“FOOD FOR THOUGHT”

Long ago and far away I made mention how sometimes I would misquote the bible. Rest assured when I was young and in my mom’s presence, suddenly I became tongue-tied if the bible was the topic of discussion. However, being raised in a blue collar home and later in life always working for the man there was one bible verse that stuck with me as strong as John 3: 16.

Mathew 16:26 ” What will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul”.

God bless the brave men and women that fought for our freedom. Happy 4th.

Be safe.

“HOT AS HELL”

Before you throw me under the bus for using a profane word, hear me out. This term dates back decades primarily used by preachers to instill the fear of ( The Lake of Fire) torment to its congregation. Rest assured this has no reference to the theology of any church. As a great storyteller Paul Harvey used to say,” Now for the rest of the story”.

The sun was just breaking the morning sky as the four of us climbed into the bed of the Ford pickup. Even at this early hour the humidity felt as though you were sitting in a sauna. At the ripe old age of eleven, I knew it would be a long hot day in the tobacco fields of Eastern North Carolina.

Allow me to explain how all of this transpired. Tobacco was the main revenue source for the farmers, however being a small town the labor force to harvest this crop could get very competitive. The farmers sales pitch went something like this,” I will pay five dollars a day to get my four acres in hopefully by lunch and if it takes longer, I will throw in lunch”. In most instances the food bonus sealed the deal. Out of curosity I researched the purchasing power of $5.00 in the 1950’s to the purchasing power in 2026′, $69.09. What a difference seventy six years makes.

If you ever visited and/or lived in Eastern N.C. in July and August, it could be a tinder box. Temperatures in the mid- nineties with the humidity so thick you could cut it with a knife. However, as an eleven year old the elements were of no concern. What is the old saying,” Youth is wasted on the young”. At that time I never had second thoughts what happens to a person’s skin being in the sun until years later. In the fifities it was just another day in paradise. Hahaha.

One sweltering ninety-five degree day in the middle of a tobacco patch where you could see the heat vapors rising from the crops I made a deal with the man upstairs.” Lord, if you will get me out of this field today I will never use a tobacco product.” Being in my mid eighties I have stuck to that promise.

In retrospect, I should have taken heed when the old farmer was unloading the field hands from the pickup. “Boy’s, I hope you had a good breakfast cause today it’s going to be “hot as Hell”.

Be safe.

My first dog “Brownie” today would be considered a rescue dog, and I do mean rescue. When I found him he had been scalded from the steam from a train engine, undernourished, afraid of his own shadow, and saught refuge under a bridge. After coaxing him home, at my mom’s dismay we were not sure if he would live or die. Following a meal of pork chop bones, peas and beans, cornbread, fresh water and a warm blanket I had a dog.

As he slowly began to get used to his new surroundings, his training consisted of me sitting on the back porch steps calling, ” here Brownie-here boy”. When he approached me with apprehension, he was rewarded with a back rub and a “good boy, good dog” comment. Brownie’s only expenses was a new collar, and a rabies shot. I am sure Purina Dog Chow was available, but he ate what we ate, people food. Today that is a no-no to feed your pet table food. A few days ago out of curosity I Googled ” how much money was spent on dog training in 2025″? Globally, we spent three.four billion dollars ( that is a B) on our four legged friends and/or four legged children.

If you are still with me, there is some logic to my madness with this blog. We were wonderfully gifted at Christmas with the most loveable, energetic, mischievous eight month old ball of fur Pomeranian puppy you can imagine. Unlike Brownie, Sir Baxter Waldo does not know that I live under the same roof with him, especially if my wife is within one mile of our residence. Soooo, having said all that, I am wondering what part of 3.4 billion dollars it will cost me for the simple words and responce, ” Here Bax, here boy, good dog.”

Be safe

Somehow I feel most of the talk around the Monday morning watercooler had to do with the Masters Golf Tournament. Even if golf does not appeal to everyone the majestic Augusta National Golf Course is worth the watch. Which brings me back in time to my home town of six hundred people.

Somewhere between high school and college I managed to purchase a used starter set of Krydon golf clubs, no longer manufactured. The set consisted of seven clubs, a putter, a raggedy golf bag, and six used golf balls. Until then my only association with golf was my superlative picture in my high school annual holding a golf club for “Most Athletic”.

I think my interest in golf piqued when the owners of the cotton mills (all avid golfers) brought in L.B. Floyd the owner of Cypress Lakes Golf Club in Fayetteville NC to offer the mill employees and children a beginners golf lesson. Mr. Floyd is the father of Raymond Floyd, PGA Golf Hall of Famer. The only other professional golf tip I received was from my granddaughter Lauren who captained the App. State golf team. We were playing a round of golf and after a few holes I asked her for some golf tips. She replied,” Have you considered another hobby”?

Back in the day in my hometown the game of golf was a hobby for the upper class. And even then you had to drive fifteen miles to Lumberton Golf Club to play. Then one day the news spread that the Davis Family was going to build a nine hole golf course on the family farm just outside of town. Davis Construction was well known for land preparation at several golf course’s in Eastern N.C.

After much anticipation, the course finally opened. The club house consisted of a twelve by fourteen foot storage shed. At check in there were a few rules not listed in the USGA Rules of Golf you needed to be aware of. One, since this is a family farm be on the lookout for children running across the fairways at times followed by dogs. Rule two, this also applies for cows and hogs, Three, you cannot play without wearing a shirt. Look out world, you have a bunch of good old boys and girls swinging iron sticks at little white golf balls trying to hit it in a little round hole.

If America’s Funniest Videos had existed at the time, this would have been a treasure trove of excerpts for that program. Yes, it was a blue collar golf course for folks that did not require all the amenties that most courses offered. More than likely half of the golf beginners had never heard of The Masters, but in our minds our little nine hole course was the Augusta National.

Be safe.

Raised in a small Southern town, you did not have the bells and whistles larger towns or cities such as Wilmington had to offer. However, with a smacking population of six hundred people we were blessed with two town doctors.

There was Dr. H. and Dr. B. Dr. H was the younger of the two by a few years and practiced a more modernistic approach to medicine. Dr. B. was was your typical no nonsense country doctor. The one advantage Dr. B had over Dr. H, his brother Joe owned the cotton mills.

It was never contested, but the rumor was Dr. B received three dollars per week from each of the hourly employees in the mills. Approximately three hundred employees X three dollars per, you do the math. The upside of this arrangement, you never got a doctor bill.

Dr. B’s bedside manner was reserved for the elderly which he had attended to for years. He knew the parents and children of every mill hand in town, because in most instances he had delivered us in our homes. I can attest to his bedside manner in my youth. On four different occasions I required stiches resulting from numerous double dares from my older sisters. For the record, you cannot do a back flip on a bed with a metal head’board. If Dr. B had a numbing antiseptic it was never used on me. A cotton swab dipped in alcohol and the procedure began.

The doctors office was located in the back of his drug store in a similar fashion as your CVS and Walgreens of today. On one of my four visits my mom happened to be purchasing some items in the drug store. Of course, you could hear me screaming at the top of my lungs.

My mom asked the manager, ” Whose child is that yelling back there”?

His reply, ” I think it is your son”.

To this day as a reminder of yester year, all I need to do is rub the back of my head and feel the scar tissue. There is one last thought for those visits, when Dr. B was stiching me up he would say,” Does that hurt”?

“Yes”

“Then don’t do it”.

Be safe

For the record, I have contacted John Grisham, James Patterson, Colleen Hoover and David Baldacci inquiring, ” How do you folks handle writers block”? They must be head over heels with their next best sellers because none have yet to get in touch with me. ( levity people levity).

To be honest I am not sure if it is writers block or the current status of the world we live in today. Most of my life has always been a person who see’s ” the glass half full rather than half empty”. And it would be really easy to jump on the bully pulpit and express my feelings about Russia, Ukraine, China, Iran, and America. However, like the 340,000,000 people in the U.S. everyone has their own opinion wheather right, wrong, or indifferent.

The following is ” based on true events”.

I am reminded of my youth when we played cow pasture baseball. Only one kid had an official baseball and if he could not pitch he would take his baseball and go home. Problem was he was a lousy pitcher, but his baseball, his rules. To me that is what the world is like today. After a few days of polling our pennies and dimes, the knot hole gang bought our own official baseball. That small purchase spoke volumes because it was for the good of many and not for just one whose ego was more important to him than kindness. Just saying. I am going to stop now because there is a case of writers block taking over.

Be safe

Many years ago my young grandchildren would ask? “What do you want for Christmas?” My reply,”Peace of mind”. In their innocense they would ask,”Where do you get that”?

This Christmas our “peace of mine” was delivered in the form of a five pound beautiful eight month old Pomeranian puppy, a gift from our children. For my teary eyed wife, it was love at first sight. I admit, me to.

A few years ago we lost our Maltese after nineteen years. We grieved for a period of time and on occasion talked of getting another dog when the time was right. Truth be known, I felt for three years since Kemper Dog’s passing both of us had a silent void in our hearts for another pet. For me I wrestled with the thoughts of “Can I handle the attachment of another dog like those I had for Kemper.”?

As soon as I saw the hypnotic eyes and small button nose camouflaged by pounds of hair my fears of attachment were immediately erased. As the line from Tom Cruise’s movie ” Show Me The Money”, Sir Baxter (Bax) Waldo Edwards had me with “hello”.

In less than a month, Bax is loveable, fun to watch, and yes, very mischievous. He has taken over our ( his ) home and prances around with a small dog attitude. Of course, we have already spoiled him to the bone. The one characteristic I am aware of is the therapeutic joy this five pound fur ball has brought to our lives. And then again, maybe he does.

Best of 2026′ Be Safe.

On or about this time every year I share my approach for ” The Reason For The Season”. At eighty plus years of age decorations and Christmas lights on a tree are like a time traverler being hurled through space. Some of our decorations go back decades while some are as recent as last year. Like life these decorations and lights speak of love, heart break, tears and laughter.

My stress recommendation for the hustle and bustle of Chrisetmas is simple and inexpensive. There are four basic steps to my method. Like most, you have your favorite escape spot, go there. Next, you have a favorite beverage, in moderation of course. Step three, put the ear pods in and find your favorite Christmas music. Last step, begin to ” count your lights”.

Between the lights and decorations you will find some burn brighter than others or have greater meaning than others. The gamut can range from the hills and valleys this past year, or angel wings that speak softly to you. At times I find myself laughing out loud and other times realize my eyes have teared up. May I suggest you bring a few Kleenex, just in case.

When I seem to disappear in the evening my better half will comment, ” Are you counting lights”?

Peace on earth—Be safe.

Being raised in a small town with a population of six hundred people you were never inudated with political rhetoric from either party. One major reason, very few people had access to any form of communication other than radio, a few posters, and word of mouth.

My parents were Democrats and other than it was the party of their parents, and their grandparents, and so on and so forth generations past, that was the connection. Maybe the Republican elephant did not catch their fancy as much as the Democrats donkey logo. If my memory serves me correctly ( your snickering is very apparent) it was the presidential election of 1984 between Ronald Reagan and Jesse Jackson ( so I Googled it, sue me). Reagan won in a landslide.

At some point in time before the election, I was talking with my mom about the upcomg election.

” How do you feel about the electon”?

” We will vote Democratic”.

” And dad”?

” Ever how I tell him”.

” Are you familiar with Jackson’s platform”?

” No, I just know which ever party has the most moonshine and dollar bills will win the election. The Democrats have the moonshine covered, but not the dollar bills”.

“You can fool all the people some of the time and some of the people all the time, but you cannot fool all the people all the time.” Abraham Lincoln. Happy Thanksgiving.

Be safe.

October being the month of ghost and goblins, I am reminded of the events and stories that would bring chill bumps to my sisters and me. My blog from 10-31-2019 “Small Town Folklore” details a few of those stories.

After we moved from the cotton mill village closer to town there was one landmark that carried with it as much mystery as The Beast of Bladenboro or Joe Baldwin searching for his head at the Maco Light railroad, it was—- “The Bridge”.

There was a swamp with a stream between our home and down town that required the N.C. Department of Transportation in the 1920’s to build a permanent structure over it, the bridge. Many an hour was spent playing in the swamp and under the bridge. Of course when play time went from day to dusk you left the swamp and bridge to the mysteries that dwelled there. According to the old-timers at Azzie’s Barber Shop The Beast of Bladenboro still lurks in the swamp on odd days of the month and the unexplained cries that come from the swamp when there is a full moon have never been resolved.

My sisters and I were very exicited about going to the Wonet Theatre during the week to watch a horror movie titled. “The Thing”. The movie was based on a space ship that crashed in the Antarctic with an alien on board that was frozen for decades. After cutting the alien out of the ice they brought it inside. As the ice began to melt around the alien, scientist began to disappear. The movie was in black and white making the dynamics even more scary.

During the week the theatre had only one showing at eight o’clock, meaning the movie let out at ten o’clock. When the three of us exited the movie our town had become a ghost town. There was no traffic, no store lights, and a few street lights here and there. Still polarized from the movie when we reached the edge of town we all stopped in unison. Before us stood the bridge in total darkness with an errie glow from a distant street light.

You could have cut the air with a knife. The only sounds were coming from the swamp and our heavy breathing. My oldest sister broke the silence with four words,” What is today’s date”?

Remembering the old-timers comments about odd days of the month I mumbled “October 29th., one day before Halloween”. My middle sister in typical fashion said, ” On the count of three we start running and if you fall down you are on you”.

I can still recall our screams as we sprinted across the bridge. Have you ever been so scared that when you came to your senses you cried and laughed at the same time? We did. Happy Halloween.

Be safe.