What Would Jimmy Do?

Those of you who check this blog annually know what’s coming today…. of course I wish America a happy 242nd birthday, but more importantly I want to remind everyone that the annual Porta Potty has arrived and that we’ll only be able to appreciate it for a few more days — by next week, it’ll be gone until (maybe) next July.

I’ve learned over the years that we should be thankful for what we have… thankful may not be exactly the right word, but I suppose there could be worse things than having a Porta Potty almost in your front yard — and it does serve as a reminder of our country’s birthday and how lucky we are to live here.
So as you celebrate the 4th in your own special or traditional way, remember only those of us here on Field Crest Court are enjoying the view of that great American symbol of the 4th, the Porta Potty.
Happy Birthday America. Hope everyone has a safe and fun day…..
— 30 —

Got an e-mail this morning urging me to attend a flea market being held to raise money for some charity. Wonder why these things are called “flea” markets? They don’t sell fleas. Of course you could make the same argument for farmers markets, slave markets, etc. You can’t buy farmers or slaves at these places.
But other “markets” make a little more sense to me… farmers markets sell things produced by farmers and slave markets, while at one time probably did sell slaves, the term came to mean a place to buy things made by, or produced by slaves.

But flea market seems to be a strange name — so — it calls for some extensive research on my part. Unfortunately, like a lot of other subjects of my extensive research, the origin of the term flea market doesn’t have one clear-cut answer.

The flea market term is usually applied to a type of bazar that rents or provides space to people who want to sell or barter merchandise. Some are seasonal and they may be held indoors in places like a warehouse or school gymnasium or maybe outdoors in a field or parking lot. People usually sell used “stuff,” cheap items, collectibles or antiques, etc. – you can often find baked goods and fresh produce.
The most popular theory for the flea market moniker is that it comes from the French marchė aux puces, a name originally given to a market in Paris which specialized in shabby second-hand goods of the kind that might contain fleas.

Anyhow lots of these types of events are popular today… while garage sales or yard sales usually only involve one, or just a few, sellers, a flea market usually has a fairly large number of “vendors” and one can find pretty much anything for sale. Seems like people are becoming obsessed about buying things either on-line or at some sort of a craft fair, yard sale, or flea market… Someone said it doesn’t matter to criminals if the event is called a gun show or a flea market — if they can buy guns.
Not that I’d want to, but if I did, I have no idea where I would go to buy fleas. And if I did find a place, how do they sell them? Individually? By weight? By the dozen? I suppose that if I bought 144 fleas and put them in a box that would be “gross.”
— 30 —

A few days ago I saw a recent model mini-van with a hood ornament. Obviously the ornament had been added and looked a little our of place on the vehicle. That got me to thinking about hood ornaments and after a bit of my extensive research on the subject, it seems that hood ornaments were most prominent on American cars from about 1930 to the early 1950s. Very few cars today have a hood ornament — the one exception that comes to mind is Mercedes… I think they may still put their distinctive three-point star on some of their models.

Ornaments have pretty much always adorned various modes of transportation — a Lady Luck caving of some sort has been on a lot of ships for years and horses that pulled carriages and chariots often wore ornate spires on their foreheads.

I remember when I was young, some of the cars on the road had external radiator caps, and some had temperature gauges incorporated into the caps. The first hood ornaments came about as car designers, looking for ways dress up the exposed radiator caps, used symbols that embodied the car’s identity.

Probably sometime in the 1920s, the practical need for a hood ornament was gone, because radiator caps were located under the hood and temperature gauges were moved to the dashboard. But by then, the hood ornament had become part of the car’s design and most American cars had some kind of ornament on the hood until the early 1950s.

When I was growing up one of the more popular “pranks” was ripping hood ornaments off cars — if it happened to be one of our teacher’s cars… so much the better. Of course nowadays that would be considered vandalism, but rarely did anyone get into serious trouble for the act of roughly removing a hood ornament.

Probably two things primarily led to the demise of these hood-mounted leaping cats, ram heads, crosshairs, etc. One obviously was the design changes of the cars as they all became more aerodynamic. But another reason was the implementation of the European pedestrian safety regulations concerned that projecting decorative designs on the hood might increase the risk of pedestrians in the case of an accident. I suppose that’s true, but if you get hit by a car you probably have more to worry about than the hood ornament embedded in your forehead. Similar regulations were introduced in the United States in 1968.

So may the great old hood ornaments like the Cadillac wreath, the Dodge ram and the Mercury goddess RIP.
Style comes and goes and the hood ornament fell out of style — kind of a shame, it gave the cars character. Nowadays everything is aerodynamic and boring. Maybe that’s what’s happening to all of us — we’re just getting boring as time marches on….
— 30 —

Well, here it is Father’s Day again… The first known Father’s Day service occurred at the Williams Memorial Methodist Episcopal Church South in Fairmont, West Virginia on July 5, 1908. (Another “first” for West Virginia.) Grace Golden Clayton had asked her pastor, Dr. R. Thomas Webb, if a Sunday service could be held to honor fathers.
The Fairmont service was the first known to honor fathers, but it didn’t turn into an annual event and the idea wasn’t promoted with any enthusiasm.

A number of other people across the nation had similar ideas throughout the years, but most didn’t gain much momentum. Father’s Day was celebrated mostly in local communities for many years — and didn’t become a permanent national holiday until much later. The first “Father’s Day bill”was introduced in Congress in 1913, but in spite of encouragement by President Woodrow Wilson, it didn’t pass. In 1966, Lyndon Johnson issued a proclamation designating the third Sunday in June as a day to honor fathers. Finally, in 1972, President Richard Nixon signed a law declaring that Father’s day be celebrated annually on the third Sunday in June.

A fellow Okie, Will Rogers, once said, “His heritage to his children wasn’t words or possessions, but an unspoken treasure — the treasure of his example as a man and a father.”
I think these words almost perfectly describe the two best dads I know…Happy father’s day, Dave and Chris!!
— 30 —

Every year at this time, I struggle for just the right words to say Happy Birthday to my true love — and every year, I fall short. Some things are very hard put into words, or at least words that adequately convey the feelings they are intended to…

I’m okay with the words “Happy Birthday” – that pretty much just says, “ this is a special day for you and I hope it’s nice.” The part that I have trouble with is finding the words that express how much I love her and how much she means to me.

If you’re a follower of this blog, you know that over the years, I’ve tried many approaches… I’ve tried to describe her many attributes, like being one of the smartest people that I know and her being quick-witted and funny and a memory like an elephant, etc.
None of these “good qualities” sound particularly romantic, but all these things go into making her the person that she is — no, make that the special person that she is.

A few years ago, I tried writing Happy Birthday and I love you in a lot of the languages spoken in the various countries we’ve visited. While it may have been interesting, when all was said and done, just “Happy Birthday” and “I love you” seemed to win out.

People that have known us for a while have probably at some time heard me refer to Claire as “my first wife.” While that’s true, she really is the love of my life.

There is a Winnie the Pooh cartoon in which Piglet asks, “How do you spell love?” Winnie the Pooh replied, “You don’t spell it… you feel it.” Maybe that’s the answer — there really aren’t any words.
So once again this year, words fail me…. it may sound sappy, and repetitive, but it’s true — loved you yesterday, love you still, always have, always will. Happy Birthday to the love of my life. You are still the woman of my dreams and hanging out with you is still my favorite thing to do.
— 30 —

A couple of weeks ago, Dave told me he was reading a book about significant events in history. One of the significant events was the dropping of the first atomic bomb on Hiroshima in Japan. The date was August 6, 1945. It occurred to Dave that my birthday is August 6. I guess he had never made that connection before.

Interestingly, his question was, “how long did it take for you to hear about it?” I guess his perception was that in the “olden” days of 1945, most news traveled by pony express. (Actually, that’s not that far from the truth, but we did have something called a radio back then.) I couldn’t really answer Dave’s question with any certainty — I had just turned seven years old that day. I told him that I thought the news spread pretty quickly – not measured in days.
Of course, this got me to thinking and my extensive research mode kicked in.

President Truman issued a statement at 10:45 in the morning announcing that a single atomic bomb had been dropped on the Japanese city of Hiroshima. That was sixteen hours after the device had been detonated.
So by todays standards, in sixteen hours, it’s already “old news.” But in 1945 that was pretty current. It’s worth noting that the announcement made no assessment of the damage the bomb may have caused. The War Department said it was unable to make an accurate report because an “impenetrable cloud of dust and smoke” masked the target area from reconnaissance planes.

So that’s a more complete answer to Dave’s question…. August 6 is significant in history not only because it’s my birthday, but it ushered in the “age of atomic energy” — which can be a tremendous force for the advancement of civilization — or for its destruction. Hopefully Kim Jong Un and Donald Trump know a little bit about history…..
— 30 —

Today, we’ve been married for 46 years. It doesn’t seem like that long, but 46 years is a fair amount of time. We’ve both been married for longer than we have not been married.

A lot has changed in 46 years. Our parents are gone now — and we are the elders of the family, even though we don’t (usually) feel like elders. Our kids didn’t exist and of course neither did our grandkids. There were no personal computers or iPhones. There was no “9-11” or ISIS, or Brexit… it was a completely different world in so many ways.

Celebrating this milestone of 46 years should be, and I think for us, is a normal part of married life. Some of our friends have celebrated more than 60 years of marriage. I didn’t have any real doubt that we’d make it this far, but I’m pretty sure there were a lot of people that did have that doubt in 1972. Even today, some people still find this news remarkable. You’d think we just won an Olympic medal or found a cure for cancer. They asked, “how’d you do it?”
Frankly, it wasn’t that hard. I think we both believe that our 46 years of marriage is more of a blessing than an achievement.

Since this is our anniversary, the remainder of this entry is directed to Claire. You’ve read this far, so you’re welcome to continue if you wish — but this is for Claire……

I don’t know what the population of the world is, but I know it’s a lot of people, and you’re the one person in the entire universe that I can happily grow old with. Doesn’t matter how much time passes, or how old we get, or how many gray hairs or wrinkles we get — I know I’m with the one person that truly makes me happy.
I love you so much and as long as we are side by side and hand in hand, I can grow old knowing that I am the luckiest person in the world having you right next to me.
Every day, when I look at you, I think — ‘good job, God.’ Happy Anniversary! Anh yêu em (very much.)
— 30 —

Today is Cinco de Mayo… lots of Mexican restaurants will be very crowded today. It’s hard to believe, but a number of people that I know think, or assume, that it is Mexico’s Independence Day. That, of course is not true — in fact Cinco de Mayo is more of an American holiday than Mexican. I don’t even remember hearing about Cinco de Mayo 15 or 20 years ago.

The day commemorates a Mexican victory over France in the Battle of Puebla (May 5, 1862.) Even though the Mexicans were underdogs, and a victory is a victory, this victory was fairly short lived. The day isn’t widely celebrated in Mexico, however it is still celebrated in Puebla — but probably not as much as in the United States.

Cinco de Mayo apparently gained popularity here due to ad campaigns by Mexican beer companies. But whatever — it’s a good excuse to have some good Mexican food and enjoy a Corona or Margarita. And this year May 5th is also the day of the Kentucky Derby… so if Margaritas aren’t your thing, how about a Mint Julep??
— 30 —

I was reading about the “tax cuts” recently passed by Congress. Whoever wrote the article concluded that the new legislation wasn’t likely to alter the trend that seems to be that the rich are getting richer and the poor are getting poorer.

This brought to mind a study that was performed recently (I think it was published in New York magazine) that indicated that having a lot of money is not necessarily a benefit at least when it comes to embodying characteristics that lead to inner peace like empathy, honesty and compassion. One of the more interesting conclusions was that money can actually make you mean.

Another study at the University of California-Berkeley looked at the differences in the way rich and poor people think. The study found that the rich have less compassion for others — but — it isn’t because they have faulty “hard-wiring.” It’s because they lack an education from the school of Hard Knocks. They may just not be as adept at recognizing the cues and signals of suffering because they haven’t had to deal with as many obstacles in their lives. The study came to some other interesting conclusions, like: drivers of high-end luxury cars were more likely to cut off other drivers and the rich were more likely to prioritize their own self-interests above the interests of other people.

One could read the study and conclude that all rich people are jerks… of course that’s not true — rich people are just people and they come in various flavors and sizes and have different levels of empathy, honesty and compassion.

As you may have guessed, all this got me to thinking…. what does it mean to be “rich?” I guess that I don’t know any really rich people — at least not in the sense that most people think of as rich. If you ask me if I’m rich, the answer has to be, “yes!” Everyone can be rich in many ways — obviously you can be rich monetarily, but you can be rich emotionally, spiritually, socially, etc.

I certainly don’t have enough money to do all the things that would be nice to do, but if the market collapses and/or the economy goes south, we can probably still make ends meet and maintain a reasonable standard of living, I’m reasonably healthy, I have the very best wife in the world, the best kids and grandkids. We’re not social butterflies, but we have a good number of friends and enjoy socializing with them… I can sleep at night content. I’d say that comfortably puts me in the rich category — as someone once said, there is a gigantic difference between earning a great deal of money and being rich….
— 30 —

Claire has had a terrible cold for the last few days. At her request, I went to the drug store and got some Vicks VapoRub. There are isles and isles of “medicine” at the drug store and at least hundreds, if not thousands, of “medicines.” With help from someone in the store, I was able to find the Vicks… but it wasn’t easy — I didn’t even know which “category” of remedies it belonged to.

Needless to say, when I was little, drug stores didn’t have 10,000 types of medicine… there were just a few and they all did pretty much the same thing – they “cured what ailed you.” The medicines I remember when growing up that you didn’t get from the pharmacist, were referred to as “patent medicines.” Most of these were usually in your medicine cabinet — you didn’t just go to the drug store to get them only when you got sick. I remember the one thing that my mother always had, and used for everything — Campho-Phenique. Didn’t matter if you cut your finger, fell out of a tree, or off you bike, had a headache or your stomach hurt — just rub some Compho-Phenique on it and that fixed it.

I remember so-called patent medicines being advertised on the radio all the time. They were advertised as being medical miracles for a large number of diseases and most claimed to have exotic ingredients and a lot claimed to be endorsed by various experts or celebrities. I doubt that much, if any, of that was true. Liniments were very popular and said to cure all sorts of aches and pains. A couple of them claimed to contain snake oil and they were promoted [falsely] as cure-alls. You still hear the term snake oil salesman used with questionable business dealings.

Another thing that went by the wayside a long time ago was the medicine show. Medicine shows were kind of like traveling circuses or carnivals. They offered “acts” or entertainment of various kinds usually in a trailer or a tent and almost always had a “muscle man” or some big guy that developed all those muscles by using the product they were selling. There was never an admission fee — they made all their money selling the medicine…

Some of the products I remember hearing advertised on the radio and that we had around our house were Witch Hazel, Midol, Phillips’ Milk of Magnesia, Smith Brothers Cough drops, Doan’s Pills, Bromo-Seltzer, Carter’s Little Liver Pills, BC Power, Bayer Aspirin, Hadacol, Castor Oil, Iodine, Mercurochrome and Vicks VapoRub.

There were probably others, but they don’t readily come to mind. I remember Bayer Aspirin and BC Powder were used for headaches, Carter’s Little Liver Pills supposedly cured all sorts of things not even related to the liver, of course Campho-Phenique cured pretty much everything, too. I remember that Hadacol was just “good for you.” If you cut your finger, Iodine burned like crazy, so I remember my mother using mercurochrome instead — I don’t know if it helped, but it turned your skin a bright red for a long time.

Anyhow, some of these remedies, like Vicks VapoRub, are still around — a lot, probably most, are not. I can’t say they were good or bad, but I survived without the 10,000 drugs available today — and — I must say, my body felt a lot better back then than it does today.
And don’t go bringing up that “age” argument…..
— 30 —