I know some of you don't look at farcebook. I shared this today after seeing another post that flooded my mind with a memory that I had to let out. The setting is a summer day in my youth:
I remember the little boy walking on the train tracks out in the country between the corn fields and woods. Those rails were stinging hot on bare feet in the sun. It was sensory overload when the creosote timber ties left a light scent in the air, and the course cinders that framed them were added in to the picture. The woods were cool with the sound of a babbling creek and taste of stolen sweet corn on my pallet. The thought of climbing shoeless back over the wire farm fence to get home often made you crawl through the culvert where the creek passed through under the tracks on the way to the pond. So young and naive that I had to check that no leaches had latched on to me in the creek. I now know that thought was a piece of wall mother installed in a vain attempt to keep me out of the water. Then up the mud bank and through the tall grassy field filled with sheep. A gravel drive and into grandma's house to find the pitcher of lemonade grandpa kept in the propane powered refridgerator where inevitably grandma would catch me drinking without a glass. Age now fills me with knowledge that escaped that youngster. For Grandpa in first sharing his pitcher of lemonade with me when I had gained the strength to hoist the prize high enough. He would drink heartily from the cold vessle then loudly sigh. It sounded like, "AHHHH" heavy on the h, and with great enthuisiasm. Little did I know he was setting me up to be caught by Grandma when participating in the ritual by myself. I stood in heaven on the tile floor with Grandpa. There was a wood frame screen door between us and the breeze-way. Grandpa had poured the cement in the breeze-way. Him and one of my Great Uncles had worn out a pair of trowls making it pollished smooth as glass. It was cool and removed the memories ingrained in the soles of your feet.
My hope is to inspire you to collect a long forgotten happy memory of your own.
Kitchen and family room have been combined with the new flooring installed. I will save the trim for rainy slow days. As I looked at making the floor flow into the living room, I noticed the 36" where someone had trimmed it in the past and hung a crude door. If I ever want to open the wall up, now is the best time. I will only have to re-cut one piece of floor to continue on. On to the pics.
When I was in Jr. High, I wanted to play saxophone in jazz band. Too many sax players so they asked if I wanted to play Bass Clarinet. It looked funky and sounded cool, so I said yes. Ended up having to fix 75% of the keys and pads because it had sat in the cabinet for so long, everything dried out.
Today I am thinking of one of those random meeting in life that leaves you contemplating how you were blessed with a Forrest Gump moment. I met a man in the early 80s over-seas. He was an elderly man that looked too old for his position in life. His rank was of a Tech Sergeant in the USAF. He lived in a Barracks ten miles from the main base near a sleepy little town called Feltwell. I wonder if he is still alive. He seamed a wise old man and told fantastic stories. I was impressed that he had been ferreted away to live his days out in obscurity. One day in particular stands out to me. I was prying do to the situation not rhyming or reasoning and I got him to discussing what lead to his predicament. A tale ensued pouring out a foreshadowing in immense darkness. The people he had been working with were all dead. On May 1st, 1946 one of them had a screw driver slip. It was a fatal mistake. One of the words that stuck in my mind was Manhattan. As in Manhattan Project. It was established in 1941 by Franklin D. Roosevelt. The accident occurred during a procedure that had became common to those in the room. They called it tickling the dragons tail. When the screw driver slipped there was a blue flash of light. There were three plutonium cores developed. The price of just one was $500,000,000.oo. The first 2 were used in Japan. The third one was played with in a lab. The dragon was woke up one day. It killed everyone in the room. This guy knew them all. There were details he knew that had locked him in the prison he lived in. I remember taking him to an outing at Silverstone Circuit. It always seamed we were watched where ever we went and he mainly stayed in the barracks. The guys around him were always an odd lot. I was on a long tour and over stayed it by half a year. He did not seam like he was ever going to leave. I left there after three and a half years. Uncle Sam was always giving me presents. One Friday they let me have a room mate that was in protective custody. I came home Monday afternoon and he was gone. I didn't ask any questions. So, when I was assigned to a barracks in the country, I didn't ask any questions. There were supposed to be 22 guys living there. There were only 11 of us. We had a maid. Everyone had a private room. We often chipped in and had large dinners or cook outs. The numbers just never jived. There was a steam plant that provided steam to our building through concrete covered trenches. Nearby I would bicycle to EOD's area and watch them play with det. cord and other things. It was foggy most days and rained over half the time. Summer was two weeks long with sun shine and temps in the lower 70s. The local pub imported Jack Daniels for me, kept my glass behind the bar and would put ice in my drink. When anyone else ordered a coke, it was served warm in the can. Most people did not have a refrigerator in their residence at the time. Meat was high priced and not helped by mad cow disease. I am still not allowed to donate blood. Now days I have to tell the blood drive people they don't want my blood. And they agree. Now I ask myself what I was doing there, and did he ever get to leave? I'll never know, and I don't ask questions.
Or seeing the men dressed in Homer Simpson suits open a cap and steam comes out of the dessert ground as the Homers all take off running from it. I couldn't leave because I didn't have permission to abandon my post.