Summer is here!

Summer arrived in my office this morning. Nice tan, tall long and lean wearing a crisp clean suit of white and blue. Adorned in a very pretty yellow tie and of course in a pair of Keens he immediately placed his feet on my desk and explained that it had been pretty busy trying to get Spring packed up and on the road north. The two of them share space for a while and no one is ever sure who is supposed to be doing what. He appears to have been taking pretty good care of himself. Tells me he has been bothered with a rash of bad thunderstorms and tornados in the mid-west left over by Spring, but once he gets settled in things should settle down to warm breezes and gentle rains. The only, “male’ of the season, I must admit I missed him big time this year so I was pleased to see him finally taking control. He presented me with my tentative schedule. With many days penciled in, some inked in as must do’s, and others circled and highlighted with stars. “You are going to be one busy guy,” he said as he presented me my own personal calendar. I wonder how I will ever get that all done; let me see, we have Wedding, a vacation to the Outer Banks, deep sea fishing, a series of miscellaneous golf trips including the usual round of Sunday morning tee-times and this year your going to have to paint the living room and the bedroom.” A ton of grass cutting, flower planting, garden tending and car washings seem to be spread throughout the list.. He actually promised to keep the rain to only Wednesdays and Monday mornings. I chuckled, “like you have that kind of power!

 

 

First Date

Sitting across the table from a one hundred thirty pound Grizzly Bear, is a great way to start you evening. Actually as far as first dates go, this would be a first. I have sat thru at least three inquisitions were I lied thru my teeth while keeping a straight face looking head on at the half knocked in the ass fathers who could have cared less what happened when I took out their daughters. And I have been through the nine circles of Hell, Dante wrote of, not to mention the interrogatories akin of the Spanish inquisition. Where you going? Be back by ten. What does you father do? Are you one of those hippies? You ever smoked dope? This time though, I half expected to see my date come from around the corner with the inscription, “Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch’intrate“, or “abandon all hope, ye who enter here” on her sweat shirt.” For sure I never expected to see a Grizzly Bear. Doberman yes, Bear, no. A pet they say? A family pet that is shall we say on a diet. For once it reaches a certain weight; it’s got to go. Got to go they say? Who is making that decision? I can hear them now, “Where is Timmy, Suzanne?” “In his room I guess.”  Only opening the door to find the bear licking his chops on what was a used to be growing ten year old. “Oops.” Do I really want to be dating a girl who finds bear hair on her dress and picks it off as if it means nothing? Mrs. Caputo asked what movie we were going to see, and all I could think of was; Gentle Ben! I had her back by the prescribed ten thirty. We never dated again.   

Hells Bells

My shovel hit the rusted placard lying a few inches below the ground hard.  I discovered it in the ashes of a burnt out building, behind what must have at one time been a very large house. The title in rusted steel said, “Hells Belles.” From what I could read it said the following. “Helen Belle Shipman had not intention of making her living lying on her back. Nor of ever thinking her place in history would be connected with the oldest profession. Some say, she still wanders the small bluff that collars the Ohio River north of Cincinnati in hopes of regaining her dignity. An unsatisfied ghost longing to make things right in a world she so abruptly left behind; that leaving taking place on the night of July 14^th, Eighteen Sixty Three.”  I went to the local library to find out more. No one is sure which side burned the house down that stormy July night, but it is rumored the Devil himself came to collect his due from a solider that had sold his soul to be with the woman he loved; one more time. Unfortunately she had taken up work in Belles house and upon his long walk home, he could not find her. When he did though, she was working at Belles. Be it grief or anger or war, he killed her right then and there. The folklore goes that when he did, the Devil appeared to collect, and thus the fire started. Either way, the fire consumed the house in minutes killing Helen, three girls and an assortment of Yankee and Southern soldiers. Built by her late husband Everett in Eighteen fifty one, Helen abruptly widowed by the war, found herself in ownership of her husbands business; not your typical bed and breakfast.  

Nicknames

I grew up in a town of nicknames. A stranger would have a hard time finding anyone around here. Hell, he might not even be able to find a street address if he did not what happened on that street. River Street is known by all the locals as Hooker Avenue; go figure?  Uncles, Aunts, friends and neighbors all had names other than that given to them at birth. Some pretty interesting while others less than flattering. “Fat Ass,” could only mean one person and strangely enough some forty years later when he walks into the store and buys a coke or picks up his dry cleaning, anyone that knows him will ask, “How is it going fat ass.” He of course will reply, just fine. Some names were actually prophetic, such as “Doc,” who did grow up to be a Doctor, and of course,“ Loose Lucy Lucy,”  lives on the outskirts of town with her second husband and one of four children to her first. “Turtle boy,” became a veterinarian. “Peaches,” sells fruit at her parents out door market every summer, and “Brains,” got a degree and is the school principal. Other nicknames of course were just mean and should have been shed the same time puberty kicked in. Such as, “Ol Cross Eyes,” who did eventually get them fixed, but is still known by that, and “Back Seat Betty,” the school librarian known to blush when one of us parents brings a youngster in to take out a book! The whole student population was known as, “Cake eaters,” and I have no idea how we got that one, but than again that is the beauty of a nickname. You do not know nor have any idea how you got it, or how to get rid of it.