It was 3:30 in the morning. I was in a dead sleep. The spousal unit was shaking me, in a flustered panic. I slowly opened one eye at a time, to focus in on a woman that was red with rage. I did a quick flashback to try and remember what I might have done to her in the past 24 hours. Coming up empty, I said "Yes?"
She was in the bed, on her knees, leaning toward me. She said, in a very emotional state of mind, "Do you know what your son has been up to for the last 2 hours???" I mumbled, "no, but I guess I'm about to find out." And then she began:
"I was in the middle of one of my dreams, and Oscar woke me with his barking. I looked around the room, and he wasn't in here. I get up, go into the living room, and there is Morgan, trying to bribe him with your dog treats. Oscar wasn't interested in any treats, just kept barking. I sat on the couch, trying to calm Oscar down, but to no avail. I suggested to Morgan that he look outside, to see if there was something out there that might have stirred this dog up. Morgan went to the door, looked outside, and said "nothing there". He calmly shut the door, which, by the way, always sticks. Problem is, I never heard him open the door. Hummm. Morgan then proceeded to go to his bedroom, with Oscar now in tow, still barking.
Morgan shut his door, not allowing Oscar to come in. I told him to let Oscar in, maybe that would calm him down, I walked to the door, opened it, and in rushed Oscar, who began sniffing at the closet door. Morgan was sitting on his bed, a futon. I took one look at him, saw the closet door was closed, and knew immediately, that something was up. I said, ok bucko, what is going on! Morgan, with his legs all folded up, looked down into his lap, and said "girls".
I rushed to the door, jerked it open, and in the closet floor, in the fetal position, were two young girls! I read them the riot act and threatened to call somebody! They had gotten bored, called Morgan, then decided to walk two miles and come for a visit. BUSTED!
They left, I had a good talking with your son. Now, what are you going to do!?????"
By now, I am fully awake. I have taken this all in, and I now have my pillow stuffed in my mouth to control my laughter, but it ain't working. She then yells "what's so damn funny?"
I reply, "well, do you know what this makes Oscar?" She said "what?" In my most serious facial expression that I can come up with, I say, "He's an official cock hound"! With that, we both have a good laugh!
To this day Oscar dog gets all the dog treats he wants, because you never know when there will be two girls in MY CLOSET!
Retired in 2012. I'm trying to out run old age and boredom. So far, I'm winning the race!
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Catfishing.....
Every now and again I will be an unsolicited friend request on facebook from a total stranger. I'll look at their page to see what the connection could be, and I figure out that its a brand new account, and someone is "catfishing", that is, pretending to be someone else, and using profile pictures and information from some unlucky person that is real.
I decided to take it a step further with one of these "catfishers" and see what I could get out of them. I doubt very seriously that "Jessica Long" is a real person, and may not even be female.
You decide:
I decided to take it a step further with one of these "catfishers" and see what I could get out of them. I doubt very seriously that "Jessica Long" is a real person, and may not even be female.
You decide:
4:10pm
4:50pm
my religion: I was born and raised Catholic, but have not attended church since I was a teenager (other than the occasional wedding or funeral) .
my education: I attended Lakeview Elementary School in Bloomington and Bloomington High School South 1965 S Walnut St, Bloomington, Indiana 47401 and The University of Texas School of Nursing in Houston , where I got my most precious education. I've always desired to play the keyboard, Piano and Organ, but never practice any of it since I left down here on this assignment
favorite hot spots: Even though I stink at it, I would love to go dancing (as long as you don't laugh!). I would also love to enjoy a pint at favorite Irish pub. Going to Boston would be fun as well. I would love to explore Europe some day hopefully in the future.
favorite things:
believe so completely in each other, and Love each other so completely, that we will trust without hesitation as well....You should know that I feel like we could make it, I mean really work! Of course there will be our ups and downs before meeting each other but we’ll always make it through....I truly believe in the communication factor. It’s always been the answer to a healthy and successful relationship because communication is very important on date..
I am a lovingly touchy person. I like to hold hands, hug and kiss when appropriate... I like open affection, but in good taste, not for affection sake. I love to look into my loved one's eyes, and often get accused of starring... But I stare at flowers too, they never complain that I could look at them from when the blossom until they fade away... I like being touched too. Held and having my hair played with... I like simple things, not complications and overbearing...
I want my soul mate to be my best friend, so I can always talk with him, and my other friends all accept and love him too, that he can accept and love them back. Life is so short, why do people
Highlights from Atlanta
After dropping the spousal unit off at the hospital, I headed back to the Interstate 85. I get to the on ramp and we are at a stop waiting for a green light for me to merge into Atlanta Interstate traffic. There are two stop and go red/green lights on the on ramp of the interstate. Later, there are 20 cars lined up for drive thru coffee, backing up traffic into oncoming traffic. WTH..?
Shopping:
With so little to do, while the spousal unit is hospital room sitting, I ventured out to the Lenox Mall. We have always found a bargain or two there, and today was no exception. I found theses Tervis 16 oz. glasses for $5.49, regular $18 at Macy's. My friend Susan K. will be pleased.
I left Macy's in search of more bargains. As I was walking through the mall, something caught my eye. This elderly woman was sitting on a bench, watching time pass her by, and only God knows what else.... Mere words cannot adequately describe the burning sensation that was put upon me from this photo:
Once I got over this sighting, my eyes were better able to focus in on the search for something else. Casual browsing came up with nothing. I then spotted the Brookstone Store. Back home,
my Brookstone clock that shines a red light on the ceiling with the time and temperature was on its last leg. Just bought a replacement that shines a "blue light" instead. Hoping I don't get paranoid with blue and think the "popo" is coming to arrest me for indecent exposure!
Needing a break, I spotted the Mall sign pointing out the public restroom, down by Neiuman Marcus. This particular facility was some what small, having only on urinal, and two toilets. One stall was already occupied, so I took the other. I usually go for the handicapper crapper, but there wasn't one in this unit. I'm now at that point where its time to sign some papers, but oh boy, no paper to do my homework on, no seat covers, and the guy in the next stall has on some of those funny looking shoes, and is making weird noises. What to do, what to do??? Finally decided to do the hit and run. I squeezed my butt cheeks together, hit the door, and ran to Macy's to finish what Mother Nature had started!
Collection Box:
I pulled up to a gas station to fill up the tank, and noticed a clothing collection box:
This sucker is for a "for profit" Company. Only in a city like Atlanta, will you find this kinda thing. There is no tax deduction for items placed in this box and the items donated are sold for a profit!
Ikea:
Yesterday I went to Ikea to find some chairs for my friend Jessica G, who lives in Tampa. The Orlando Ikea had a back order on the chairs she wanted, so what the heck, I've got the time. Got there early, So I had to endure the smell of those dang cinnamon rolls baking. You can smell them when you come in, and they are at the exit, just enticing you to come get some. My resistance was strong on this particular day.
I had a picture of the chair on my smartass phone and also the model number. Not wanting to send a lot of time searching, I approached several Ikea employees for help. One of them, a black girl, offered to look for the chair in their computer system. She commented to me on how much she liked my outfit. On this day, I had on shorts, Hawaiian shirt, and of course, my flip flops. She giggled and said that I looked like her Dad! I asked, "was he white"? We both got s big laugh outta that one. At least she was a Georgia bulldog!
Lumber Yard:
A buddy of mine messaged me, as we were driving to Atlanta, that he wanted a cooler box, but built out of cypress rather than the treated pine that I have been using. I found a lumber yard over here that stocks all kinds of wood products, but especially cedar and cypress. Only 20 minute ride, so what the heck. Placed my order, and as I suspected, it was quite pricey, but a whole warehouse full. Told them where I was from, and what I was doing with the wood, and almost had two more sold on the spot. Shoulda brought my cordless drill and table saw with me, dadgum it! Turns out, one of the salepeople has a daughter that will be attending Ole Miss in the fall. Traded some small talk and invited him to tailgate with us this fall. You never how small the world really is.
Got the wood all loaded up, then called the spousal unit. Her first questions were: expensive? and did it fit. Kiddingly, I told her she was gonna have to either ride on top of the car or on the rack on the back. Never fear, I will always make room for that woman!
Da Pecking Order
Been married to the spousal unit for over 30 years. She is my best friend, the love of my life, and the best mother two boys could ever ask for. She wasn't built for speed, but she can outlast the best of you and me when it comes to dancing, riding roller coasters, and staying till the very last second of every Ole Miss game that she has attended. We were both in homes of modest incomes and have always tried to give our boys way more than we ever got.
Her body has not been able to keep pace with her throughout the years. During the birthing years, seems like everybody was pregnant at the same time. She, being the "Head Nurse In Charge" had to be there at the hospital with them, even while pregnant herself. The Doctor finally had to put his foot down, and put her in the bed during the last trimester of Matthew's birth.
This ole gal even played rec volley ball at the church. She ended up blowing out her knee on the court, and those fine church goers called me to come get her off the court! With all the stresses of work and home life, we had not been very successful at producing kid number two. Well, while she is at home recovering from knee surgery, she gets pregnant with son number two. We accused the knee surgeon of being a fertility doctor too!
Most recently her hip finally gave out. After that surgery, I've referred to her as the bionic woman. They have rebuilt her with another drive shaft that should last her for another 100,000 miles. Now the other hip is showing signs of wear and tear, so the clock is ticking on that one.
But what has really had me perplexed recently is this phenomenon called the "sisterhood pecking order". The spousal unit has been a "take charge" kinda gal from the first day I met her. That, and her smile, were the two things that most attracted me to her.
We are over in Atlanta for a blessed event, the birthing of the Grandbaby Nephew. Work had kept me away from the birthing of the Grandbaby Niece. All of a sudden, "Miss I'll take charge", is sitting back taking orders from the oldest of the sisterhood pecking. At first, I thought she was having one of those "female moments" that always have us menfolk puzzled.
This phenomenon must be viral because I think I've caught it. Even though there are plenty of vehicles in the parking lot, I'm now taking orders to Taxi "da family" through Atlanta traffic! I had several Stella Artois at the "Tilted Kilt" last night. Hopefully the Stella, the boobs, and the kilt infusion will have me back to normal.
So to you men out there, that run into this phenomenon down the road, let it slide, take two Stellas, and call me in the morning!
Her body has not been able to keep pace with her throughout the years. During the birthing years, seems like everybody was pregnant at the same time. She, being the "Head Nurse In Charge" had to be there at the hospital with them, even while pregnant herself. The Doctor finally had to put his foot down, and put her in the bed during the last trimester of Matthew's birth.
This ole gal even played rec volley ball at the church. She ended up blowing out her knee on the court, and those fine church goers called me to come get her off the court! With all the stresses of work and home life, we had not been very successful at producing kid number two. Well, while she is at home recovering from knee surgery, she gets pregnant with son number two. We accused the knee surgeon of being a fertility doctor too!
Most recently her hip finally gave out. After that surgery, I've referred to her as the bionic woman. They have rebuilt her with another drive shaft that should last her for another 100,000 miles. Now the other hip is showing signs of wear and tear, so the clock is ticking on that one.
But what has really had me perplexed recently is this phenomenon called the "sisterhood pecking order". The spousal unit has been a "take charge" kinda gal from the first day I met her. That, and her smile, were the two things that most attracted me to her.
We are over in Atlanta for a blessed event, the birthing of the Grandbaby Nephew. Work had kept me away from the birthing of the Grandbaby Niece. All of a sudden, "Miss I'll take charge", is sitting back taking orders from the oldest of the sisterhood pecking. At first, I thought she was having one of those "female moments" that always have us menfolk puzzled.
This phenomenon must be viral because I think I've caught it. Even though there are plenty of vehicles in the parking lot, I'm now taking orders to Taxi "da family" through Atlanta traffic! I had several Stella Artois at the "Tilted Kilt" last night. Hopefully the Stella, the boobs, and the kilt infusion will have me back to normal.
So to you men out there, that run into this phenomenon down the road, let it slide, take two Stellas, and call me in the morning!
Monday, July 29, 2013
My Name is Bill, and I am a Foodie
Gotta admit, most, if not all my adventures have a food stop or two in them, The "Road to Atlanta" is full of them.
Pillow Donuts: We cannot even get outta town without a stop at Pillow Donuts. Thankfully, there are now two locations, one in Flowood, and one in Ridgeland. . My personal favorite is the apple fritter:
Not overcooked, and coated with melted sugar to perfection! I've tried apple fritters at other establishments, but none come close to Pillow Donuts. Their regular donuts and specialty items are equally good, but hey, fritter or nothing.
Our next stop either going or coming, is in Tuscaloosa;
Dreamland Barbeque. This is the original joint, and believe me, nothing has ever changed in that place. You sit down, and the waitress "tells" you what "she" is gonna start you off with, which is usually sauce, a slab (or more, depending on crowd size) of ribs, and white bread. That's it! In more recent years they added nanner puddin' and a few other items. Here you can see me enjoying a bone or two:
This place has it all when it comes to oriental food: Sushi, Chinese, and Hibachi
Ikea:
Furniture, right? Wrong! Ikea has some of the best cinnamon rolls. You smell them when you go in and you smell them as you are checking out. Actually resisted one today.
Pillow Donuts: We cannot even get outta town without a stop at Pillow Donuts. Thankfully, there are now two locations, one in Flowood, and one in Ridgeland. . My personal favorite is the apple fritter:
Our next stop either going or coming, is in Tuscaloosa;
Dreamland Barbeque. This is the original joint, and believe me, nothing has ever changed in that place. You sit down, and the waitress "tells" you what "she" is gonna start you off with, which is usually sauce, a slab (or more, depending on crowd size) of ribs, and white bread. That's it! In more recent years they added nanner puddin' and a few other items. Here you can see me enjoying a bone or two:
Tried "takeout" a time or two, but it just ain't the same.
In Birmingham, its all about the Cheese cake from the:
Cheesecake Factory. I hate it when I walk by the refrigerated counter with all of the varieties of cheesecake that are available. And for some reason, we can never share!
In Atlanta, we have quite a few places we try to hit, including:
The Varsity.
Whatta Ya Have!?
Just love their chili dogs, chili burgers, and fried apple and peach pies! The only thing that was new that I could tell was the electronic Menu board. And onion rings, OMG, da rings!
The Orient Express:
This place has it all when it comes to oriental food: Sushi, Chinese, and Hibachi
We can just have the sushi, but what's raw fish without a Sapporo?
.
Buckhead Diner:
For us, its the appetizers.Their homemade tater chips with maytag blue cheese dressing is to die for. And the calamari, will make you slap your momma!
Fogo de Chao
This is a meat eaters paradise. Spent a small fortune here on Matthew's 21st birthday. He is 26 and still talks about that night, including the Grappa!
Ikea:
Furniture, right? Wrong! Ikea has some of the best cinnamon rolls. You smell them when you go in and you smell them as you are checking out. Actually resisted one today.
These are but a few examples of my "food vice". And always looking for more.
Sunday, July 28, 2013
Best Laid Plans
Today was supposed to be a nice relaxing drive over to Atlanta to prepare for the arrival of the Grandbaby Nephew. So much for how the day was "supposed" to unfold.
Around 6 this morning the phone begins to ring off the wall. Exciting news! The Grandbaby Nephew had done broke the dam, and the flood waters went a gushing. The baby momma and daddy were on the way to the hospital. Let the convoy begin!
The shortcut to Interstate 20 is State highway 471. I have never seen so much critter road kill on one stretch of road in my life. On some of it you could see the steam coming out of it. Shame I didn't have one of my big cooler ice chests with me. Supper would have been some fine eating with all the coons, possums and other critters in the slaughter!
We were careful not to burn up the highway too bad. As we flowed through Alabama the highway patrol officers were in full force in nothing but unmarked cars. There are still a lot of stretches of I20 under construction, and those fines are mighty steep!
Passed through Birmingham. You would think that a restaurant like the Cheesecake Factory would have a drive through window, but no........! A little bit further down the road, We took a little lunch break, then switched drivers. That didn't last long.
The phone calls and the text messages were beginning to roll in. The spousal unit can barely see over the steering wheel, and now she is reading text messages, sending text messages, taking phone calls, steering, and giving me the evil eye. Right then and there, I thought I was gonna die! Got us a Grandbaby Nephew, 8 lbs 2 oz.'s
The first car in the convoy got in town to take charge of the Grandbaby Niece. I dropped the spousal unit off at the hospital for her to "strut her stuff", after all, nursing is her bread and butter. I then went to the baby Momma & Daddy's house to drop off a picnic table for Grandbaby Niece, and one of my cooler chests for a neighbor. I had the rack on the back of the car for the cooler chest. I pulled up to the drive and went "rut-roh":
That sucker is a whole lot steeper than it looks. Backed up this bad boy, and was not sure the car had it in it. I'm tempted to tie a rope on the Grandbaby Niece's car and let her fly. She just might make it to the Alabama State Line.
You can see she already has it loaded with snacks for a read trip to Mississippi!
A southern girl has got to have her Twinkies, Moon Pies and RC cola!
On the way back to the hotel, Grand Pop Mr. "Hot" offered to buy a round of milk shakes from Chic- fil-a. I introduced him the their chocolate shake our last visit to Atlanta. Had to break the news to him that they ain't open on Sunday. Never fear, we are also in Steak & Shake country!
I pulled up, placed an order for a chocolate shake and a butterfinger shake. While pulling up to the pay window, I noticed a sign on the wall that said "don't forget the Heinz". So, being me, I asked about the Heinz! They handed me our order and off to the hotel we went. One bite and whoops! Somehow we ended up with the butterfinger and orange sherbet. Now you know what happens when you mix chocolate and ketchup! We sure got a laugh outta that one!
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Racism. Whatcha Talking about Willis?
The 1960's:
My Dad attended Mississippi State University back in the 1950"s and he did the ROTC thing and graduated as a second lieutenant, and off to military duty he went. The Army only knew one color, even back then, GREEN. He was a Captain in the Army when they decided that he needed to spend his next tour of duty in Korea. He made the decision to put family before career and retired, rather than deal with the separation.
We moved back to Mississippi and settled in Belzoni. My Dad went into the farming business with his Dad. My first year of schooling there was in the fourth grade. Upon entering the fifth grade, the world, as we knew it, was about to change forever.
The first couple of days fifth grade went by uneventful. There were two classes for my age group, and we were settling in and getting accustomed to our surroundings, and new classmates. There was a lot of commotion in the halls, and our curiosity was getting the best of us. Turns out, this was the day that Belzoni High School and Elementary was being integrated! As best I can recollect, only a handful of black students were being "relocated" to the white school. One of these students was named Cornelius Thomas, a fifth grader, and he was coming to my classroom, and he was assigned the desk in front of me.
Cornelius took his seat and class time got to normal. Wasn't long before the recess bell rang. Playtime! Out the door and to the empty lot we went, with Cornelius in tow. Yard ball football was our game and Cornelius fit right in. The end of recess came way too quickly, and back to class we went. Like me, I think all of us went home that afternoon and told our parents about our new fifth grade classmate, Cornelius.
School the next day, was like any other day, until the recess bell rang. Off to the empty lot we all went for some more yard ball! This time, things were different. Cornelius was no longer the center of attention. It was as if he had leprosy. He wasn't invited to play yard ball. No one was within 15 feet of him. I approached him to see what's up? Then I heard a phrase that has been burned into my soul ever since. Somebody yelled out "Nigger lover"! Me being an "army brat", had no clue what that meant. Recess ended, back to class we went, then home. At the dinner table, I asked my parents what that phrase meant. Oh boy, welcome to racism.
Fast Forward to 2006-2007:
I was an official sports parent. Spent my time in the rec league baseball and soccer, doing my time as a Dad, assistant coach and eventual head coach. Learned more about parents, people, and human nature during this time than any other in my life time.
My youngest son, Morgan, tagged along as a tot to all the games, and he too enjoyed rec sports, as did my oldest. Morgan developed a deep fondness for soccer. He was fortunate enough to be couched by some guys that knew the game of soccer.
Morgan "tried out" for the club soccer team, Mississippi United, later to become Chicago Fire Juniors. The Club decided to field four teams, two from Rankin County and two from Madison County. He made the cut, but was put on the "B" team. Not enough players, for a full team, but hey, "no problem". Yours truly, got railroaded into being the team manager. My first responsibility was to go and recruit three more players so we would have a full team and two subs. Mission accomplished. The coach was a black man from Trinadad, Carlos McGregor, all the players are white.
Carlos had played on the Belhaven College team that was ranked nationally. He had a full time job, but soccer was his passion. Carlos was assigned to coach both Rankin County teams. That man knew soccer, but more importantly, he knew how to get the best out of those boys.
Season one ended, and Morgan loved the game so much, that he and a friend went to the summer soccer camp at UAB. Soccer tryouts for season two were here before we knew it. This year, the Club decided to go with three teams, one Rankin County, one Madison County, and one "B" team consisting of a collection of kids from both counties. Morgan made the "B" team. End of season, and off to the UAB soccer camp.
As you can guess by now, as the kids get older, the pool of players continually shrinks. Kids don't like the hard work it takes, or just lose interest. Season three arrives, and the Club decides to field one team. Morgan did not make the cut. The Club made a decision to field a "B" team consisting of kids of two age groups. Morgan was picked and he would be playing playing in the older age group.
One of Morgan's friends was in the same boat, each without a paddle. The friend, Matthew, and his Dad went looking for other options. The Matthew tried out, and made the cut with the CJSO team. Central Jackson Soccer Organization. CJSO was an inner city "all black" league. The team was still a player short on sub's. Morgan was invited to come "kick around". They liked him, and he liked them, having played against them the previous two years.
The fall season was full of disappointments. The team was playing like individuals instead of as a team, and Morgan and Matthew got little playing time, and they were the only two subs. I reminded him that he had to pay his dues and earn the time on the field. The team made a trip to Dallas after Thanksgiving, and were given some soccer lessons by some very good teams. I don't think the team even scored a goal. During the holiday break, the coach was assigned to a younger age group. Enter the new coach, also the Director of Coaching, Carlos McGregor. It did not take long for Carlos to get to work.
Practices under Carlos were brutal. Some days he would tell the boys to not even bring a ball to practice. With so few boys, it was all about conditioning. Under Carlos' leadership, the boys began playing as a team. Each tournament they entered, they got better and better.
The team entered a tournament in Louisiana. The tournament started out like any other, first day, play two games on Saturday, then finish up on Sunday. The second game was like no other game that they had ever played. By the end, CJSO had defeated a team from Louisiana by a score of 10-0. This was most unusual, as Carlos never allows the score it be run up like that. After the game, I asked Morgan what was going on? He said that the Louisiana team, had called both he and Matthew ugly names. One word that was used was "wigger". The team approached Carlos and asked for permission to teach the other team a lesson. A bunch of black kids wanted to take up for their white brothers. Matthew and Morgan had become the crème filling in this team of Oreos. I have never been so proud!
End of the season, at the President's cup, team had made it to the finals, up against the Mississippi United team. It was a hard fought game, coming down to the last minute all tied. There was a scramble in front of the other goal, and bam! Matthew had just scored the winning goal against their former team. That victory was sweet!
The next season, because of the prior year victory and being the number one and two teams, the CJSO team and the Mississippi United teams reached elite status, and would play other teams from surrounding states that had also reached "elite" status. Because of their success, CJSO was able to pick up several more players that decided that Mississippi United was not for them. With Carlos as head coach, they boys were ready. As best as I can recall, this CJSO team won every tournament they entered. During the President's Cup, CJSO was again in the finals. Game was not even close, and Morgan scored the last goal, as time expired. CJSO was once again victorious! Off to Regionals!
Morgan, retired from club soccer after Regionals concluded. We were ready for another year. He looked at us and said, "Last year, I played for you, I'm ready for me." He worked his butt off at every practice and played his heart out at every game for us! Broke my heart. Still brings me to tears.
During his freshman year at Mississippi State, while majoring in electrical engineering, Morgan had a black roommate. No biggie. This year, Morgan, because he will be a co-op student, he will be living in a condo we purchased. We told him that he would have to have a roommate to help cover the cost.
Morgan picked a fellow electrical engineering student, a black kid named Manterio. He helped us move Morgan's things in back in May. The spousal unit fell in love with Manterio and his acqua blue eyes. I asked Morgan about his eyes, not knowing if he was from a mixed marriage or what. His answer, "contacts"! I have never laughed so hard!
Since the 1960's, life (mine, anyway) has kinda come full circle, from one generation to the next.
So, Racism. Whatcha Talking about Willis?
My Dad attended Mississippi State University back in the 1950"s and he did the ROTC thing and graduated as a second lieutenant, and off to military duty he went. The Army only knew one color, even back then, GREEN. He was a Captain in the Army when they decided that he needed to spend his next tour of duty in Korea. He made the decision to put family before career and retired, rather than deal with the separation.
We moved back to Mississippi and settled in Belzoni. My Dad went into the farming business with his Dad. My first year of schooling there was in the fourth grade. Upon entering the fifth grade, the world, as we knew it, was about to change forever.
The first couple of days fifth grade went by uneventful. There were two classes for my age group, and we were settling in and getting accustomed to our surroundings, and new classmates. There was a lot of commotion in the halls, and our curiosity was getting the best of us. Turns out, this was the day that Belzoni High School and Elementary was being integrated! As best I can recollect, only a handful of black students were being "relocated" to the white school. One of these students was named Cornelius Thomas, a fifth grader, and he was coming to my classroom, and he was assigned the desk in front of me.
Cornelius took his seat and class time got to normal. Wasn't long before the recess bell rang. Playtime! Out the door and to the empty lot we went, with Cornelius in tow. Yard ball football was our game and Cornelius fit right in. The end of recess came way too quickly, and back to class we went. Like me, I think all of us went home that afternoon and told our parents about our new fifth grade classmate, Cornelius.
School the next day, was like any other day, until the recess bell rang. Off to the empty lot we all went for some more yard ball! This time, things were different. Cornelius was no longer the center of attention. It was as if he had leprosy. He wasn't invited to play yard ball. No one was within 15 feet of him. I approached him to see what's up? Then I heard a phrase that has been burned into my soul ever since. Somebody yelled out "Nigger lover"! Me being an "army brat", had no clue what that meant. Recess ended, back to class we went, then home. At the dinner table, I asked my parents what that phrase meant. Oh boy, welcome to racism.
Fast Forward to 2006-2007:
I was an official sports parent. Spent my time in the rec league baseball and soccer, doing my time as a Dad, assistant coach and eventual head coach. Learned more about parents, people, and human nature during this time than any other in my life time.
My youngest son, Morgan, tagged along as a tot to all the games, and he too enjoyed rec sports, as did my oldest. Morgan developed a deep fondness for soccer. He was fortunate enough to be couched by some guys that knew the game of soccer.
Morgan "tried out" for the club soccer team, Mississippi United, later to become Chicago Fire Juniors. The Club decided to field four teams, two from Rankin County and two from Madison County. He made the cut, but was put on the "B" team. Not enough players, for a full team, but hey, "no problem". Yours truly, got railroaded into being the team manager. My first responsibility was to go and recruit three more players so we would have a full team and two subs. Mission accomplished. The coach was a black man from Trinadad, Carlos McGregor, all the players are white.
Carlos had played on the Belhaven College team that was ranked nationally. He had a full time job, but soccer was his passion. Carlos was assigned to coach both Rankin County teams. That man knew soccer, but more importantly, he knew how to get the best out of those boys.
Season one ended, and Morgan loved the game so much, that he and a friend went to the summer soccer camp at UAB. Soccer tryouts for season two were here before we knew it. This year, the Club decided to go with three teams, one Rankin County, one Madison County, and one "B" team consisting of a collection of kids from both counties. Morgan made the "B" team. End of season, and off to the UAB soccer camp.
As you can guess by now, as the kids get older, the pool of players continually shrinks. Kids don't like the hard work it takes, or just lose interest. Season three arrives, and the Club decides to field one team. Morgan did not make the cut. The Club made a decision to field a "B" team consisting of kids of two age groups. Morgan was picked and he would be playing playing in the older age group.
One of Morgan's friends was in the same boat, each without a paddle. The friend, Matthew, and his Dad went looking for other options. The Matthew tried out, and made the cut with the CJSO team. Central Jackson Soccer Organization. CJSO was an inner city "all black" league. The team was still a player short on sub's. Morgan was invited to come "kick around". They liked him, and he liked them, having played against them the previous two years.
The fall season was full of disappointments. The team was playing like individuals instead of as a team, and Morgan and Matthew got little playing time, and they were the only two subs. I reminded him that he had to pay his dues and earn the time on the field. The team made a trip to Dallas after Thanksgiving, and were given some soccer lessons by some very good teams. I don't think the team even scored a goal. During the holiday break, the coach was assigned to a younger age group. Enter the new coach, also the Director of Coaching, Carlos McGregor. It did not take long for Carlos to get to work.
Practices under Carlos were brutal. Some days he would tell the boys to not even bring a ball to practice. With so few boys, it was all about conditioning. Under Carlos' leadership, the boys began playing as a team. Each tournament they entered, they got better and better.
The team entered a tournament in Louisiana. The tournament started out like any other, first day, play two games on Saturday, then finish up on Sunday. The second game was like no other game that they had ever played. By the end, CJSO had defeated a team from Louisiana by a score of 10-0. This was most unusual, as Carlos never allows the score it be run up like that. After the game, I asked Morgan what was going on? He said that the Louisiana team, had called both he and Matthew ugly names. One word that was used was "wigger". The team approached Carlos and asked for permission to teach the other team a lesson. A bunch of black kids wanted to take up for their white brothers. Matthew and Morgan had become the crème filling in this team of Oreos. I have never been so proud!
End of the season, at the President's cup, team had made it to the finals, up against the Mississippi United team. It was a hard fought game, coming down to the last minute all tied. There was a scramble in front of the other goal, and bam! Matthew had just scored the winning goal against their former team. That victory was sweet!
The next season, because of the prior year victory and being the number one and two teams, the CJSO team and the Mississippi United teams reached elite status, and would play other teams from surrounding states that had also reached "elite" status. Because of their success, CJSO was able to pick up several more players that decided that Mississippi United was not for them. With Carlos as head coach, they boys were ready. As best as I can recall, this CJSO team won every tournament they entered. During the President's Cup, CJSO was again in the finals. Game was not even close, and Morgan scored the last goal, as time expired. CJSO was once again victorious! Off to Regionals!
Morgan, retired from club soccer after Regionals concluded. We were ready for another year. He looked at us and said, "Last year, I played for you, I'm ready for me." He worked his butt off at every practice and played his heart out at every game for us! Broke my heart. Still brings me to tears.
During his freshman year at Mississippi State, while majoring in electrical engineering, Morgan had a black roommate. No biggie. This year, Morgan, because he will be a co-op student, he will be living in a condo we purchased. We told him that he would have to have a roommate to help cover the cost.
Morgan picked a fellow electrical engineering student, a black kid named Manterio. He helped us move Morgan's things in back in May. The spousal unit fell in love with Manterio and his acqua blue eyes. I asked Morgan about his eyes, not knowing if he was from a mixed marriage or what. His answer, "contacts"! I have never laughed so hard!
Since the 1960's, life (mine, anyway) has kinda come full circle, from one generation to the next.
So, Racism. Whatcha Talking about Willis?
Thursday, July 25, 2013
The Baby's Coming
With all the brewhaha this week about that royal baby over there in England, we have one of our own!
The spousal unit's baby sister is scheduled to deliver her second child by C-section on Tuesday. A good chunk of the baby momma's family are planning to be there for this wonderful event. The baby daddy's family will be along a week later, when the bulk of all the oowing and aweing done happened.
The sex of the baby has been known for months, gonna be a boy. The baby momma and daddy have been tight lipped on what they have picked out for a name. The biggest possibility, is that he will be named after the baby daddy, who is the "IV". This would make him the number "V".
The Grandmaw, Nanny, and I have been having a ball with this one. I came up with "Fifth of Whiskey", or "JD" for Jack Daniels. Nanny came up with the best one "Half pint", since it will take him a little time to grow into a whole fifth!
Stay tuned. They journey begins Sunday, The car will be packed to the ceiling with all the baby stuff the spousal unit will be taking for both the "Grandbaby Nephew" and the "Grandbaby Niece" that is 18 months old. Can't wait to see the maneuvering for holding time with the new one and playtime with the other, between a Grandmother and two aunts! Battle Royale, no holds barred!
The spousal unit's baby sister is scheduled to deliver her second child by C-section on Tuesday. A good chunk of the baby momma's family are planning to be there for this wonderful event. The baby daddy's family will be along a week later, when the bulk of all the oowing and aweing done happened.
The sex of the baby has been known for months, gonna be a boy. The baby momma and daddy have been tight lipped on what they have picked out for a name. The biggest possibility, is that he will be named after the baby daddy, who is the "IV". This would make him the number "V".
The Grandmaw, Nanny, and I have been having a ball with this one. I came up with "Fifth of Whiskey", or "JD" for Jack Daniels. Nanny came up with the best one "Half pint", since it will take him a little time to grow into a whole fifth!
Stay tuned. They journey begins Sunday, The car will be packed to the ceiling with all the baby stuff the spousal unit will be taking for both the "Grandbaby Nephew" and the "Grandbaby Niece" that is 18 months old. Can't wait to see the maneuvering for holding time with the new one and playtime with the other, between a Grandmother and two aunts! Battle Royale, no holds barred!
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Bouncing Betty
Being from a neighborhood that "shares more than sugar" there is always a story to be told. We live on the Rankin County side if the Ross Barnett Reservoir, and we always enjoy boat rides to the Madison side of the Rez.
Before we left, I gave the spousal unit a $20 bill for a reserve fund, in case we needed some extra money. The $20 was safely tucked away in her "safe". Better safe than sorry.
On this particular day, we had a boat load. The girls were in the front, and the guys in the back. The ride over to the Madison side was fairly smooth. The weather was beginning to take a change for the worse, so we set off to get home before the weather got really rough. As we were working our way across the "Rez", the water and waves were beginning to white cap. We were in for a rough ride!
One neighbor, Becky, was wearing her favorite bikini. Becky had positioned herself in the "V-hull" of the boat. Becky had a boob job done back in the spring, and each time the boat would crash into a wave, Becky's boobs would begin working themselves out the sides of her Bra top. John, the Captain, and I were getting our eyes full.
The other ladies in the group had positioned themselves with their backs to the windshield of the boat. These ladies were also having "boob issues". One had on a suit with straps, the spousal unit was wearing a halter type suit. Each time the boat hit a wave, these boobs were rocking and a rolling, but staying put.
The spousal unit's was just about to give those bad boys up, when she conceded, and with one quick motion, she re-adjusted herself with a big swoop of her top to reposition them back into position. All of a sudden I see the $20 bill go flying up past me and into the roaring surf behind me. I Yell to John "Whoah! Stop! The $20 bill!" John's response, "Don't know anything about a $20 bill, all I saw was BOOBS!"
Never did find that twenty, but the story was priceless!
Before we left, I gave the spousal unit a $20 bill for a reserve fund, in case we needed some extra money. The $20 was safely tucked away in her "safe". Better safe than sorry.
On this particular day, we had a boat load. The girls were in the front, and the guys in the back. The ride over to the Madison side was fairly smooth. The weather was beginning to take a change for the worse, so we set off to get home before the weather got really rough. As we were working our way across the "Rez", the water and waves were beginning to white cap. We were in for a rough ride!
One neighbor, Becky, was wearing her favorite bikini. Becky had positioned herself in the "V-hull" of the boat. Becky had a boob job done back in the spring, and each time the boat would crash into a wave, Becky's boobs would begin working themselves out the sides of her Bra top. John, the Captain, and I were getting our eyes full.
The other ladies in the group had positioned themselves with their backs to the windshield of the boat. These ladies were also having "boob issues". One had on a suit with straps, the spousal unit was wearing a halter type suit. Each time the boat hit a wave, these boobs were rocking and a rolling, but staying put.
The spousal unit's was just about to give those bad boys up, when she conceded, and with one quick motion, she re-adjusted herself with a big swoop of her top to reposition them back into position. All of a sudden I see the $20 bill go flying up past me and into the roaring surf behind me. I Yell to John "Whoah! Stop! The $20 bill!" John's response, "Don't know anything about a $20 bill, all I saw was BOOBS!"
Never did find that twenty, but the story was priceless!
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Pieces and Parts
Here are some items that ain't quite long enough for a whole post all by themselves:
Vacation:
Growing up with a Dad that farmed for a living, there were not many opportunities for extended family vacations. Back when we were little we made the long journey to Dallas Fort Worth to go to Six Flags over Texas. Most of what I remember were the lines......
This spring, I had the opportunity to make a trip to Waco, Texas with my parents and nephew Trey. My parents have made the trip several times, and since they weren't driving, thought it might be fun to go a different route. They told me of three, so I pulled out my handy dandy smartass phone, pulled up Google maps, and quickly determined that those other two routes would add over 30 minutes to the trip. I told my Dad how many miles it would be and the number of hours each would take. His response, "That phone can do all that?". Yep, and more.
With the trip being as long as it was, there was plenty of time to trade zingers with my mom. Mom being Mom, she got the last one in. I mentioned that this was the first family vacation that I had been on in over forty years. Mom's reply, "I am beginning to remember why!"
Cell Phones:
When my parents first got a cell phone, it was only going to be for emergencies. They would take it with them on road trips, but once they parked the car they would turn it off. They didn't want to run the battery down. Now of course, its their primary mode of communication. On trips like the vacation trip mentioned above, my Dad is responsible for holding on to the phone and insuring that it is charged up, etc... We got to talking about phones, and my Dad says "we get to damned many calls on this thing"! Suddenly, the phone rings, and Dad hands it to Mom to Answer! Thank God I had my seatbelt on, or I would have fallen out of the car!
Bike Ramp:
Back when Matthew was a preteen, we had gotten him a Diamondback bicycle. Doing tricks on those bikes had become the latest rage and ole Matthew wasn't gonna miss out. Several of his friends had built ramps that they were using to get a "little air". Matthew decided that he wanted one, so between the two of us, we got one built. During the building process, Matthew kept insisting that the ramp be a little higher. We finally settled on a ramp height, and tightened everything down.
We set the ramp up in the middle of the street, and took every precaution. Matthew rode down the street to get himself some distance, turned around, and took off. I've never seen that boy peddle so fast, He approached the ramp, up he went, at lease two feet in the air! Suddenly the bike began to make its return to Mother Earth. BAM! Both tires hit the ground! Matthew quickly steered the bike into the grass an fell over, in obvious pain. I ran over to see what was wrong. The boy was holding on to his groin area. Apparently his two little balls had gone up in the air and had not yet returned! Apparently, ole Matthew had forgotten to use his knees as shock absorbers during the landing. That was the one and only trip ever over that ramp!
Ikea:
Ikea is a neat concept store out of Sweden that has found a niche in the U.S. in large markets with an abundance of college kids and young adults that are attracted to new concept furniture and affordable prices.
My first introduction to their products occurred on a road trip to Atlanta to visit the sister-in-law. We arrived at her apartment and caught her putting together an occasional table she had gotten at Ikea. First thing I noticed, was that she had a shoe and a butter knife in the floor along with all the parts of the table. Scratching my head, I had to ask, "what's with the shoe and butter knife?" Her reply: "The shoe is my hammer and the knife is my screw driver".
Next morning I was off to Sears for some Craftsman's tools for that Gal!
Vacation:
Growing up with a Dad that farmed for a living, there were not many opportunities for extended family vacations. Back when we were little we made the long journey to Dallas Fort Worth to go to Six Flags over Texas. Most of what I remember were the lines......
This spring, I had the opportunity to make a trip to Waco, Texas with my parents and nephew Trey. My parents have made the trip several times, and since they weren't driving, thought it might be fun to go a different route. They told me of three, so I pulled out my handy dandy smartass phone, pulled up Google maps, and quickly determined that those other two routes would add over 30 minutes to the trip. I told my Dad how many miles it would be and the number of hours each would take. His response, "That phone can do all that?". Yep, and more.
With the trip being as long as it was, there was plenty of time to trade zingers with my mom. Mom being Mom, she got the last one in. I mentioned that this was the first family vacation that I had been on in over forty years. Mom's reply, "I am beginning to remember why!"
Cell Phones:
When my parents first got a cell phone, it was only going to be for emergencies. They would take it with them on road trips, but once they parked the car they would turn it off. They didn't want to run the battery down. Now of course, its their primary mode of communication. On trips like the vacation trip mentioned above, my Dad is responsible for holding on to the phone and insuring that it is charged up, etc... We got to talking about phones, and my Dad says "we get to damned many calls on this thing"! Suddenly, the phone rings, and Dad hands it to Mom to Answer! Thank God I had my seatbelt on, or I would have fallen out of the car!
Bike Ramp:
Back when Matthew was a preteen, we had gotten him a Diamondback bicycle. Doing tricks on those bikes had become the latest rage and ole Matthew wasn't gonna miss out. Several of his friends had built ramps that they were using to get a "little air". Matthew decided that he wanted one, so between the two of us, we got one built. During the building process, Matthew kept insisting that the ramp be a little higher. We finally settled on a ramp height, and tightened everything down.
We set the ramp up in the middle of the street, and took every precaution. Matthew rode down the street to get himself some distance, turned around, and took off. I've never seen that boy peddle so fast, He approached the ramp, up he went, at lease two feet in the air! Suddenly the bike began to make its return to Mother Earth. BAM! Both tires hit the ground! Matthew quickly steered the bike into the grass an fell over, in obvious pain. I ran over to see what was wrong. The boy was holding on to his groin area. Apparently his two little balls had gone up in the air and had not yet returned! Apparently, ole Matthew had forgotten to use his knees as shock absorbers during the landing. That was the one and only trip ever over that ramp!
Ikea:
Ikea is a neat concept store out of Sweden that has found a niche in the U.S. in large markets with an abundance of college kids and young adults that are attracted to new concept furniture and affordable prices.
My first introduction to their products occurred on a road trip to Atlanta to visit the sister-in-law. We arrived at her apartment and caught her putting together an occasional table she had gotten at Ikea. First thing I noticed, was that she had a shoe and a butter knife in the floor along with all the parts of the table. Scratching my head, I had to ask, "what's with the shoe and butter knife?" Her reply: "The shoe is my hammer and the knife is my screw driver".
Next morning I was off to Sears for some Craftsman's tools for that Gal!
Monday, July 22, 2013
What's In a Name
As I have gotten older, but not anymore the wiser, I have to catch myself and auto adjust when the urge to add a nickname to something or someone. I cannot help myself, as I was born with this condition, inherited it from my mom and my dad, who more than likely got it from my grandparents.
As young kids, my brother and sister and I were very pet friendly. These critters were especially subject to be stuck with a name of my mothers choosing, and what she came up with usually stuck. Our first dog that I can remember was a beagle mix puppy that the neighbor of my Beepsie had, and was the last of the litter. Mom said "ok" and yes, we had a dog! It didn't take Mom very long to name this poor fellow. That dog was so covered in fleas, that he instantly became known as "Fleahound".!
My sister went to a weekend sleepover with one of her friend girls. By the time Mom had picked her up, she had fallen in love with a little puppy, and yep, last on of the litter. To this day my little sister, being our "little runt", seemed to always get her way. Little pup was on his way to the Weems household. Upon his arrival, it was obvious that this puppy was just one big ole ball of fur that would shrivel up to nothing when he got wet. The immediate question that all of us had on our minds was "just what kind dog is this"? This little pup turned out to be a "coc-a-pik-a-poo. Mom or Dad, I can't remember which, said "well, that's nothing but a "Heinz 57"! And "Heinz" is what our little fur ball became. Later in his life, Heinz got himself run over, and one of his hind legs had to be amputated. He then got his nickname as the three legged cottonpicker. That little three legged dog could run with the best of them. He would end up in a neighborhood pack and come home all beat up, but in a day or so, he would be at it again!
Somehow we ended up with a female German Shepherd that my Mom named Jessee, which came from the mother of the family that she came from. Jessee had one litter, and we kept one that was named JP, for Jessee's puppy.
My Dad, one who never showed much interest in pets, has adopted several cats that just wandered up. One of these was a black cat that he named "Obama". Unlike our current President, Obama the cat only lasted one term.
Mankind has not been exempt from the nickname curse. I broke my leg one summer, and got the nickname of "Chester", from the television show "Gunsmoke". Chester was a deputy that walked with a limp. My Mom picked up the tag of "Maude", after another television show. My sister's first husband became known as "Jack", as in jackass for his behavior. My cousin Carol got the tag "Colonel" after the mascot "Colonel Reb", of Ole Miss lore. "Colonel" ended up going to Mississippi State!.
Yes, I am guilty of this family trait, having nicknamed my lovely wife of thirty years "the spousal unit". Some family members are known as "the borrowers" because when they show up, you know they are wanting to borrow something. Even have a niece that is 19 years younger than her youngest cousin. She is know as "Grandbaby Niece".
This family trait must be contagious, as it has also affected the spousal unit. Son number two, Morgan, came home with a girlfriend, named Morgan. Momma came up with "He-Mo" and "She-Mo"! It fit, and it stuck.
So be warned. If you enter the Kingdom of Weems and you stick around long enough, you too will get a nickname.
As young kids, my brother and sister and I were very pet friendly. These critters were especially subject to be stuck with a name of my mothers choosing, and what she came up with usually stuck. Our first dog that I can remember was a beagle mix puppy that the neighbor of my Beepsie had, and was the last of the litter. Mom said "ok" and yes, we had a dog! It didn't take Mom very long to name this poor fellow. That dog was so covered in fleas, that he instantly became known as "Fleahound".!
My sister went to a weekend sleepover with one of her friend girls. By the time Mom had picked her up, she had fallen in love with a little puppy, and yep, last on of the litter. To this day my little sister, being our "little runt", seemed to always get her way. Little pup was on his way to the Weems household. Upon his arrival, it was obvious that this puppy was just one big ole ball of fur that would shrivel up to nothing when he got wet. The immediate question that all of us had on our minds was "just what kind dog is this"? This little pup turned out to be a "coc-a-pik-a-poo. Mom or Dad, I can't remember which, said "well, that's nothing but a "Heinz 57"! And "Heinz" is what our little fur ball became. Later in his life, Heinz got himself run over, and one of his hind legs had to be amputated. He then got his nickname as the three legged cottonpicker. That little three legged dog could run with the best of them. He would end up in a neighborhood pack and come home all beat up, but in a day or so, he would be at it again!
Somehow we ended up with a female German Shepherd that my Mom named Jessee, which came from the mother of the family that she came from. Jessee had one litter, and we kept one that was named JP, for Jessee's puppy.
My Dad, one who never showed much interest in pets, has adopted several cats that just wandered up. One of these was a black cat that he named "Obama". Unlike our current President, Obama the cat only lasted one term.
Mankind has not been exempt from the nickname curse. I broke my leg one summer, and got the nickname of "Chester", from the television show "Gunsmoke". Chester was a deputy that walked with a limp. My Mom picked up the tag of "Maude", after another television show. My sister's first husband became known as "Jack", as in jackass for his behavior. My cousin Carol got the tag "Colonel" after the mascot "Colonel Reb", of Ole Miss lore. "Colonel" ended up going to Mississippi State!.
Yes, I am guilty of this family trait, having nicknamed my lovely wife of thirty years "the spousal unit". Some family members are known as "the borrowers" because when they show up, you know they are wanting to borrow something. Even have a niece that is 19 years younger than her youngest cousin. She is know as "Grandbaby Niece".
This family trait must be contagious, as it has also affected the spousal unit. Son number two, Morgan, came home with a girlfriend, named Morgan. Momma came up with "He-Mo" and "She-Mo"! It fit, and it stuck.
So be warned. If you enter the Kingdom of Weems and you stick around long enough, you too will get a nickname.
Sunday, July 21, 2013
A Slice of the Delta
I made "a run" through a slice of the Delta this morning to deliver one of my ice chest cooler boxes to a friend of mine, Jim Whatley, up in Ruleville, Mississippi. Jim and his wife Ashley have the Whatley Store as one of their enterprises:
You name it they got it or do it. From Mudbugs, to fresh farm veggies. Buy it, kill it, grilled, boiled, broiled, or still flopping, they can do it in Ruleville. Rumored to have had some old time slot machines in there a time or two, till the Sheriff showed up.
I left the house before the sun was up. The air temperature outside was colder that inside the car, causing the windshield to fog up. After a while, I had to remind myself, where I was headed, and I remembered that it wasn't all dew on my windshield. By the time I got my parent's house in Inverness, the front end of my car had a story to tell:
I literally had to cut a path through the bugs to get there. Years ago, some farmers would take a ride early just to see what insects got stuck to their truck, so they would know what bugs to worry about that week.
Life "up there" moves at a much slower pace than in the city. Trips are measured in miles rather than minutes. You know you are there when passerby wave at you just to say hello. Kinda hard to do theses days with four lane highways and bypasses.
Growing up in "the Delta" was certainly a unique way of life. Back in the Day, Cotton was King, and everything else was an afterthought. As the cost of raising cotton rose, an alternative crop was sought that could be utilized on the other "buckshot" and "gumbo" land that wasn't well suited for cotton. Pond raised catfish seemed to be the answer. The production costs of catfish eventually ate up the initial profit margins. Today, these two mainstays of the Delta have been overtaken by grain crops such as corn, soybeans, and rice.
Here are some slices of life in the delta today:
With the abundance of grain crops in the Delta, grain bins have become an everyday sight along the highways and byways.
Corn has become king as a result of Federal programs to include up to 10% ethanol in gasoline you by at the pump.
Soybeans have rebounded into a significant cash crop for farmers
For you city slickers out there, here is where corn on the cob originates. Raccoons have been known to enter a corn patch after dark and strip it clean.
Rice is not as common in the Delta, but with all the irrigation that is utilized in the area, it is seeing some growth in production.
Here is a picture of a typical of catfish farming in the Delta. In the background is the pond that is used for raising the fish. The elevated container is used for the distribution of the catfish feed. During the long hot days of summer, the ponds will lose their oxygen levels, and the tractor and paddle wheel are used to aerate the water, adding oxygen back to the water.
In most Delta towns, there was a cotton compress, with water supplied from a water tower. The town of Ruleville, MS has two such towers, and someone had the bright idea to paint one "hot" and the other one "cold".
Railroad in Moorhead, MS where the "Southern Crosses the Dog". This happened so often the the "Dog" done up and left!"
Back in the day, a rail spur cut through every Delta town. That's where the expression "what side of the tracks" were you raised. The "well to do" vs the "working class, sort of thing. I attended two years of community college and Mississippi Delta Community College. Many a Thursday night were spent at Macon Lake. Those that have been remember the "Stowers Turn" well.
My Parent's Home town, Inverness, MS. When someone up there asks you "where are you from"? They mean, where were you born? Being an Army brat, I never spent more than three years at any given school. In this town, there is no such thang as gossip, they are "keeping up with your doings"! The old ladies start counting the months after every big wedding.....
This is Lake Bradley, in Inverness, MS. Glenn Anderson was the last one I can remember to pull the cannons off their pads during Halloween. Each Christmas Eve, Lake Bradley is lined with luminiaries, which consist of a bag, sand, candle, and a whole lot of bending over. This is a community wide event.
In Caile, Mississippi they have a place referred to as "the Caile Mall". Mr. Sid's store had a little bit of everything.
Isola, MS is the site for one of the remaining catfish processing plants in the area.
Belzoni, Mississippi is the home to the World Catfish Festival and a museum in honor of that bottom dweller. Down by the city cemetery, there is an Indian Mound. Many a weekend was spent playing yard football and baseball, swinging on the vine swing, and sliding in the snow at "the Mound".
Here is an art sculpture of a catfish, near the Catfish Museum in Belzoni, MS
Forest Ranger tower in the only clump of trees in Humphreys County
Back in my day the road veered right, toward Midnight and Louise. Later, it was "cutoff" so that the highway could "by-pass" downtown Yazoo City, MS. Yazoo City is considered the end or the beginning of the "Delta", depending on which direction you are headed.
If you have some time on your hands, take a ride through the Delta. In Indianola. the BB King Museum,the Blue Biscut, NOLA, and the Crown Restaurant are there. This is also the home base for "Lost Pizza Co. Those boys are expanding and they know pizza.
Greenville has "Doe's Eat Place". Greenwood is the home of Viking Range, The Crystal, Luscos, Giardinas and the Alluvian Hotel.
Peters Pottery & McCarty's Pottery are there, and so much more.
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