHITE OAK SINKS HIKE

Saturday’s forecast was for snow, so we decided to hike along the School House Gap Trail in the Smoky Mountains and then veer left off onto the lesser traveled, and unmarked, White Oak Sinks Trail. We had been on this trail before, but because we had already done a six-mile run, we turned around and headed back without tackling the steep climb into and out of the “Sinks” valley. However, Saturday, a visit to the valley floor was our express goal.

School House Gap is a steady climb of between 20 and 30-degree grades in its self, but its nothing compared to what is to come. Once you leave the wide trail and start out along the footpath trail of White Oak Sinks, you soon come to where the path splits and both take you to the top of a mountain rim that rings a small valley below.

The left fork of the footpath takes you to steep decent of between 30 and 50-degree grades, and the path meanders for nearly a mile to the valley floor. The right fork takes you to the top of a mountain backdrop for the falls and ends at a steep drop off of between 60 and 70-degrees.

We decided the steep climb out near the falls would be brutalizing, but the quickest way out of the valley. As you ascend the dirt, rocks, and roots to the top, you are literally moving on your hands and feet – it is that steep! My chest heaved as I grasped for saplings, clinging while I recovered. I moved up the hill at a snails pace, but once I was on top, drank some water, and hacked my lungs free of mucus, I recovered and moved on, rewarding myself with the thought that I had avoided the mile longer agony of the other trail.

Years ago, several families lived in the valley and the story goes that the children walked up out of the valley each day to walk on to the school in Cades Cove. Once you have climbed out of the valley once, you have a great respect for these children.

The valley now is beautiful, with rocky outcrops at two ends, a cave where bats are protected by a steel grid guarding their home, boar traps can be seen in different locations, and a spectacular falls that disappear into the mouth of a cave. The icicles that decorate the falls this time of year make it worth the hike effort.

Check out how we recovered at Mushy's Cookings!

See you on the trail!

SMILING OAK

Did you ever walk through the woods, especially near where there was once an old homestead and see a smile on an old oak tree?

A tree, especially an oak (any variety), has a strong will to live. It can it smile in the face of pain and live to be over 200 years old. It will always have that scar, but it remembers the pain no more.

Many years ago, some farmer decided he would clear-cut an area for planting. So, he notched the trees intending to come back later to fell them with another deep cut in the opposite direction. For some reason, the farmer decided not to cut, or over looked, this particular tree and let it stand. Over time the mighty oak grew and put bark further and further out into the cut. Until all that was left is this smile to remain us that we too can overcome great adversity.

I found this one on the UT Arboretum property during a walk this week. It is a nice place for a quiet walk, and if you forget the name of a tree (like the Chinese Fir pictured), no problem – they are labeled.

Regretfully, the great American Chestnuts were not as robust – only their stumps remain. The Chestnut blight wiped them all away by 1950.

Stand strong, face what live sends your way, and strive to live on like the mighty oak. Show the world your smile!

I'LL BE COMFORTABLY NUMB!

GUESS WHO IS GETTIN' TICKETS?



Ol' Mushy is going to do something else he has wanted to do for years - SEE ROGER WATERS IN CONCERT! (fingers crossed) It is just another thing off my "Things to do before I die list!"

The video clip above features Doyle Bramhall II and Snowy White. However, Bramhall will not be with Roger on this tour. It is a shame because he was brilliant with the licks during the “In the Flesh” tour. Doyle, with his casual gum chewing while dueling with Snowy during the Comfortably Numb and Mother numbers, made it look so easy to play!

You may remember Bramhall from his time with band The Arc Angels, another little blues band from Texas.

While David Gilmour is a great guitarist, his licks are by the book, as written, and do not show any fresh spark of creativity. Bramhall’s time with the blues inspires his licks that lose none of the original intent.

Most recently, Doyle played with Eric Clapton on the Sessions with Robert Johnson CD/DVD.

Keep your fingers crossed that the ticket situation ROCKS out for Mushy – sales begin March 3rd! With or without Bramhall, it will be a wonderful music experience.

MARK REMEMBERS THE FEAR

As a follow-up to “Just This Side of Total Fear” (posted on October 3, 2006), my cousin Mark sent me this email. He and I just met again after 20 or 30 years (see post below) and I asked him to read this post and verify the details. Turns out, my memory was “spot on” except that I originally, thought it was another cousin. Mark is the gentleman in the beige sport coat, back row, with my hand around his neck. He writes:

Mushy (not my real name),
You are right-I think we both grew up some that night. I have seen some foggy nights since then but that was a surreal experience for us. I remember we met an ambulance coming out from Lawrenceburg. That must have been around 1963 or 64. Hardly a foggy night passes that I do not recall that night.

I remember the Mockingbird Trailer Park and visiting yall there.

Now, I’m going to test your memory. Do you recall letting me try your new bow and arrow. That must have been one of the craziest, most dangerous, stunts I ever pulled (on purpose that is). Talk about not thinking something through. Do you remember me shooting that arrow straight up? We would run as fast as we could to avoid the risk of being hit when it landed! How did we ever survive? I’m laughing now but it sure wasn’t funny then as I recall.

By the way - I never did know - did you ever find that arrow? (BTW, I did not.)

On a more positive side-what fun we had when we were at Grandmother’s for holiday meals (usually Thanksgiving or Christmas with a rare Easter or 4th of July).

You can probably remember chipping the ice, mixing it with the salt and turning one of those old White Mountain ice cream makers. I don’t know if I’ve ever had ice cream since those days that tasted as good as it did back then. What do you think?

Some of my fondest memories of Grandmother was when I mowed her yard. I was 10-11 years old. That yard looks small today but back then it seemed as big as a football field. And mowing with a 20 or 22” push mower meant several hours since I mowed the side yard too
(another lot just south of the lot her house was on) just to keep the critters (snakes and field mice) at bay. The good thing about mowing that side lot was it wasn’t landscaped with a prodigious amount
of petunias as the house lot-so I didn’t have to take care to move those creeping petunias.

I doubt I ever truly appreciated petunias until after Grandmother passed on.

The rewards were always there though. After cleaning up after the hot and dusty chore, I’d drink what seemed like a quart of ice water. That water didn’t have any added fluoride or chloride - it came from a hand dug well-that was some great tasting water. I imagine that well is condemned now as most others are.

Usually, there was time for a nap. Most of July and August it was in the 90’sF but with an old oscillating floor fan creating a steady breeze - I could “sleep like a log.” In the late 50’s, central air conditioning just hadn’t made it all the way to Lexington, AL yet. Of course, we didn’t miss what we didn’t know about though. As I recall, it was 1961 when our family first had a central unit.

Typically, after a refreshing nap, I would awake to a real treat! Sometimes it was coconut or chocolate cake sometimes it as caramel, sometimes lemon, but most often it was my favorite, homemade chocolate pie and a tall glass of sweet milk! Mmmmmm!

I could go on for a while about that pie but I don’t think there are words in the dictionary to adequately describe how good it was. I always made sure to tell Grandmother I thought it was the BEST!

I don’t expect I’ll ever find a better treat - but I’ll always have these memories!

What an age of innocence compared to the way some children are raised today.

Talk with you later.
Mark

YOU JUST CAN'T BEAT FAMILY!

My cousins and I (on my mother’s side) helped celebrate my Uncle Tom’s 70th birthday this weekend at Elk’s Club in Florence, Alabama.

I have not seen most of these cousins in more than 20 years, but we had not missed a step and had a great time reminiscing together. As you look at the photo, you may only see maturing faces, but to us we were all still playing in yard at Grandmother Williams’ house. I did not see the age in our eyes, but young faces running, screaming, and teasing each other as we always did. The youth will never fade from our memories, nor will our love for each other.

We only have my Mom, my Aunt Nell, and my Uncle Tom left out of the original elder family, and we cherish every moment we have with them. Also, we still have Aunt Audene and Uncle Lee who married into our family, and they make gatherings special as well.

Several cousins were missing, a couple sick, a few had to work, and some lived too far away. However, next time, we hope to see everyone together again.

There is nothing better than family!

THE MOCKINGBIRD

Does anyone out there remember the Mockingbird Trailer Park (Court), in Florence, Alabama, that was a thriving community in the late 50s and early 60s? I think Fred Bevis owned the court and all the surrounding land.

I doubt anyone comes forward; it has been too long ago, and I was by the area not too long ago and it is not there – just some condos.

My family moved there when I was in the sixth grade, probably 1958 or so, and back again in 1961, when I was a sophomore. My dad and most of the families that lived there worked at either Wilson or Wheeler Dams, or the Colbert Fossil Plant for TVA.

The first time, the trailer park was brand-new and a very exciting place to live. The park had its own grocery store and gas station, barber and beauty shops, a laundry mat, a park with picnic tables, swings and slides, and a swimming pool.

The trailer spaces we evenly spaced and had concrete runways with high-wind tie down anchors for each house trailer. There was a little grassy yard in front, convenient water, sewer, and power hookups.

This was the best trailer park that we ever lived in and it holds fond memories for my entire family.

I learned to swim in the pool, play Marco Polo, do fancy dives, and bond with several kids my age.

I remember that once a pipeline installing crew moved temporarily into the park, only staying a few weeks, and my dad caught one of the dirty crewmembers bathing in the pool. My dad chewed on the guy pretty good, telling him that “my kid swims in that water” and that it was not for bathing! It never happened again.

I remember that a Mockingbird lived in a cedar tree near the pump and filter that would swoop down and pull your hair if you got too close to its nest in the spring. I hated that bird and tried unsuccessfully several times to kill it.

The owner’s son was the unofficial lifeguard and in charge of the pool. He organized a spring clean-up crew every year to bleach and paint the pool and get it ready for summer. I enjoyed this work and learned a lot about organization and delegation of duties from this Florence State student.

I also remember they used to put a railroad tie in the water to keep it from freezing during the winter. I once found something else floating in that water…a baseball glove my maternal grandfather gave me for my twelfth birthday. I still have the glove, but it was never quite the same after the thief tossed it.

It snowed that first winter, yes, even in Alabama, and I loved it! I did not want anyone walking through my yard and making it melt. I attributed footprints to aiding the snow to melt, and protected it from the other kids. They saw that I had a sore spot and picked at me, threatened to run through the yard, and when I made a snowball, they ganged up on me and began pelting me some of their own.

Not to be out done, I loaded my next round with a core of rocks. As soon as they started across the yard I threw as hard as I could – and missed!

“Crack!” The snowball hit our living room window and the rock continued inside.

My dad was immediately out the door and into the yard. “Who threw that,” he demanded. “Tell me!”

I looked around, but everyone else had long since disappeared. “I did sir,” I said, my lips already beginning to quiver.

There was the familiar sound of leather slithering from grey khaki work pant loops, and me already whimpering “No daddy! I didn’t mean to! They were in the yard, daddy, messing up the snow! Please daddy! Momma!”

That night I learned that I did not own the yard or the snow in it – daddy did! However, I became the proud new owner of a large living room window.

MY SINS COME BACK TO HAUNT ME

The sin of pride has separated me, to a degree, from my son and my granddaughter. His mother and I divorced when he was only four years old and his loss still cuts me to the core.

My son’s mother and I have long since forgiven each other for the mutual pain we inflected, and we have moved on with our lives and found wonderful people with which to share our lives. However, my pain remains.

I missed so much in his early life, and just in the last few years regained some since of a relationship with him. Oh, I hung on the fence and watched him play, made pinewood derby cars with him, picked him up each Friday afternoon, and watched him graduate numerous times, but the little things is what I missed. I missed birthday parties, watching him mature, watching him interact with his friends, and things he did vocally and with the youth at his church. I missed his friends and girlfriends seeing me as “his dad.”

Oh, people know I am his father, but they do not know me and accept me as part of his life. I am an outsider, whether I have caused it or not, I am still not comfortable in certain aspects of his life. His world is a separate world from mine. It is probably just me. I have never wanted to horn in where I am not invited. I cannot change what is in me – it would take years on a “leather tufted couch” to overcome the personally held mores I have built up over the years.

I ache to see him sometimes, or to hear from him, yet, because it is in me to be this way, I cannot, at times, force myself into his life. I have no clue why not…it is just the way I am.

I ache to see my granddaughter too, but I really do not know my son or my daughter-in-law well enough to just drop in, or invite myself over as often as I would like. Instead, I make appointments to see her, and yes, to see him.

I sat yesterday trying to drink in as much of their faces, their smell, their movements as possible, but as soon as I left the memory began to fade. I know I take too many photos when I am there, but it is an attempt not to forget and to hold part of them close to me longer.

I will always pay the price for letting my failure take them away.

What Mushy gives back to you today is – work at it! You lose a whole lot more than a woman, your things, and your money – you lose the closeness of children and grandchildren and involvement in their lives for a lifetime.

One thing has gotten me through the tough times - I thank God for Tracy and Katie Bug (my stepdaughter and older granddaughter). They have been God’s blessing on me and they have filled a void in my soul. They make it possible for me to bide my time between visits.