What Would Jimmy Do?

Those of you that know me well, know that I had a relationship with Howard Hughes — not a personal relationship, but one in which he was influential in a project I was involved in a number of years ago. 

Howard Hughes has been called many things — gifted, eccentric, crazy, and reckless, among others. His life was, to say the least, different. He was brilliant — and a billionaire. He made his fortune in the movies and aviation, but his entire life consisted of bizarre personal habits and activities.

Howard Robert Hughes, Jr. was born in a suburb of Houston Texas in 1905. His father was an entrepreneurial oil baron — his mother was very domineering. His father pioneered a revolutionary oil drill-bit and made a fortune with his Hughes Tool Company. His mother was hung up on illnesses and she constantly feared sickness for Howard. She rushed him to the doctor at the slightest hint of illness. If residents in their neighborhood suffered from bouts of colds or flu, she would bundle Howard off to a safe distance until the aliments had passed. Probably for this reason, Howard would be possessed by a fear of germs all of his life. 

When Howard was 14, he took his first flying lessons — that triggered his lifelong love affair with aviation. He showed an interest, and proficiency, in math and engineering and briefly attended classes at Caltech in California and Rice University in Texas. His parents’ unexpected deaths in the early 1920s left him rich — and alone — before his 20th birthday. 

Even though Howard was extremely gifted with engineering skills, his true dream was to produce movies in Hollywood. He married a young woman named Ella Rice and the couple moved to Los Angeles. 

Even though he had a lot of money and enthusiasm, that didn’t guarantee success in the movie business. His first film production, Swell Hogan, was so bad it was never released, even though he invested $60,000 in the film. His next two films, Everybody’s Acting and Two Arabian Knights, saw moderate success and that led to his first epic production, Hells Angels in 1930. Hell’s Angels cost nearly $4 million — it was by far the most expensive movie that had been made up to that time. The movie was loaded with Hughes’s favorite subject — airplanes. Although his movie making cost a lot of money, there was also another cost — his wife divorced him because she couldn’t deal with his tendency to work up to 36 straight hours at a time and she felt completely left out of his life. 
Hughes was a tall and handsome Texan and after his divorce he spent time with lots of Hollywood beauties. He eventually married actress Jean Peters — they were divorced in 1971. 

Howard Hughes was devoted to aviation. Despite being a self-educated pilot and engineer, he designed and built record-setting airplanes. His H-1 racer broke the airspeed barrier of 352 miles per hour in 1935, with Hughes at the controls. He set the transcontinental speed record — flying from Los Angeles to New York City in just under six and a half hours. He was never able to secure a military contract to build his H-1 Racer, but there’s a lot of evidence that the Japanese Zero, German Focke-Wulf and the American Hellcat fighter planes were heavily influenced by the Racer’s design. 

Hughes also designed the XF-11 spy plane and the U.S. Army Forces ordered 100 of them, but the order was canceled when the war ended. The very first test flight of the XF-11 prototype crashed with Howard at the controls, destroying several homes in the Beverly Hills area and seriously injuring Hughes. He suffered a broken collarbone, numerous fractured ribs, a collapsed lung, and multiple third-degree burns — he was bedridden for five weeks. 

He proposed another contribution to the World War II effort — the Hughes Hercules H-4 cargo plane. With a wingspan of more than 300 feet and a height of nearly 80 feet, the eight-engine seaplane would be the largest ever built. The plane became known as the “Spruce Goose,” but the H-4 was actually built from birch wood because metal was extremely hard to get during the war. The Hercules was cancelled when the war ended, but Hughes took it out for a test flight in November of 1947. The huge “flying boat” lifted off for nearly a mile, cruising at 135 miles an hour a mere 70 feet above the waters of Long Beach, California. It was the only time the Spruce Goose ever flew. 

During his lifetime, Hughes owned Trans World Airlines (TWA) and RKO, a prominent movie studio. But about the time he reached age 60, he started to shun his businesses and live in luxurious hotels in America, Central America, and the Caribbean. He usually took the top-floor penthouse and he would often buy the hotel. 

Around this time, his germ phobia — along with a longtime addiction to codeine and other painkillers — led him to bizarre habits and rituals. His diet consisted mostly of fresh whole milk, chocolate bars with almonds and pecans and bottled water. He refused to touch anything unless he used a tissue as barrier between his hand and the object.He also wouldn’t meet with anyone except his closest aides. That  made it all the more remarkable that he was willing to discuss, and participate in, our project. By 1970, his health had deteriorated to the point that he weighed less than 100 pounds. Howard Hughes was 6’ 4’’ tall. When he died of kidney failure, in April 1976, he was aboard a private plane en route to his hometown of Houston.
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Today is Mother’s Day — a holiday attributed to a West Virginian, Anna Jarvis, who campaigned for a dedicated day to honor mothers. She organized the first Mother’s Day celebration at a church in West Virginia — she passed out carnations to all the mothers.

It’s only appropriate that mothers have their own special day — they are arguably the most influential person in most of our lives. Since life doesn’t come with a manual, it’s a good thing it comes with mothers. 

I’ve heard it said that to be in your children’s memories tomorrow, you have to be in their lives today. That probably means more to this family today than it ever has before….
Happy Mother’s Day
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A lot of people associate the appearance of butterflies with messages beyond death. The significance of butterflies as signs of life after death appears to be a world wide belief and many people believe that butterflies are messengers sent by loved ones who have died. 

I’ve heard an explanation that goes something like this….
The cocoon stage of a butterfly is much like a death for the caterpillar as it basically decomposes through enzyme interaction to completely restructure and transform into a beautiful butterfly. It evolves from a land-bound crawling caterpillar to a winged, elegant butterfly that is usually very colorful.
What better symbol for life after death could there be?
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May 9, 1976 was Mother’s Day and on that day, your mom became a mother — and — I became a dad. 
Happy Birthday Kelly!!!!
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Today would have been our 52nd wedding anniversary. 
Since our marriage on May 6, 1972 we were together — physically — 18,896 days. Of course, we’re still together — our relationship didn’t end, it only changed. As my now favorite song so aptly puts into words, “I’ll keep a part of you with me, and everywhere I am, there you’ll be.”

Death is a cruel thing and hard to deal with for us left behind. I’ve heard it said that when someone you love becomes a memory, the memory becomes a treasure. I suppose that may be true, but Claire was always a treasure. People have tried to tell me about grief and their words are comforting, but no one warned me that grief would be so frightening. 

Claire passed away when she was 77 years, 7 months and 17 days old. That’s a lot of sevens — probably some numerologists could make something of that, but to me it means that she died much too young and much too soon. 
I was just thinking about when we met — it just took a minute to say hello…. and now more than 3 months later, I’m still trying to figure out how to say goodbye.
Happy Anniversary, Menoi — I love you….
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In 1931 — even before I was born —  the “Lolly Pop” was officially registered to the Bradley Smith Company of New Haven by the US Patent and Trademark Office. The company had started producing its first Lolly Pops in 1907, but it took until 1931 to convince the patent office to grant an exclusive right to the name. 

The name Lolly Pop was supposedly inspired by a racehorse that George Smith had seen at a local fair. Today, the word lollipop is a generic term, but the Bradley Smith Company was the first to apply it to a hard candy on a stick.

George Smith was supposedly inspired to make his candy on a stick by the success of a local confection called Reynolds Taffy — a chocolate caramel taffy on a stick. And the name Lolly Pop came from the name of a racehorse Smith had seen at a local fair. 

But it turns out that the Patent Office found the term lollipop used in an English dictionary published in the early 1800s. The dictionary defined it as “a hard sweetmeat sometimes on a stick” — so, they refused Bradley Smith’s initial registration. 

The trademark was finally granted after the company proved that Lolly Pop was an original spelling and its first use. During the long registration process many competitors used the name until Bradley Smith won. But over the years the term Lolly Pop and its other spelling Lollipop became interchangeable and it was so universally used that the trademark couldn’t be maintained.
The first Lolly Pops that Bradley Smith produced sold for a penny.
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I’ve pretty much heard about the Hatfields and McCoys all my life. It’s probably hard to hear the word Hatfield without immediately thinking, “McCoy.” It’s, arguably, the most famous feud in history. Yesterday I read something that caught my attention — apparently, that famous feud was the primary inspiration for the TV game show “Family Feud.” I don’t know if that’s really true, but the real Hatfields and McCoys competed on the program in 1979. 

The Hatfield-McCoy feud took place in two separate states, Kentucky and West Virginia — it started in 1863 and lasted until 1891. The two families settled on land on opposite sides of Tug Fork, a stream that forms part of the West Virginia — Kentucky border. The Hatfields lived on the West Virginia side and were a logging family of 15. Head of the family was “Devil Anse” Hatfield, a former Confederate officer that was none too happy that his state had joined the Union. The McCoys were also a big family, with 13 children, headed by Randolph “Old Ranel” McCoy. For a number of years, the two families coexisted more or less peacefully, working together and even intermarrying.

Some historians think the trouble began when young Harmon McCoy joined the Union army and fought for the North during the Civil War — an offense for which, when he returned to Tug Fork, he was hunted down and killed by a group of Hatfields. Bad feelings continued to build through the 1860s and 1870s and flared up again when a dispute over ownership of a pig led to another murder — this one committed by the McCoys.

But things didn’t really come to a head until Roseanna McCoy fell in love with a Hatfield. This backwoods version of Romeo and Juliet eventually led to the murders of at least 20 members of the two families.

There was lots of family feuding in Appalachia during the late 19th and early 20th centuries, but no squabble got the attention like that of the Hatfields and McCoys. There have been many folk songs, books, plays and moves about the two families and most depicted them as violent, poorly educated, incestuous hillbillies — that contributed to creating the popular misperception of Appalachia. 

But grudges can only last so long — in 1891, after the fighting got so bad that it was making national headlines, the families finally decided to call a truce. Over the next century, they lived in a kind of uneasy harmony — and, really did appear on the “Family Feud” TV show.
This gives me a whole new perspective when I watch Family Feud….
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As you all well know, my wife often referred to me as a curmudgeon. A few days ago, I had lunch with a friend and he mentioned that Claire sometimes called me a curmudgeon. He asked if there were any famous curmudgeons. I assumed he meant any besides me, but I came up with W.C. Fields, who is maybe the most famous, as well as the Muppets’ Statier and Waldorf (the guys in the balcony,) Lucy from the Peanuts comic strip and maybe Andy Rooney.

My friend asked if I didn’t think Donald Trump was maybe a curmudgeon. 
The short answer is no. He is bad tempered, but he doesn’t fit the curmudgeon mold. He daydreams or imagines universal adulation and gets ticked off that he doesn’t get it. He fantasizes about making America great again and energizing his base. But a real curmudgeon doesn’t care one bit whether or not people like him — he’s too old for all that nonsense, and — his knees hurt. A curmudgeon doesn’t think he can change the world — he only tries to slow down the pace in which it seems to be going to hell. 
So Trump may be incompetent, arrogant, an idiot, egoistical, ignorant, a racist, and narcissistic — but — he’s not a curmudgeon.
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I got an e-mail advertising children’s books. Normally I just immediately delete these things, but since we have grandkids and there were pictures of the books — I scanned through it. One that caught my eye was about a young girl named Sybil Ludinggton, that was kind of a patriot. I didn’t order the book, but I did some extensive research about Sybil…..

Just about everyone is familiar with the story of Paul Revere, who rode from Boston to Lexington on April 18, 1775 to warn his fellow revolutionaries that the British were coming. Well, a couple of years later a 16 year-old girl named Sybil Ludington did pretty much the same thing. 

On the night of April 26, 1777, an exhausted messenger arrived at Fredericksburg, New York. (Fredericksburg is now known as Kent.) The messenger had arrived from Danbury, Connecticut, with a message for Sybil’s father that the town had fallen to the British. Danbury is located about 25 miles south of Fredericksburg and served as a major supply depot for Washington’s Continental Army. The British had not only seized the town, they had set fire to homes and storehouses.

The messenger came to Fredericksburg to tell Henry Ludington, a colonel in the local militia, that he must rally his troops immediately. That evening, most of Ludington’s men were at home on their farms tending to the spring plowing. There was no way he could alert them himself — he had to stay put in order to organize the soldiers as they assembled, and the messenger from Danbury was far too tired to travel any farther. 

That’s when Sybil, Henry’s eldest daughter, volunteered to carry the message to the scattered revolutionaries. Given few options, her father finally consented. Sybil was an accomplished rider, knew how to shoot, and often watched her father drill the militia. She and her sister Rebecca had guarded the family home in the past when her father was asleep or away. 

So Sybil was ready to do her patriotic duty. According to the story, she galloped over rain-sodden trails, through dense forrest and over pitted rock-studded roads during a thunderstorm. She cried out “Muster at Ludington’s,” stopping at the farmhouses of the men in her father’s regiment. By dawn, Sybil had traveled more than 40 miles, and most of the 400 American soldiers under Henry’s command were ready to march against the British forces. 

Although she’s not as famous as Paul Revere, Sybil’s bravery hasn’t been forgotten. She was commemorated with a bicentennial stamp by the Post Office in 1976, and the state of New York erected a monument to mark her route. It turns out that the book cover that caught my eye isn’t the only children’s book about Sybil. 
My extensive research even found a poem about Sybil, some of which reads:

Listen, my children, and you shall hear
Of a lovely, feminine Paul revere
Who rode an equally famous ride
Through a different part of the countryside,
Where Sybil Ludington’s name recalls
A ride as daring as that of Paul’s ……

Harry Truman once said, “America was not built on fear, America was built on courage, on imagination and an unbeatable determination to do the job at hand.” I think Sybil and Harry would have gotten along well.
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There’s an old saying, “they don’t make ‘em like they used to.” I guess you can pretty much say that about anything — actually, some things are made better than they used to be, but as the saying implies, most things are maybe not as good.

A few months ago, Claire bought some toothpaste from Costco. We’re not hung up on any one brand — she usually just bought what was cheaper, or was on sale. Anyhow, she bought Crest. I’m not an expert on toothpaste and honestly can’t tell one brand from another — but — I have to say that the Crest toothpaste she bought was terrible! When it was squeezed out of the tube onto the toothbrush, it was so thin and runny, it wouldn’t stay on the brush. By the time I’d brushed my teeth, there was toothpaste all over the sink, it had run down my chin and I usually managed to dribble some on my arm. As I said, toothpaste isn’t my passion and I rarely pay much attention to it, but it seems to me that I always had to use some amount of effort to squeeze the paste out of the tube. The toothpaste we bought kind of “poured” out of the tube — it didn’t seem like much of a paste at all. 

I’m not sure what type of Crest we bought (there are about 100 different “types”) but the last time I was at Costco, I checked and noticed that neither Crest Pro-Health with Scope or Crest Pro-Health boxes use the word “paste.” I guess that tells you something.

So anyhow, this isn’t meant to slam Crest — it’s just an observation. I guess they really don’t make things the way they used to….
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