Some of our class members have gone on to become public and private school teachers. My hat is off to you! I look back at our years at RHS and realize that we had some pretty darn good teachers – ones that actually cared that we learned and were changed in that process. Others, it seems now, used the opportunity at Rison to figure out what they wanted to do with their lives – and not much else!
We have different recollections, I’m sure, but the following are some that, in hindsight, seemed to put forth an extra effort to instill something tangible in us:
Mr. and Mrs. Roshell: I remember Mrs. Roshell as “the Librarian” but I’m sure she did much more. She was always kind, but direct as I recall. The same can be said for her husband, Andrew. Mr. Roshell had a sense of humor, but wanted us to take Geography seriously. He managed to tell a few stories along the way that made his class engaging. And, he put up with a lot of junk from our rambunctious behavior.
Mrs. Scarborough: If I could only re-take some of her classes. Goodness knows, she was serious about English – as she should have been. If she could only see the level of writing (I’m being generous) at my place of business. Do today’s graduates not worry about professional writing? I guess if it’s beyond text-messaging, it doesn’t matter anymore!
Mrs. Sadler: Again, I could use a few more of her Home Economics classes. I eat at Waffle House most of the time, partly because I didn’t pay attention to Mrs. Sadler. She seemed to know how to handle barbarians – and always did it with a twinkle in her eye!
Mr. Jones: I enjoyed Civics and the other classes the Mr. Jones taught. He had a way with the stories and wasn’t a bad bus driver either. I think we used to get under his skin sometimes, too!
Mr. Peek: I think Alan Peek still teaches in Benton or Bryant perhaps. He was a smart guy – almost too smart for his own good. Seems like the girls liked him a lot, can’t imagine why. I guess I enjoyed his classes, since I took both Biology and Advanced Biology. Or perhaps I just liked dead frogs and fetal pigs? (It sure was fun catching our own bullfrogs – do you remember those adventures?).
Mrs. Harvill: What a sweetheart! We gave Mrs. Harvill a hard time, probably because she was so kind. I wish we could take it all back. We were idiots most of the time.
There were lots of others. Who were your favorites? You can “comment” by clicking the comment link and adding your words. Please do – I’d like to know who’s reading this thing!
God Bless,
Ken
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Cars
I was reminiscing recently with my brother about our times in Rison and suddenly realized how much of a role that automobiles played in our lives. What would life in Rison have been like if we'd not had a personal car, family car or friend's car in which to ride around?
In 1973, a period movie was released entitled "American Graffiti." Anyone see that? I sure did. The theme of the movie was based mostly around teenage angst but, interestingly, it also depicted the importance of relationships...and cars! (Funny, but in looking up the movie information on the web, I noted that George Lucas of Starwars fame was the director. Too, even though I remembered a few name from the cast, I failed to realize that so many stars were in American Grafitti: Harrison Ford, Richard Dreyfuss, Cindy Williams, Ron Howard, Wolfman Jack and even a very short cameo by Suzanne Somers - the mysterious blond that Richard Dreyfuss chased throughout the movie).
We had our own version of American Grafitti in Rison, though we didn't have as many places to "cruise." As I recall, our opportunities were limited to Highway 35 in front of the Dairy Dip or the Car Wash.
On any given night of any given weekend, we'd see Phil Green whiz by in a Mustang (he had a couple I think). Mickey Coats drove a Chevy "Goodtimes" Van it seems; rumor has it that some "good times" were had therein. Ronnie Word drove his dad's blue Dodge truck forever and Mark Trucks had a Ford Torino (wasn't it?). Mark Cathey had this green Ford Maverick as I remember and it seems that sister Kelley wound up with a white Chevy Vega in our senior year.
The Herbine-Macedonia-Pansy crowd would make it through town occasionally. Joe Rauls was a Chevy guy; seems like a Malibu? Freddy Terry...I can't remember. Nor can I remember what Joanie Lunsford or Mary Cummings Vallance or Steve Edwards drove during those years - so I expect some feedback please!
Suzy Pate Lunsford breezed around in a Mercedes. Yes, a diesel Mercedes! (By the way, Suzy, I NEVER got invited to ride in your car!). Typically, you'd see Suzy, Jeannie Phillips...and a third member of their standard trio (but my memory fails). And Jennifer Bell Sipes' car? Help me out...what was it?
Who am I forgetting? Upper classmen had some very cool wheels: Butch Lunsford with a Chevy SS, Steve Pate drove a Dodge Challenger for a while and Ricky Rauls a Pontiac GTO (which Roy Phillips inherited and subsequently drove into the ground). Terry Sipes had a Pontiac Grand Prix that was amazingly fast - too fast for my family-style Dodge Charger that I borrowed when I could afford the gas.
One quick story which should get a laugh: my first attempt at dating was a disaster. I had asked Susan Cash Wentz to "meet me after the game" at the school gym. I think I was maybe 15 at the time (not legal to drive) and all of 4' 10" tall. Susan was at least a head taller that me. Despite the law, I somehow convinced my Dad to allow me to borrow the family car (at that time a Dodge Coronet). I could barely see over the steering wheel, but I drove around and around the school until I thought Susan had arrived (it was an "away" game and she was to be delivered via the Band Bus). During the process of looping the school, I saw the local Barney Fife (whoever that was at the time) and frantically backed all the way down the back drive of the school campus, turning the corner and ducking into Suzy Pate Lunsford's driveway (which would have been a great time to ask for a ride in the Mercedes, by the way).
Despite my best effort, erratic driving and lots of Aqua Velva, I missed Susan somehow and went home discouraged (sniff!). But, to my credit, I dodged the police and made it home without any calamities.
Besides, picking up Susan would have been embarrassing anyway. Taking your first date home while driving on a pillow isn't cool - in any generation!
Cheers,
Ken
In 1973, a period movie was released entitled "American Graffiti." Anyone see that? I sure did. The theme of the movie was based mostly around teenage angst but, interestingly, it also depicted the importance of relationships...and cars! (Funny, but in looking up the movie information on the web, I noted that George Lucas of Starwars fame was the director. Too, even though I remembered a few name from the cast, I failed to realize that so many stars were in American Grafitti: Harrison Ford, Richard Dreyfuss, Cindy Williams, Ron Howard, Wolfman Jack and even a very short cameo by Suzanne Somers - the mysterious blond that Richard Dreyfuss chased throughout the movie).We had our own version of American Grafitti in Rison, though we didn't have as many places to "cruise." As I recall, our opportunities were limited to Highway 35 in front of the Dairy Dip or the Car Wash.
On any given night of any given weekend, we'd see Phil Green whiz by in a Mustang (he had a couple I think). Mickey Coats drove a Chevy "Goodtimes" Van it seems; rumor has it that some "good times" were had therein. Ronnie Word drove his dad's blue Dodge truck forever and Mark Trucks had a Ford Torino (wasn't it?). Mark Cathey had this green Ford Maverick as I remember and it seems that sister Kelley wound up with a white Chevy Vega in our senior year.
The Herbine-Macedonia-Pansy crowd would make it through town occasionally. Joe Rauls was a Chevy guy; seems like a Malibu? Freddy Terry...I can't remember. Nor can I remember what Joanie Lunsford or Mary Cummings Vallance or Steve Edwards drove during those years - so I expect some feedback please!
Suzy Pate Lunsford breezed around in a Mercedes. Yes, a diesel Mercedes! (By the way, Suzy, I NEVER got invited to ride in your car!). Typically, you'd see Suzy, Jeannie Phillips...and a third member of their standard trio (but my memory fails). And Jennifer Bell Sipes' car? Help me out...what was it?
Who am I forgetting? Upper classmen had some very cool wheels: Butch Lunsford with a Chevy SS, Steve Pate drove a Dodge Challenger for a while and Ricky Rauls a Pontiac GTO (which Roy Phillips inherited and subsequently drove into the ground). Terry Sipes had a Pontiac Grand Prix that was amazingly fast - too fast for my family-style Dodge Charger that I borrowed when I could afford the gas.
One quick story which should get a laugh: my first attempt at dating was a disaster. I had asked Susan Cash Wentz to "meet me after the game" at the school gym. I think I was maybe 15 at the time (not legal to drive) and all of 4' 10" tall. Susan was at least a head taller that me. Despite the law, I somehow convinced my Dad to allow me to borrow the family car (at that time a Dodge Coronet). I could barely see over the steering wheel, but I drove around and around the school until I thought Susan had arrived (it was an "away" game and she was to be delivered via the Band Bus). During the process of looping the school, I saw the local Barney Fife (whoever that was at the time) and frantically backed all the way down the back drive of the school campus, turning the corner and ducking into Suzy Pate Lunsford's driveway (which would have been a great time to ask for a ride in the Mercedes, by the way).
Despite my best effort, erratic driving and lots of Aqua Velva, I missed Susan somehow and went home discouraged (sniff!). But, to my credit, I dodged the police and made it home without any calamities.
Besides, picking up Susan would have been embarrassing anyway. Taking your first date home while driving on a pillow isn't cool - in any generation!
Cheers,
Ken
Saturday, January 19, 2008
William Miller: Our Own Darren McFadden
That's not a racial comment, in case you were wondering. William Miller ("Duck") could just as well have been a Matt Jones or Tom Brady. It's just more convenient to compare him to McFadden, since DMac has been in the news so much this year for the Razorbacks. "Duck" Miller won games for us in 1974-75 that were otherwise going down in the "L" column. I'm sure you remember some of those.
We had good talent among our 1975 football squad, especially considering that our school drew from a pretty shallow talent pool. William, like most of our upper classmen with a modicum of athleticism, played most of the game. By "most of the game" I mean he rarely rested during the entire 4 quarters each Friday night. We didn't have a lot of depth - and the "extras" on the sidelines unfortunately played at a simliar level as me. We "sideliners" should have started a bridge club; at least we would have been productive!
I'll leave it up to ya'll to recount the many moments when we said under our breath, "Lord, just give Duck the ball!" When William touched the football, good things usually happened.
William played other sports as well. He was fast; that meant he saw action on the hardwood as well as the track and on the gridiron. We were lucky to have him. But, we were lucky to have others that we had as well. There are too many to mention, but as a team, we fared pretty well. After all, for a team that went 0-9 in 9th grade (wasn't it?), we sure turned things around the next few years.
I always joke about my time on the football team. I was lucky to weigh more than 100 pounds soaking wet (something has gone horribly wrong since then, however). But, from the vantage point of the sidelines, I could catch all of the action. Too, I was able to chit-chat with the cheerleaders - but they typically were dating real football players that actually got dirty during the game. (Trust me - I asked!). In retrospect, the band might have been a better place for me - and I would have gotten far more exercise than I did standing on the sidelines.
Regardless, I wouldn't trade anything for the friendships and experiences that I had during my high school years calling myself a football player. I was able collaborate with a group of guys that displayed real talent, leadership and athleticism long before there were any Darren Mcfaddens hogging up the sports news.
Like I said, William Miller was the first Darren McFadden that I ever knew - and I'd of voted William for the Heisman, if that were only possible.
-Ken
We had good talent among our 1975 football squad, especially considering that our school drew from a pretty shallow talent pool. William, like most of our upper classmen with a modicum of athleticism, played most of the game. By "most of the game" I mean he rarely rested during the entire 4 quarters each Friday night. We didn't have a lot of depth - and the "extras" on the sidelines unfortunately played at a simliar level as me. We "sideliners" should have started a bridge club; at least we would have been productive!
I'll leave it up to ya'll to recount the many moments when we said under our breath, "Lord, just give Duck the ball!" When William touched the football, good things usually happened.
William played other sports as well. He was fast; that meant he saw action on the hardwood as well as the track and on the gridiron. We were lucky to have him. But, we were lucky to have others that we had as well. There are too many to mention, but as a team, we fared pretty well. After all, for a team that went 0-9 in 9th grade (wasn't it?), we sure turned things around the next few years.
I always joke about my time on the football team. I was lucky to weigh more than 100 pounds soaking wet (something has gone horribly wrong since then, however). But, from the vantage point of the sidelines, I could catch all of the action. Too, I was able to chit-chat with the cheerleaders - but they typically were dating real football players that actually got dirty during the game. (Trust me - I asked!). In retrospect, the band might have been a better place for me - and I would have gotten far more exercise than I did standing on the sidelines.
Regardless, I wouldn't trade anything for the friendships and experiences that I had during my high school years calling myself a football player. I was able collaborate with a group of guys that displayed real talent, leadership and athleticism long before there were any Darren Mcfaddens hogging up the sports news.
Like I said, William Miller was the first Darren McFadden that I ever knew - and I'd of voted William for the Heisman, if that were only possible.
-Ken
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Rolling on the River
Traditionally, towns across the US were established near bodies of water for various reasons. Rison, no doubt, enjoyed the access provided by the Lower Saline River and the other benefits it brought. Like most of us, the availability of Saline River and the opportunity for fun and mischief is certainly part of my fond memories of Rison.Saline River isn't exactly a recreational treasure by standards that you see posted in vacation propaganda, but it did provide our class of '75 with ample opportunities to gather, fish, swim and an assortment of other activities that I'll skip for the sake of brevity (or for politeness!).
My first real attempt at swimming came via the Saline; I would never recommend the approach my brother and I took. Neither Spiderman or I could 'swim a lick,' yet we agreed to pile into someone's car and bump our way down to the Mt. Elba access point on Saline River to take our chances. Only by the grace of God do we still breath today! It scares me to think that in our great wisdom, we dove into the murky waters of Saline on a dare! At 15 (or whatever age it was) the last thing we wanted was to be labled "chicken." If the water had been running fast, which I assume it wasn't, my brother and I wouldn't be here today. (Naturally, there were no adults around). But, somehow we "dog paddled" our way back to the river's edge multiple times that day, only to turn around and dive in again and again. I wasn't the smart one in our class, remember?
Later in life, the Saline provided what we then called "fellowship opportunities." I mean, we could either hang out at the car wash, or drive down to the river. Often, the river sounded more appealing. These events were typically held at night, as a rule. Looking back from the vantage point of age 50, those nocturnal explorations just don't hold quite the charm that they did back then -but I would hope that I've learned a few things since 1975.
I seem to recall actually fishing the Saline a few times, but don't remember catching anything but a few boney Perch or whatever. I'm sure that there were better places in Cleveland county that I could have fished, but then, fishing wasn't really the point, now was it?
During the hot summer months, there were some places along the Saline that were actually pretty crowded. I guess that was due mostly to the fact that these river access points were free of charge and because they were convenient. And also because we stay bored most of the time during summer months. Again, I fail to see the appeal today - but, in fact, I'm still not much of a swimmer!
Funny thing: looking at the map, you'd think that some adventureous class member would have suggested a float trip. Maybe none of us had a canoe? Or...maybe I just wasn't invited? Hmmm....
-Ken
Monday, January 14, 2008
More Hits from 1975!
Hey guys!
I've stumbled across another gold mine! The link below takes you to all of the Top 100 hits (by month) of 1975!
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hot_100_number-one_hits_of_1975_%28USA%29
Do you remember how our departed classmate, Jack Greenway, just loved Elton John? I didn't at first, but really started loving his music before year's end. And, Mark Cathey was crazy about ZZ Top and Led Zeplin. (Who new that Mark was into heavy metal?) And Mickey Coats, Ronnie Word, Freddy Terry, Gary Brewer and others used to listen for hours to Cheech and Chong! Remember them?
Music, I guess, is a vital part of all generations. It's a good thing we didn't have iPods!
-Ken
I've stumbled across another gold mine! The link below takes you to all of the Top 100 hits (by month) of 1975!
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hot_100_number-one_hits_of_1975_%28USA%29
Do you remember how our departed classmate, Jack Greenway, just loved Elton John? I didn't at first, but really started loving his music before year's end. And, Mark Cathey was crazy about ZZ Top and Led Zeplin. (Who new that Mark was into heavy metal?) And Mickey Coats, Ronnie Word, Freddy Terry, Gary Brewer and others used to listen for hours to Cheech and Chong! Remember them?
Music, I guess, is a vital part of all generations. It's a good thing we didn't have iPods!
-Ken
Sunday, January 13, 2008
What was the 'Dill' with Pickles?
Everyone remembers the Concession Stand, right? Gosh, the stories we could tell...
Nobody remembers this now, but I was President of the Student Council during my Senior year at RHS. (Yeah, I know, it doesn't mean anything 30+ years later, but it did get me a free pass to work the concession stand at lunch time each day. And, I did get offer Mr. Cash a Frito / Coke peace offering every now and then...a small but effective price to pay for all the crap that Mr. Cash had to tolerate from me and the rest of my heathen brothers! (Susan, if you read this, please tell your Dad that we're sorry!).
But, back to the Concession Stand (I capitalize the name because we always thought of the Stand as some kind of Holy Shrine, right?): why did we start eating so many dill pickles and, especially perplexing, why did we DRINK THE JUICE??? Do you guys remember that little bit of history?
Every weekday, without fail, we would sell mountains of Cracker Jack carmel popcorn, dozens of Milk Duds, boxes of Bit 'O Honeys, bags of Funyuns, Fritos, dozens of cups of Coke, Sprite, Mr. Pibb...and pickle juice! Pickle juice? So, when exactly did we develop an addiction to vinegar?
But, I loved those times! Mark Trucks (who wasn't a Council member) would often accompany me out to the Stand and help out where needed. Yet, I would pitch a fit if anybody else wanted to come into the Stand during lunch. I guess I showed preferential treatment. Sorry about that! I think Mark must've preferred junk food to lunch room-brand food, and I guess I can't blame him. Soy-burgers were not exactly a 'taste treat' if you'll recall.
We had funny eating habits that by today's standards are not healthful. I don' t know about you guys, but I NEVER ate in the school cafeteria. And, too, back then, the campus was closed as I remember. So, we couldn't leave - at least, not legally. 'Course, we skipped on occasion, but that is another story to tell.
The Concession Stand, then, was our Starbucks. It was a place of fellowship that still holds fond memories for all of us, I'm certain. There were romances that were started there - and many that were ended. Fights broke out between boys and sometimes between boys and girls. And, if you'll remember, there wasn't a chair to be found...we all stood around and laughed and talked - or maybe sat on the sidewalk. There were some that walked down to the bleachers and sat..then there were others that sneaked off under the bleachers and did whatever (kissed, smoked, or chewed..or all the above).
So, the Stand was a part of our culture, a gathering place where we relaxed, gossiped, swooned, fought and otherwise "chilled" or whatever we called it then. It was part of the fabric of our lives then - and frankly, I miss those moments.
-Ken
PS: I drank pickle juice too!
Nobody remembers this now, but I was President of the Student Council during my Senior year at RHS. (Yeah, I know, it doesn't mean anything 30+ years later, but it did get me a free pass to work the concession stand at lunch time each day. And, I did get offer Mr. Cash a Frito / Coke peace offering every now and then...a small but effective price to pay for all the crap that Mr. Cash had to tolerate from me and the rest of my heathen brothers! (Susan, if you read this, please tell your Dad that we're sorry!).
But, back to the Concession Stand (I capitalize the name because we always thought of the Stand as some kind of Holy Shrine, right?): why did we start eating so many dill pickles and, especially perplexing, why did we DRINK THE JUICE??? Do you guys remember that little bit of history?
Every weekday, without fail, we would sell mountains of Cracker Jack carmel popcorn, dozens of Milk Duds, boxes of Bit 'O Honeys, bags of Funyuns, Fritos, dozens of cups of Coke, Sprite, Mr. Pibb...and pickle juice! Pickle juice? So, when exactly did we develop an addiction to vinegar?
But, I loved those times! Mark Trucks (who wasn't a Council member) would often accompany me out to the Stand and help out where needed. Yet, I would pitch a fit if anybody else wanted to come into the Stand during lunch. I guess I showed preferential treatment. Sorry about that! I think Mark must've preferred junk food to lunch room-brand food, and I guess I can't blame him. Soy-burgers were not exactly a 'taste treat' if you'll recall.
We had funny eating habits that by today's standards are not healthful. I don' t know about you guys, but I NEVER ate in the school cafeteria. And, too, back then, the campus was closed as I remember. So, we couldn't leave - at least, not legally. 'Course, we skipped on occasion, but that is another story to tell.
The Concession Stand, then, was our Starbucks. It was a place of fellowship that still holds fond memories for all of us, I'm certain. There were romances that were started there - and many that were ended. Fights broke out between boys and sometimes between boys and girls. And, if you'll remember, there wasn't a chair to be found...we all stood around and laughed and talked - or maybe sat on the sidewalk. There were some that walked down to the bleachers and sat..then there were others that sneaked off under the bleachers and did whatever (kissed, smoked, or chewed..or all the above).
So, the Stand was a part of our culture, a gathering place where we relaxed, gossiped, swooned, fought and otherwise "chilled" or whatever we called it then. It was part of the fabric of our lives then - and frankly, I miss those moments.
-Ken
PS: I drank pickle juice too!
Friday, January 4, 2008
Innocence Lost
Somewhere around 32 years ago, I could never have envisioned me sitting at a computer writing the words "I miss Rison." But, something happened on New Year's day that made me realize I'd lost something that I could never get back.
Mom and I had finished watching that wretched Cotton Bowl game - or most of it anyway. We moved to her den where I turned on Mom's computer to check out Mom's latest "its just not working right" complaint. (Mom actually commands a very good understanding of her Dell and the Internet, which turns out to be quite a blessing for retired parents).
During the random conversation that we were having between mouse clicks, something came up about the neighborhood and a few of the children that lived nearby. Mom is blessed with great neighbors: Sheriff Joe Paul lives across the yard, the Methodist minister and his wife live across the street and people that Mom have known for years live within a stone's throw. But, then she mentioned Ty, a second-grader that pops in occasionally and his best buddy, a big, strapping 3rd grader whose name I've forgotten - again!
I was amused at some of the stories Mom told: Ty frequently comes knocking soon after Mom gets home from church on Sunday afternoons; Ty's buddy stops in to say "the stray dog has gotten into your garbage, Mrs. Tillman, but don't worry, I'll pick it up" etc, etc. Both of these boys sounded like a story out of a Norman Rockellian painting. I could just picture them with their little camo-caps on, roaming the neighborhood without a care in the world, picking up free cookies and cocoa from every house on the block...so I asked Mom to give them a ring. I wanted to meet them first hand.
They came over immediately. I mean, there was no "I'm watching TV" excuses or "I don't want to" kind of backtalk. Just, "Yes Ma'am" and "we'll be right over, Mrs. Tillman." And they did. And I was amazed.
I guess I was a little mystified that this day and time, kids that age actually would want to come over and say hello to a 50 year old guy that wanted to meet them. And, it wasn't obligatory...they were actually willing to drop their "fireworks shooting" to spend a few minutes with Mrs. Tillman and her son.
And, so, I'm amazed. I'd forgotten that some towns still exist today where children are polite and actually look out for older folks - and still treat them with the greatest care. I thanked the boys for looking after Mom. They acted like it was nothing. But, it was something, it was really, really something. Way to go, Rison! You're a cool town after all - and I wish I could go back an relive the times when I could ride my bike, go to baseball games, stop by and talk to the neighbors and be known around town. That doesn't happen near enough anymore!
God Bless ya'll,
Ken
Mom and I had finished watching that wretched Cotton Bowl game - or most of it anyway. We moved to her den where I turned on Mom's computer to check out Mom's latest "its just not working right" complaint. (Mom actually commands a very good understanding of her Dell and the Internet, which turns out to be quite a blessing for retired parents).
During the random conversation that we were having between mouse clicks, something came up about the neighborhood and a few of the children that lived nearby. Mom is blessed with great neighbors: Sheriff Joe Paul lives across the yard, the Methodist minister and his wife live across the street and people that Mom have known for years live within a stone's throw. But, then she mentioned Ty, a second-grader that pops in occasionally and his best buddy, a big, strapping 3rd grader whose name I've forgotten - again!
I was amused at some of the stories Mom told: Ty frequently comes knocking soon after Mom gets home from church on Sunday afternoons; Ty's buddy stops in to say "the stray dog has gotten into your garbage, Mrs. Tillman, but don't worry, I'll pick it up" etc, etc. Both of these boys sounded like a story out of a Norman Rockellian painting. I could just picture them with their little camo-caps on, roaming the neighborhood without a care in the world, picking up free cookies and cocoa from every house on the block...so I asked Mom to give them a ring. I wanted to meet them first hand.
They came over immediately. I mean, there was no "I'm watching TV" excuses or "I don't want to" kind of backtalk. Just, "Yes Ma'am" and "we'll be right over, Mrs. Tillman." And they did. And I was amazed.
I guess I was a little mystified that this day and time, kids that age actually would want to come over and say hello to a 50 year old guy that wanted to meet them. And, it wasn't obligatory...they were actually willing to drop their "fireworks shooting" to spend a few minutes with Mrs. Tillman and her son.
And, so, I'm amazed. I'd forgotten that some towns still exist today where children are polite and actually look out for older folks - and still treat them with the greatest care. I thanked the boys for looking after Mom. They acted like it was nothing. But, it was something, it was really, really something. Way to go, Rison! You're a cool town after all - and I wish I could go back an relive the times when I could ride my bike, go to baseball games, stop by and talk to the neighbors and be known around town. That doesn't happen near enough anymore!
God Bless ya'll,
Ken
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
PEP Bus Blues
Before our "more serious academic years," I remember riding the Pep Bus to football games. Do you remember what you did on the Pep Bus? (Please use some discretion when commenting back!).
Ronnie Word and I rode the Pep Bus occasionally when we were in junior high. Now, Ronnie was the kind of kid back then that had sideburns in the 7th grade (and I do hope he reads this). I mean, really, sideburns! To this day, I'd settle for a beard of any kind!
I always thought Ronnie was cool. He had sideburns and long hair! I'd usually do about anything Ronnie suggested, which at times wound up getting me in trouble - but I'll save those recollections for another post. So, during out pre-trip planning, Ronnie dared me to "get some lip" during the bus ride, with someone of my choosing. (That's what we called it in those days - "getting lip." We didn't use words like "kiss." I only wish our kids today were that innocent). We actually planned this, mind you. Instead of paying attention - like we should have been - in Mrs. Scarborough's junior high English class, we were scheming as to the best method for stealing a kiss from our favorite sweetie.
I'm not sure who Ronnie saddled up to ('cause with sideburns, you could play the field) but I think I wound up sitting next to Gina Houston. (Thank you, Gina.) I'm certain that I either won her over with my school boy charms, or else she felt like baby sitting. (At 14 or so, I looked probably 9). You know, Gina was a cheerleader and nothing could be hotter than trying to kiss a cheerleader. In fact, when I think about it...sorry, I digress...back to the bus...
Gina allowed me to sit with her, for which I am eternally grateful. It was either on the way to the game, or the way back...can't remember. But, the following was my "plan" to steal her affections (Ronnie was a mastermind at this, all the credit goes to Sideburn Boy): I was to pretend that I wanted to tell her a secret, see? I'd put my arm around her, have her lean over so that nobody could hear "the secret" then, BAM, lay one on her!
And, it worked...sort of. I was able to execute "the plan" but I think I made her ear bleed! If you'll recall, the roads to wherever we were going were NEVER smooth and the busses were NEVER new and about the time I was ready to unload an "Elvis Presley" style smooch, the bus lurched - and I think I plunged my tooth into her little ear.
It wasn't my best move, to say the least. Ronnie got four kisses, I got ear flesh. But, it sure beat riding with my parents.
That's okay though...I always leaned a bit to the dramatic side. Not everyone got to bite off part of a girl's ear on a Pep Bus.
So, what did you do on the Pep Bus trips (beside singing to the strains of "...nah, nah, nah-nah, nah, nah, nah-nah, hey, hey, hey...goodbye")?
-Ken
Ronnie Word and I rode the Pep Bus occasionally when we were in junior high. Now, Ronnie was the kind of kid back then that had sideburns in the 7th grade (and I do hope he reads this). I mean, really, sideburns! To this day, I'd settle for a beard of any kind!
I always thought Ronnie was cool. He had sideburns and long hair! I'd usually do about anything Ronnie suggested, which at times wound up getting me in trouble - but I'll save those recollections for another post. So, during out pre-trip planning, Ronnie dared me to "get some lip" during the bus ride, with someone of my choosing. (That's what we called it in those days - "getting lip." We didn't use words like "kiss." I only wish our kids today were that innocent). We actually planned this, mind you. Instead of paying attention - like we should have been - in Mrs. Scarborough's junior high English class, we were scheming as to the best method for stealing a kiss from our favorite sweetie.
I'm not sure who Ronnie saddled up to ('cause with sideburns, you could play the field) but I think I wound up sitting next to Gina Houston. (Thank you, Gina.) I'm certain that I either won her over with my school boy charms, or else she felt like baby sitting. (At 14 or so, I looked probably 9). You know, Gina was a cheerleader and nothing could be hotter than trying to kiss a cheerleader. In fact, when I think about it...sorry, I digress...back to the bus...
Gina allowed me to sit with her, for which I am eternally grateful. It was either on the way to the game, or the way back...can't remember. But, the following was my "plan" to steal her affections (Ronnie was a mastermind at this, all the credit goes to Sideburn Boy): I was to pretend that I wanted to tell her a secret, see? I'd put my arm around her, have her lean over so that nobody could hear "the secret" then, BAM, lay one on her!
And, it worked...sort of. I was able to execute "the plan" but I think I made her ear bleed! If you'll recall, the roads to wherever we were going were NEVER smooth and the busses were NEVER new and about the time I was ready to unload an "Elvis Presley" style smooch, the bus lurched - and I think I plunged my tooth into her little ear.
It wasn't my best move, to say the least. Ronnie got four kisses, I got ear flesh. But, it sure beat riding with my parents.
That's okay though...I always leaned a bit to the dramatic side. Not everyone got to bite off part of a girl's ear on a Pep Bus.
So, what did you do on the Pep Bus trips (beside singing to the strains of "...nah, nah, nah-nah, nah, nah, nah-nah, hey, hey, hey...goodbye")?
-Ken
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