Memories

Donny and I were driving down highway 41 through Dalton the other week. We passed the old Coca Cola bottling plant and the bowling alley. I saw the little yellow brick building that used to be the State Patrol Station. I wonder how many people remember that. On up the street was a store standing where my favorite store used to be. Wood's Store used to be there. I always get nostalgic when I go by that place, even though the old building had been torn down long ago.


I told Donny about my favorite memory of going to Mr. Wood's store. Pawpaw took me and my cousins, Randy and Mike, to the store many times. We all lived near Pawpaw and he was a good and generous grampa who bought us plenty of candy and soft drinks. It was always a treat to go anyplace with our grandparents.


One time my cousins were all together so Pawpaw took us all to the store. Randy, Debbie, Stevie, Eddie, me, and probably Mike went to the store. I'm not sure Donna was with us. We all rode in the back of his old cattle truck. I remember how much fun we had riding along with the wind whipping around us as we all laughed and jockeyed around the back of the truck. We lived several miles from the store so we felt like we were on an adventure.


It's a wonder we didn't fall, or push someone out. Nowadays somebody would call the law on you for having a truckload of young ones, but when I was growing up kids must have had more sense because we rode in truck beds all the time.


When we got to Mr. Wood's, Pawpaw told us all we could get one drink apiece and some candy. We all swarmed over the sides of the truck and into the dingy little store. Woods' was unique because you had to walk into the store through an aisle with low tables lining each side filled with every kind of candy you could imagine. It was kid-friendly and heavenly. 


While Pawpaw went on into the store and talked to Mr. Woods we were squealing and arguing over which candy was the best and what we were going to pick. Pawpaw got a coke and propped up against the counter bragging about all his grandkids. He was telling the old coots that liked to hang out at the store who we were and who our parents were. Pawpaw acted tickled to death to bring us all to the store. 


After Pawpaw paid for our purchases we all climbed back in the back of the truck to wait. Pawpaw stood around smoking with the old men from the store and after they finished their conversation he took us home. 


What more perfect memory than that wonderful time that Pawpaw took us all to Mr. Wood's grocery store? 


I have to be honest. I don't remember if it said Woods on the store or Wood's so bear with me if you can remember and know the difference. 

As Always

PIO

Party Down Yall

I must have been a socially awkward teenager because my mother got it into her head one time that I should have a party and invite all my friends. I looked at her like she had grown two heads. Was she crazy? I didn't have lots of friends. I only had a couple of close friends and I didn't know anything about throwing a party. I think Moma was worried about me because I wasn't a social butterfly and she wanted to help me make friends. So we decided to have a party.

I told my two friends, and they told their two friends, and they told their two friends, and so on and so forth until everyone wanted to come to the party. My cousins, Randy and Mike, lived next door so all their friends wanted to come, too. Before long we had a crowd.

We played spin the bottle and I remember walking around the house with a boy named Joel. He kissed me. When we walked on around the house we came upon my dog, Rip. Rip was a German Shepard. We had him chained up at the corner of the house. He jumped at Joel and barked. Rip scared Joel to death. I should have taken note of that.*  All the boys had to maneuver past Rip to circle the house. It still didn't deter the boys from playing the game.

I felt nauseous the next day and blamed it on the kiss. I decided not to kiss any more boys.

I went into my bedroom during the party and caught a bunch of girls dousing themselves in my huge bottle of Ambush cologne that my mother had bought me. They were having so much fun they didn't care.

Daddy had piled an old dog house next to the creek to burn when it got dark for a fire. He had hooked the trailer to the tractor and piled hay on it for a hay ride. Daddy drove the tractor around the neighborhood and let the kids ride on it until everyone had an opportunity to go on the hayride.

The boys hung out around the fire together. Daddy tried to get them to roast marshmallows or hot dogs over the fire but they all refused. They didn't want to cook their food over a dirty old dog house even if it was on fire.

Everyone seemed to be having fun except for me and Moma. I was so busy making sure there was food and snacks for everyone and helping Moma keep everything clean that I didn't really have much time to enjoy my own party. While everyone was wandering around talking and laughing I was busy in the house. I started to realize that having a party wasn't as much fun as it sounded.

Moma had parked her Chevrolet Impala in the yard in front of the living room. There was a power pole in the front yard, too. We watched Bobby rare back and sling his RC cola bottle toward the creek. At least, I think that was what he was trying to do. The RC bottle hit the wood power pole and ricocheted sideways into  the windshield, causing it to shatter, then bounce towards the living room window. It barely missed.

Bobby started apologizing over and over again. Moma and I were worried about how Daddy would take it. We sat on the carport talking about the accident and wondering what he would say. When he came home Moma told him about the boy and the RC bottle. She said she was surprised because he didn't get upset about it. He said it could have been worse. He seemed to enjoy the party. 

They got the windshield fixed. The funny thing is, the RC bottle didn't even break. I wouldn't want to get hit over the head with one. They're tough.

Teenage parties are not going to turn out well. It doesn't matter how well you think you have things planned. Some idiot is going to do something to show everybody else he is the biggest idiot and something's going to get broke, or set on fire, or blown up. That's probably why I didn't want to have any more parties.

Well, Moma did talk me into having a pajama party one time . . . .

*Love on the Run, January 2011


AS ALWAYS PIO

Go Pam Go

I was fifteen years old when I learned to drive. Moma said I needed to learn to drive a stick shift before I learned to drive an automatic so she taught me how to drive her car. She had a 1959 Impala. When I got my learner's license she would let me drive on straight-aways so that I could get the feel of the car. Moma chided me for being a lead foot and tried to get me to keep it between the lines. We had a few close calls. When I had to stop for red lights on hills she jumped over next to me to keep the car from rolling back more than once. She accused me of making her hair turn grey.

What can I say? I was a wild child. I was driving a float! The Impala had wings and it was white. It was huge. I couldn't see well when I backed up and driving forward wasn't much better. But I loved driving. I would beg people to let me drive but nobody ever trusted me. I can't say I blame them.

I remember my cousins, Randy and Debbie, were at my house once and Moma said I could drive the Impala out to my grandmother's house which was two houses down. Randy lived in the house between my grandparents and me. We were all very close when we were young. I don't remember if we were supposed to bring a bowl or something to Beulah's house for Moma or why Moma agreed to let me take the car. I just remember that she told me to go out there and come right back. Debbie and Randy were going to ride to Beulah's with me.

We pulled out of the driveway and started to my grandmother Beulah's house. By the time we got to the drive way someone said something about taking the car down the road. Somebody else agreed with the idea. As the driver I made a split second decision to drive on down the road a piece. We were only going to go a little further and turn around. The trouble was, I began to be scared that I'd pull into somebody's driveway and not be able to back out fast enough and someone might hit us on one of the hills. Dug Gap is a very hilly road with lots of dips and curves. Some people use the road like a drag strip.

I kept driving further and further trying to find some place to turn around. I was sweating it because I knew we were going to be in trouble. Instead of a five minute trip I was headed to the end of Dug Gap. I got about two miles down the road before I finally turned around in somebody's drive way. Mailboxes were across the road from the drive way. I backed so close to the mailboxes that the slanted antenna bent straight up and snapped. Ah, busted. I was in deep crap now.

Any joy I may have felt in our little joyride was gone. Poof! I didn't know what was going to happen to Debbie and Randy but I had a pretty good idea what was going to happen to me. It wasn't a pretty picture. We headed towards home and drove to our grandmother's house. Maybe she could protect us.

I had to go home and tell Moma that I broke the antenna when I took the car. She was very mad at me for taking the car down the road without permission. She knew how mad Daddy would get. I don't know if he was more upset because I took the car or because I broke the antenna but Moma took the blame for me and told him she had let me take the car. She just didn't tell him she only meant to Beulah's house. I always hated putting Moma in that position.

My mother earned every one of those grey hairs. She earned half of them the day she tried to teach me how to pass. I had been riding a cars bumper when she told me that I should pass them. We were going north on Highway 41 up the steep grade near the Carmichael's.

I got up even with an old truck and started up that grade. I kept trying to get around them but couldn't get up enough speed. I was focused on passing the truck so hard that I didn't let up on the gas. Moma started getting so excited that she started yelling Go Pam Go, over and over again. I thought she was cheering me on. Moma was frantically banging on the dash yelling Go Pam Go when I realized she wasn't yelling Go Pam Go. She was yelling No! Pam! No!

I looked up and a semi truck had crested the hill and was barreling down directly towards us. The driver in the old truck wasn't giving an inch and I was about to kill us. My God! I let off the gas and fell in behind the vehicle. After Moma collected her nerves and new grey hairs she gave me a good lecture and told me she'd let my daddy teach me how to drive from now on.

Daddy drove a big green boxy Ford truck with a green plywood homemade camper on back. He decided to teach me the right way to pass somebody when we were going camping one time. We were on windy curvy roads and I didn't really want to practice there. He kept insisting until I pulled up alongside a vehicle. Daddy told me to speed up and pass them, then pull in front of them.

I did exactly what Daddy said but I didn't check my mirrors to be sure I was far enough ahead of them. I cut into their lane and nearly ran over them. Daddy got mad and started yelling at me about cutting people off. I had no idea about watching my mirrors and I couldn't even see out of those big ass truck mirrors. That's the day I decided I'd never pass anything unless they were really, really slow. Better that than me plowing into somebody.

AS ALWAYS

PIO

That's A Downer

Hey Man, don't ya  just hate it when something or someone brings you down? Like the young folks used to say, "Chill out, Man!"

I hate the feeling of anger. It can consume you. I don't like that red hot feeling that comes over me when I am angry. I become enraged and want to lash out. I have tried to learn to contain and control my anger for a very long time. I am sorry to say that I have been so angry at times that I have made a total ass of myself in front of others. I can't do anything about my behavior in the past but I can try to control myself and learn not to overreact when I become upset.

I was probably a horrible mother when the kids were young. I would lose control and harangue them when they incurred my wrath. I had to work very hard to learn to control my temper and not become a total bitch. I practiced tough love with the boys and demanded they obey me. I whipped them and grounded them and watched them like a hawk. I tried to make sure I knew where the boys were at all times. It didn't endear me to the children but I did love them. I told them I loved them often. Don't think I was a heartless mother. I just wanted to keep them safe and thought it was my responsibility to keep them out of trouble. They still did things that drove me nuts. I couldn't watch them 24-7. You can't hold your child's hand forever. They're bound to make mistakes. That's how you learn. Right?

I used to tell Scout and Colt and their buddies that if anyone got hurt I wasn't going to take them to the hospital. I told them I would just throw them over the fence into the woods and let the coyotes deal with them. Scout's buddy Allan started calling it Edgewood Insurance. I recited the rules to them often, especially when they were doing something dangerous or stupid like boys are prone to do.

Scout said that Allan wanted to have a pine cone battle one day and Scout told him it would be okay as long as nobody got their eye knocked out. (Another one of my oft repeated chants to my sons.) He said Allan threw a pine cone and missed him but when Scout threw his pine cone he hit Allan in the eye. He thought "Oh oh, Pam's right."

Colt told me that he knocked his shoulder out of socket one time when he was skateboarding. He was so afraid to tell me that he fell back hard on the ground to knock his arm back in place. He said it hurt like the devil but he didn't want to come home and face me with his injury. I would tell them they better not get hurt or sick because we couldn't afford to go to the doctor.  I had no clue they were that afraid of me.

Scout began to test me when he was a teenager. I was always ordering him to do this or that or the other thing. One day Donny said something about Scout growing up and his comment caused me to have an epiphany about my son. My eyes were opened and I realized that if I didn't do something to change my relationship with my sons they might not love me when they were grown. I realized I didn't want that.

I still bitched and moaned but I learned to take it down a notch. I finally found Flylady's website and started hearing her soothing voice in my head. I gradually began to change my thinking. I tried to look on the bright side instead of focusing on the negative. I started feeling happier. Getting older and learning that life isn't fair and if everything is good you should thank your lucky stars and not let anger take over you, also helped.

One of the few times I got anything out of pitching a fit was when the electric company came down and pruned my Magnolia trees without my permission. The tree was not interfering with the wires. The tree cutters were quite nice to me until I started being nice, then oddly, that was the last I saw of them. We got some mulch out of them.

They prune the trees along the highway in stupid shapes. They call the cutting style the Shigo method but I called it the Shitgo method. The huge oak trees along the highway are shaped like goalposts or tuning forks with wires running through the cut out crown. Some trees are too close to the lines and would look better trimmed back to the trunk but I'm not an arborist so my opinion doesn't count.

My cousins teased me about being fat when I was young. I put up with the teasing from my cousins, Mike and Randy, because they were always teasing me about something. I was used to it even though I didn't like it.

Daddy and his brother, Bob, used to go camping together in the mountains when we were kids. Daddy and Bob loved trout fishing. It was very cold so there was always a campfire. Someone had been baking potatoes in the fire in tin foil. We were all playing and running around the fire.

Randy started calling me fatty and other names and Stevie started teasing me, too. I became furious. They were ganging up on me. I wanted to lash out at them but I didn't  know what to do. Eddie made the mistake of standing in my face and calling me fat. I thought Eddie was the sweet one! I grabbed one of the hot potatoes off of the picnic table and smashed it in his face. He screamed in pain. I was busted. Some of the grownups had seen what I had done. I was sorry that I had hurt Eddie. He was the baby boy. I really liked him. I don't know why I went ballistic on him, but I did. I just became angry, like the Hulk, only I saw red. I was ashamed to be that mad.

I hate being angry. Anger can cause you not to think clearly. Anger doesn't solve anything. Some people know how to deal with their anger and express their anger calmly and logically. I believe that anger begets anger. I wish I could shield myself against anger. It can't be good for you. It burns up too much psychic energy and can make people sick. Being angry depresses me.

AS ALWAYS

PIO

Granny Took Us For A Ride

I spent a lot of time with my father's sister's kids when I was little. My aunt would watch me for Moma and Daddy when they had to go someplace. It was natural for my cousin Randy to tag along with me and my Moma, too, sometimes. He loved to go with us when we went to visit my Gramma and Grampa Carter. He was a little charmer with those big brown eyes and his big white smile. They really got a kick out of him.

One time Randy was going to go stay with his Grandmother Shoates and, for some reason, I got to go along with him. Randy was two years younger than me. I can barely remember this so we must have been pretty little.

Grandmother Shoates was a weird old bird. She was tall and gangly and she was always puffing on a cigarette. My uncle, Jimmy, had been adopted when he was a baby so I always wondered how she felt about being a mother and grandmother. She didn't seem to be a particularly loving person. I never knew Jimmy's daddy because he passed away before I was born. Jimmy was always smiling and friendly and easy going. I figured it was a good thing he was adopted and didn't take after Gramma Shoates.

When Randy and I went to spend the day with Gramma Shoates we played around and didn't do anything particulary bad, or anything but she became annoyed with us. She said she couldn't take the noise or us any longer. She called a taxi and told us she was taking us home.

She put Randy and me in the taxi and rode over to Randy's house with us in tow. My aunt wasn't home and there wasn't anyone there to watch us but Gramma Shoates put us out of the cab anyway. She told us to sit on the steps until Vivian got home. Then she crawled back inside the taxi and rode away.

Randy's family lived in a threadmill house near the mill. There were dozens of other similar little houses in the neighborhood. Our uncle Bob lived up the street from them. We went to their house but nobody was home there, either. I think we played in somebody's coal pile for a while before we returned to Randy's house to wait for Vivian to come home. I don't know what happened when she came home and found Randy and me sitting on the steps but I imagine it caused quite a stir. Randy and I never did go to visit his grandmother together again. I imagine it was just as well.

If somebody did something like that today the law would get involved and the kids would probably be taken away from their families. I think someone should have dropped a net on Gramma Shoates. She was the one who was irresponsible. We were just kids. Crazy old woman!

That was my first and last ride in a taxi cab.

AS ALWAYS

PIO

Lake Winnie

Picture courtesy of Paul Drabek at Negative-G www.Negative-G.com

. . . or why mothers eat their young.

Like grains of sand in an hour glass, these are the days of our lives.

For joy, for joy! Long before Disney World, and even long before Six Flags Over Georgia, way back in the beginning of the TV era when I was young . . . long, long ago there was only one main attraction for all the amusement ride lovers in our area and that place still stands today. That place is Lake Winnepesaukah. The place has been here for eighty-five years and it is far better to spend the day there and ride all the rides you want to, than to drive all the way to Atlanta and stand in the lines for hours waiting to ride only a few rides. I hate waiting in lines.

Lake Winnie is the place that a lot of people got their first kiss as they rode the boat chute through the Tunnel of Love. It was reputed to have snakes sleeping in the rafters which sometimes fell into the boats of the helpless victims below. That story always had to be related aloud to some young person who was taking his first ride on the boat chute. The spooky tunnel is at the beginning of the ride.

We had some good times up there. I remember one time when we were young that my cousins Randy and Debbie and I rode to Chattanooga in our great uncle Cletus' white Cadillac. He drove below the speed limit because he believed the sign that said "Keep off the median" meant to drive below the speed limit. We all argued with him that it didn't mean to drive that slow but he wouldn't listen. Old people. Sheesh!

We had a family reunion up there that day. They rented a pavillion and the table was covered with food from one end to the other. Naturally the kids all took off to ride the rides after we ate. We lined up to ride a ride that goes across the lake. Two people to a gondola allowed you to ride high above the lake and you can look down on the people below you riding paddle boats and see all around the park. It was really high. And the water down below looked really dark and uninviting.

Debbie and I were in line behind her brothers, Steve and Eddie, but we could still talk to them. As we started across the water it became obvious that they were starting to panic. Steve was afraid of the height and Eddie was afraid of falling in the water. They kept talking about jumping off because the ride turns around at the other side and rides you back across the lake before letting you off the ride. The turn around is next to electrical wires and equipment working the ride. There are signs posted all over the place with "Warning", and "Danger".

Debbie and I tried to talk them out of jumping but they were determined not to ride back across the lake. We saw them jump. They cleared the wires and hit the ground running. We were stunned. What dummies.

By the time we got off the ride security, in the amusement park, was looking for the two boys who bailed out across the lake. Debbie and I denied knowing them. The rest of us wandered off and tried to distance ourselves from the search. We all eventually got together again and found out that Steve and Eddie had been dodging security and thought they had ditched them. Whew, that was some adventure. You wouldn't believe that years later Eddie joined the Navy and Steve joined the Air Force.

I also remember Debbie and Randy and I were playing when Moma told me it was time to leave. I wanted to stay a little longer and tried to get her to let me ride back home with somebody else. She said "No" but Debbie and Randy and I decided to run away and she started chasing me. We started running around the bumper car shed and would dart in the opposite direction when we saw her coming. This went on for a while and we were laughing and having a good time until Moma tricked me and jumped out and grabbed me when we ran the wrong way.

Moma was shaking with rage, mad enough to kill me. She had me by the hair and began shaking me by the hair of the head. I was tiptoeing and trying to get away. She was furious as she got close to me and said, "I ought to whip you right here and now but I won't, I won't . . ." and then she suddenly leaned toward me and bit me hard on the cheek. She drug me off and told me I better not talk back to her. How could I? She might bite me again. Sometimes it's best to leave well enough alone so I did. It was time to go home.

She was mad because people were watching me and my cousins running away from her and not minding her. She said one old man was watching us and laughing and that really made her mad. Oh well, I guess I learned a lesson there, about minding your mother, especially if she bites.

AS ALWAYS

PIO

That's Shocking!

Back when I was growing up we didn't have much to play with. I had the most toys since I was an only child but when me and my cousins all got together we didn't need any stinking toys. We knew how to have a good time and we didn't have to have any store bought toys to while away the time.

We could always walk up and down the creek looking for rocks or minnows or we could run through the plowed fields searching for arrowheads. We would troupe through the woods hunting snakes or blackberries. Sometimes we even snuck up to the top of the hill to sit and smoke rabbit tobacco where we could see all around and make quick our escape in case we were ever spotted. Fortunately we never were.

The most dangerous and the most fascinating game we ever devised was when someone told us about the electric fence and how you could touch it. At first we would take turns running up to the fence with one eye on the fence charger and the red light which showed when the power was on. We would try to touch it before the electric current came back on. After tiring of such game sport we decided there had to be more fun to it than that.

I have to explain that the group consisted of me and my couisins: Randy, Debbie, Stevie and Eddie. Stevie and Eddie were Debbie's little brothers. We usually picked on Stevie and Eddie because they were the youngest and the dumbest in the bunch so we devised a new strategy. We had been taught that the current could run through anything touching it and into the ground. That's why it was our job to go around making sure that there wasn't any grass or weeds touching the fence and grounding it. The electric fence ran around the pasture that was used to keep the cattle in and was only a couple of feet high.

I don't know who got the brilliant idea of making a human chain but I bet it was Randy because he was always coming up with some bright idea. We all stood in a line and joined hands and swore not to break the chain. After a few tries we decided it would be best to put Stevie and Eddie on each end of the line. The one on the end of the line would grab a 55 gallon metal drum used for burning  garbage. The first one on the line would grab the electric fence. The current would come on and pulsate through us all and then flash back off.

While our hands were joined it was hard to break the current so we immediately began fighting and squirming to let go when the power was off. We wanted to get loose before the second jolt of electricity struck us. If the chain was ever broken the last kid standing who was in the line got the full force of the electricity running through them directly into the ground. We never let go if we could help it. You should have felt our sweaty hands and smelled the fear. We were in heaven!

We didn't just play with the electric fence one time and forget it. Each and every time we all got together we made sure to show our courage and sense of adventure by testing our strength and daring with the electric fence. We were united in blood and bonded by our bravery. We were invincible! We were kids.

I still treasure my memories of those times we so foolhardily risked electrocution although I know that the current couldn't kill us now. At the time I thought we were risking our lives. I still wonder who the heck gave us the bright idea of shocking ourselves. It seems to me it was PawPaw or Daddy or my uncle, Bob. Maybe all three. I just don't remember. And I wonder what their bright idea really was. Was it designed to intentionally kill us? Now that I have kids of my own, I wonder. Humm . . .

Debbie reminded me that we also put Stevie and Eddie up to peeing on the electric fence. She said that was the best part. No wonder I though little boys looked like Vienne-Wienies. I guess anybody would if they were being electrocuted.                



PIO