Gambling With Computers, a Religious Thing

Are you a person who likes to take a chance now and then? Or maybe you are one who likes to take a chance more often, maybe you are a high roller, maybe you live your life in the fast lane, so to speak.

Not me! I remember playing marbles “for keeps” one time in grammar school and losing the prettiest marble I ever owned. It taught me a value lesson about gambling: Cheat.

Seriously, it taught me taught me not to gamble unless I was ready to accept losing. I didn’t gamble again until I was in high school and our lunch every day was 25¢. Sometimes we would match our quarters… sometimes I would lose and sometimes I would win… either way, it didn’t matter, I skipped lunches most days anyway – it was mostly a social thing.

Several years ago Anna and I went to Cherokee, North Carolina, to see the “Unto These Hills” play about the plight of the Native American Indians. While in town we went into the reservation’s casino. We decided we would gamble on blackjack. We decided $10 would be our limit.

I doubt if I fitted the James Bond image in Casino Royale. With my frantic look I probably more like a desperado. I think I bought chips – I don’t think I used real money – there is probably something of a trick to your mind – it you are not playing with real money, and playing with colored chips – well, it is something like playing with Playdoh Money – it is not as hard mentally to lose. I played blackjack with a computer. I think it was 50¢ a game – or a 50¢ token. I think I played good. It took that machine two whole hours to take my ten dollars.

To give you an idea of my desperately holding onto the $10 worth of chips think of a wet rat holding for his life onto a piece of wood in a flood.

To make it complete, all was needed was a female dancehall robot laugh in my face and walk off to find another sucker and two bigger robot thugs grab me by both arms and throw me out with the music of a player piano playing in the background…. But I was hurt enough - $10 is $10 (which reminds me of a joke I will not tell now).

And I haven’t gambled since.

But I do play the Georgia Lottery.

I play the Mega Millions and the Fantasy Five weekly.

Wait! Let me explain.

I forgot which James Michener book I read this in but it was one of his massive infinite-detailed books a farmer threw a certain amount of what he harvested back to the soil.

And I read a similar thing in another Michener book that an Indian did the same with game he had killed.

It was a religious thing – to pay back a portion of what was given you.

The Georgia Lottery funds the Hope Scholarship in Georgia. The Hope Scholarship is for students that keep a certain high academic average. Thousands of Georgia resident students with good grades earned their education with the Hope Scholarship, my two sons included.

So, each week I play the Georgia Lottery with the help of a software program try to pick the winners – I try to win, just in case I overpaid and the system and it wants to give a certain portion back.

Gertrude Jones (1898-1986)

This is Anna’s great aunt Gertrude Jones Wood (1898-1986). I used to see her at family functions and she seemed like she was a witty person who rather keep her thoughts to herself - she had a twinkle in her eyes.

She married late, 1946, to Twigg Wood (1895-1966). As I was typing his name just now for the first time I noticed that the sound of his first name complements his surname. He probably had parents with a good sense of humor.

They are both buried in Midway Methodist Church cemetery, between Alpharetta and Cumming, Georgia.

Art For the People!

There are many forms of art. Some are appreciated more than others. Probably illustration art is more widely seen – such as ads in magazines and illustrations of stories – to me, Norman Rockwell is probably on most people’s list as a superb artist. A few years ago the High Museum in Atlanta had for a limited time a collection of Norman Rockwell’s. We spent hours there one day.

Art is art in the eyes of the beholder. Some of us appreciate comic book art and can look at a glance at a comic book drawing and tell you who drew it. I have certain artists I watch for and let the others slide on by… well, you can easily tell my taste in comic book art if you just surf in the archives of my blog.

There are many forms of art on the canvas. I have always liked Salvador Dali and some of Picasso…… some I don’t like… when both eyes are on the same side of the face… ugghh! But, I do like his Blue Period and others.

Folk Art is nice. Howard Finster comes to mind when I think of folk art. I think of folk art as someone who has not been formally trained as an artist enough to be aware or unaware of dos and don’ts of art. I think, in the case of folk art, the breaking of guide lines and rules is what makes their art stand out… but I think it should still represent something… symbolism or a mood or a blip moment in a story that leaves it to you to fill in the details or something.

A good example of primitive folk art is below. For instance, there is no doubt that the figure is a cow – right? And the belly button in a “in-ny” What do you think the “inny” belly button represents? And I must admit, at first look of the picture I thought the little things in mid-air were fumes to represent the stench that comes with “breaking wind”. But, on a closer look I see they represent flies. Of course, that is probably a likely place for flies to hang around. And notice the smirk on the cow’s face… just like she just shot you with a good methane gas blast. Also notice the sedate color. Most of all, notice the canvas the art is on. They say the human body is a work of art… such as a perfect physique as this – well, it is beyond words. It is like praising the frame holding the picture as much as praising the picture itself.

See how much one can look for details and appreciate good art?

Marietta Pilgrimage - aka Tour of Homes

Saturday we went on the home tour of Marietta. Each year five or six homes put their homes up for inspection by the public in general – whoever willing to pay their money to go through these houses. The houses generally belong to people who spared no expense in remodeling or renovating.

The above stone wall and gate was not on the tour. We just walked by it and I took a picture of it. Until recently the wall leaned forward towards the sidewalk, but somehow they corrected that. In my teenage years my friend Gene had an aunt that lived behind the wall. Sometimes when I was with him he would park his car alongside the sidewalk and walk through the gate and stay 15 to 30 minutes and return. Then I never thought to look behind the house to see what kind of house his aunt lived in, but recently I did. There is a huge barn or garage there. It is in the back yard of a big white house on another street (Kennesaw Avenue). I told in an earlier blog that Gene died in an auto wreck which he was drag racing. I wonder why he always went in his aunt’s house the back way? Here is the house his aunt probably lived in.



The first house we went to was the Alamo house. It has several unique rooms and unique designs and unique conversation pieces inside the house. As a matter of fact, that is what all these houses consisted of: conversation pieces.



Each house had a person on the outside of the house to make a checkmark on your book in the appropriate box to show you have been there and to allow so many in the first room at a time, where a docent would be waiting with his or her notes.

Outside the second house we visited the person on the outside to let so many go in at a time was Rachel. I met Rachel a previous year on the tour. That year we were touring the Leander Newton Trammell house and I started taking pictures. A lady came up to me that also was taking pictures – except her camera was expensive, she said, “I don’t think you are allowed to take pictures in the houses.”

I said, “You are.” and made a nudge in the direction of her camera.

She drew back and said something to the effect, “I own this house”.

I said, “I am related to Leander Newton Trammell…. “

She said, “Ok!” We got into a long conversation and she showed me other things of the Trammell family not on the tour.

We emailed each other for several weeks. We got a hold of a great grandson, and we were to get together with him… then suddenly he stopped emailing – which caused me to stop writing…and I guess that stopped Rachel too.

She was telling me that she is still giving tours…. Anybody walking down the street looking at the house in an interesting way she invites them in and gives them a tour.

One house that was on the tour was what is called the Green House. That was because it was owned by the Green family for 59 years. Anna worked with the lady who lived in the house for 59 years partly as a child and finally owner.

Another house was once owned by a family whose son was Anna’s uncle, by marriage.

Outside one house was a man sitting playing a docimer (?). We thought he was part of the entertainment but he said no, he was just waiting outside while his wife was inside touring. He gave us a quick lesson on how to plunk out a tune of the beautiful wood-string instrument.



In one of the houses a blond lady, also touring said, “Anna?” And Anna said her name with a question mark. When you get our age, people you haven’t for a long time, you often say their name with a question mark. When Anna said her old friend’s name I immediately knew her last name.

Anna said, “Eddie was in school with your sister.” Actually, Anna got that part confused. I was in school with the lady’s older sister’s first husband.

As a matter of fact, I ran around with her brother-in-law Larry. One time Larry retained his cousin Jesse and me to spy on his sister-in-law because he suspected she was having an affair.

I asked her how was her sister (by name). She was speechless for a moment and said she is suffering from dementia. Where is she? Anna asked. In Columbia, SC, the lady said.

I saw no reason to keep the conversation going by saying one time I was hired to spy on her sister. Some things are best forgotten, which her sister must be doing a good job at.

Our last house we visited Rachel’s husband had the same job Rachel had – letting so many people into the house at a time. We talked Trammell stuff to him too. He asked me my name and I said, “Eddie Hunter”

He said, “Are you the one that writes a blog?”

Yep!

Then we talked about my blog. He is a very congenial person. Very nice.

That is about eight to ten people in this area that I know read my blog. Some night, after dark I expect them to approach our house with torches, tar, and feathers.

That house was once owned by the assistant principal when I was in high school. The assistant principal and his sister owned the house. Then his sister died, and he married a woman with the same name as his sister and they did a lot of innovations. I think there is a story here.

The latest owners built a big media room that the screen on the wall was almost as big as a drive-in theater. He also had a very nice plush office with a big album of old family relatives.

This is the Howell House. It was not on the tour, but we walked by it. As a teenager I hung out many hours at this house. I was friends with one of the four teenagers that lived there. I mentioned in a previous blog about the family owning a garment factory and now the production operation has moved to Blairsville. I hope this house is on the tour one year.






Also, I am proud to say my first cousin’s daughter was the co-chairman of the event this year, as she was the last year. Both years were well organized.

You are not suppose to take pictures inside the houses, as Rachel let me know, but sometimes I would snitch one. Here are some various pictures I took on the tour.

Lack of Communications

I think I told you in an earlier blog that our stove top broke and we went to Sears and bought another one. The salesman told us the installer would call us to set up a time.

He did. He called us the following Monday morning and said he would come that day. I told him we didn't have it, part of the deal was that he was to bring it. He said OK he would check with the warehouse and call me back.

He didn't call me back.

Thursday evening I decided to call Sears to find out just how everything was going with our order, and to make a long story short - leaving out the endless press selections on the phone - I finally got to talk to a human. She told me the installer was going to bring it the following morning (Friday) and install it.

"We won't be home." I said. Anna was off, and we have plans all day.

We politely went a few rounds - now the installation is due next week.

Watch something else go wrong.

Separate But Equal Ads

While doing some mini-research with google, trying to come up with a visual on Hambones I came across the above ads. You know to click to enlarge.

Hambone Hambone – Where You Been?

“Been around the world and goin’ again!” slap slap slap! (that is me slapping my stomach and legs to give a beat to the song).

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
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The Juba dance or hambone, originally known as Pattin' Juba (Giouba, Haiti: Djouba), is a style of dance that involves stomping as well as slapping and patting the arms, legs, chest, and cheeks. It is similar to clogging and the jig, and "pattin' Juba" would be used to keep time for other dances during a walkaround. A Juba Dance performance could include:

* counter-clockwise turning, often with one leg raised,
* stomping and slapping (v.s.),
* various steps such as "the Jubal Jew", "Yaller Cat", "Pigeon Wing" and "Blow That Candle Out".

I tivoed Bamboozled yesterday and am watching it in bits and pieces. It is unbelievable. But, I’ll save that for another blog.

The movie reminded me of a guy that we named Hambone because he did the hambone body slapping to rhythm so good. Hambone was a white guy, about our age, but more or less a drifter. He somehow materialized among us Marietta boys in the summer of 1960 in Daytona Beach. We got a kick out of him because he was such a party animal.

After all, we were at Daytona Beach to party - not sit around and discuss physics of the stars and solar systems above us or oceanology or anything like that.

Weeks later on his way back to his home in Chattanooga he stopped by Marietta and looked up some of the friends he made on the beach and if I remember right, lived among us for a week or so. Then he went on his way.

It seems he made a second appearance in Marietta a year or two later on his way to someplace else.

Now Hambone is about 66 or 67 years old. I wonder if he ever settled down. I wonder where he has been? Did he go around the world and go again?

The Invisible Man Meets The Invisible Woman

I have mentioned many times on my invisibility. People look right through me. It is not like they are ignoring me – they just don’t sense my presence. It is probably because I am a quiet and mild nature… Who would notice a bump on a log?

never-the-less, I get heated up deep down in the pits of my soul when I feel I am being overlooked.

The latest case of me being ignore (that I know of) last week I was taking something back at Wal-Mart. When I entered the Customer Service area there were three people in front of me. I politely waited my turn. A man came up behind me and was yaking on his cell-phone and must not have noticed me.

Then, a lady came up in a store-electric wheelchair – or whatever they are called – “turn-abouts”? and got behind the man on the cell phone. When he said his goodbye’s he looked and saw her in line (at least she was sitting). One of the Customer Service ladies said, “Next!” He turned around to the lady in the machine with wheels and told her to go on, no sense for her to have to wait. And she pressed forward and went on. Then, another lady said “Next” and he went – and there I stood standing, still at the head of the line.

Then the third lady said “Next” and I was teed off. As I walked up to the counter I motioned with my hands and said “Those two broke in front of me!” The clerk politely changed the subject.

Today I took Willow to the dog park off Steinhaur Road. A lady came up to me and Willow and bent over and petted Willow and said, “Hi Willow!” After talking to her a few minutes I realized we have talked before at the dog park. But, I don’t remember her at all. Usually, since I feel I am on the outside looking in I remember people and details about them. Not this time.

An invisible person of the opposite sex?

Old Marietta Map - Those Were The Days

A couple weeks ago I put up a map similar to the one above and yanked it off within an hour or two. Someone emailed me and pointed out in the bottom right corner of the map was a notice of $10.000 award for turning anyone in for copying or reproducing that map.

But as I said, it was similar to this one, with only a few differences… the main difference I saw was there isn’t an award offer on this one.

This is a map of Marietta years ago. It is after 1965 because the I-75 is part of the map. But, not too much after it because also is Popular, Hansel, and Orange Streets are shown and the Marietta Parkway, aka Marietta Loop is not shown.

As mentioned in a previous blog the First Methodist Church of Marietta’s parking lot swallowed up Hansel Street. The Marietta Parkway swallowed up Popular and Orange Streets.

On the corner of Popular and Whitlock Avenue was a Texaco Station that I didn’t realize it was a landmark fixed in my mind until it was gone. On down the hill on Popular Street was Owenby Manufacturing that I think made mostly under garments such as tee-shirts, underwear shorts, and maybe socks.

I ran around with one of the sons of the owner of Owenby Mfg. Co. The other son was a little snobbish – but now, isn’t. I see him from time to time. They moved Owenby Mfg. Co., to Blairsville and the son I was friends with is the plant manager. The used to be snobbish brother runs the administration part in Marietta. I know he must be worth millions, but I have seen him break speed limits with his shopping cart to quickly get to the flashing light when a Blue-Light Special was announced over the intercom at K-Mart.

Orange Street, the best I remember, had a chicken processing factory, a stable (yep, a stable for horses), and a radiator shop.

Orange Street kind of ran parallel with the railroad tracks going through downtown Marietta..

On the other side of the railroad tracks on Whitlock Avenue was a building that housed Kelly Sporting Goods and Ken Stanton’s music. That was where we bought our 45 rpm records. Now, it is a Gone With the Wind Museum.

Across the street was Dupres which was a general store. They sold everything from groceries, feed, seed, appliances, and you name it. When we remodeled our kitchen in the 80s we bought our stove-top there. Now, no stores of that are downtown anymore. The store is still Dupres owned by the Dupres, but now it is Dupres Antiques Store.

In the 60s when passenger trains came through Marietta often it was not unusual for motorists going west on Whitlock Avenue have to wait in from of a dining car while people got onto the train.

Once my friend Larry was next blocked by the RR cross bar and in front of him was the dining car and people dining. It was Friday evening and he and his sister were taking a bunch to the Marietta High stadium for a football game. To Larry’s sister and her friend, who both were riding in the front seat, the diners looked like snobbish Yankees. They decided to give them a taste of the redneck south.

They put their butts up to the front window and down went their pants. Then, reached over and pressed the thing to make the horn blow. They mooned the diners.
Larry fussed at them the whole time.

Those were the days.

Emma Viola Hunter

This is my first cousin, once removed, Emma Viola Hunter Abercrombie (1891- ?). She was born in Cherokee County, Georgia, and died in Birmingham, Alabama. She married Andrew Joseph Abercrombie, who worked in a steel company. They are both buried at Carmel Baptist Church, Woodstock, Cherokee County, Georgia.

Change of the Holiday Moods

Yesterday was just about the last day of the Thanksgiving state-of-mind… by now, most of the turkey casseroles have been eaten and all the fall-look decorations have been replaced by Christmas decorations. The turkeys have been replaced by snowmen.

The Saturday after Thanksgiving Thursday has for the past several years what I call Thanksgiving 2 Day. Anna’s niece and her husband, a preacher, have a little group over of her side of the family. Until this year we have been going to their home in nearby Acworth. This year, he has a new church and they moved to Lawrenceville, which is about 50 miles away.

We drove through the town of Lawrenceville slowly because we were looking for certain landmarks we had on our directions where to turn that the niece had supplied to us – for instance we were to turn right the first street past the post office.

As we were driving slowly through Lawrenceville looking around for landmarks I saw the courthouse. I wished I could have stopped and taken a picture of the big magnificent structure. It reminded me of the courthouse Cobb County used to have before it was replaced by a block – but most of all, because it is where Larry Flint was shot by an assassin wannabe years ago…. But the mood of the traffic was “keep it moving”.

I should mention that the niece’s directions was perfect. They were not from Mapquest or any other routing organization. She would give landmarks, along with miles in tenths. We only got lost only once and it wasn’t her mistake but ours.

The niece is a very efficient exact person. She is very proper and very neat. I don’t think she has an ounce of fat on her. She always wears a lengthy dress (nothing near the knees) and during these Thanksgivings-2 get-togethers she wears a perfect apron with ruffles with no cooking stains. If it was me wearing that apron and cooking a glistering stain would be from my lower lip, dripping off my chin and down the apron.

In her invitation she said this year instead of having a turkey again, so soon after a turkey, she was having soups and cornbread. And she assigned different things for each guest to bring. Anna was assigned brownies.

Excellent idea!

While we were on a long stretch of road outside of Lawrenceville I kept thinking the niece remind me of somebody…. Who?

Anna wondered if the niece would have something, I forgot what and I replied just as I thought who she reminded me of: “I’m sure the Stedford Wife will – all details will be taken care of.”

The meal was great. She had a beef vegetable soup and a vegetable soup which was mostly broccoli and was nice and spicy. There were two types of cornbread, regular Southern cornbread, and Mexican cornbread laced with peppers. I chose the Mexican cornbread.

While we were eating the niece spoke directly to me, tell me that she had a cut of coffee brewing. She remembered I thrive on caffeine.

Later, she brought me a cup of coffee, black as I prefer it, of course – the Stepford Wife had that on her memory disk.

Her husband, the preacher, has a very down-to-earth informal way about him. He is very likable and is crazy about his two grandchildren that he doesn’t get to see often enough since they moved to Lawrenceville.

Afterwards, we had to go to Sears and buy a new glass stovetop. We cracked our present one on Thanksgiving day by either working it too hard or before hand stacking pottery-type dishes on it.

Sears lured us there with a sale. They had what we thought was exactly what we needed, just like what we thought we had now. While there with the hook in our jaws and salesman reeling us in he said there is a ½ inch difference in the one on sale and what we had already… in other words, the stovetop would fall through the hole that the present one fitted in…. HOWEVER! His computer did show one with the exact dimensions that we need for a about a couple of hundred bucks more – then, add installation fee and so on.

Yesterday we finished up with our Christmas decorations. And to top things off Willow ate a few candy-canes off the tree and one miniature reef.

Thanksgiving-fall- festive has passed and Christmas time is here.

Doonesbury – 2 Versions

Above is the first three panels of Doonesbury in today’s Atlanta Journal and Constitution paper. (Click on picture to enlarge!)

Below is the whole thing printed in today’s local paper. Noticed the first two panels was eliminated, which puts a different slant or meaning on the cartoon.

Eagle Eye Anna called my attention to this.

Drought Report in Georgia

One thing about it. The Drought does not see class, gender, money, or color. The Drought effects everybody in this area. Everybody is asked to sacrifice.

For instance, in a previous blog, I told of getting a form letter from the water department saying we were consuming about 15,000 gallons more than my neighbors were averaging.

I found that strange, because for months we have not watered our grass or washed our car, and there are only two of us that live here, compared to our neighbors who wash their cars, water their lawns, and most have more than two people dwelling in their house.

I checked the water meter and it was covered with months and months of spider webs and caked with dust and dirt. I called the water department and said I believed that their private contractor who is supposed to have read the meters have been estimating.

They sent a man out and looked at my meter and assured me that they have been checking it but told me not to worry about it. Then my water bill fell from $35 a month to $15 a month. Yep, they were estimating the numbers, without even coming near.

Now, I heard on the news that a house on Thunderbird Drive in Marietta, it was leaked (get it?) to the news that the house was using enough water for 60 houses (on the average).

Thunderbird Drive is in one of the most expensive areas of Cobb County. A view from a news helicopter of the house showed a very big house with fountains and I thought I saw a manmade waterfall.

They interviewed the Chairman of the Commission board and he said the man who owned the house said he didn’t realize there was a water shortage and he will try to cut down.

I think what he probably said was that he didn’t think water restrictions applied to the wealthy. By the way, he did cut down.

Yes sir! All they had to do was talk to him and he cut down on his water usage. Good for him! And this is the truth: He cut his water usage from the amount for 60 houses to the amount for 9 houses. If that isn’t sacrificing, I don’t know what is.

That is what America is about! All of us doing our part, rich or poor! – right?

Probably Not Photo-Booth Picutres

At first I thought these were taken in a photo-booth. But, on the other hand, I don’t think photo-booths were in operation then. I googled photo-booths and could not find the date they started but I did find that the Polaroid process were patented in 1929,

These are Anna’s mother’s aunt and uncles, a sister and two brothers. I think they planned to have their pictures taken that day. They dressed up and two brought their hats.

The sister is Lena, born in 1877, the middle picture was of the brother Luther, born in 1879, and the bottom brother was Claudius (Claude for short) born in 1888. It appears Claude was after the carefree image and the other two were after a more formal image.

I estimate that the pictures was taken about 1909, before Lena’s marriage December 28, 1909.

There Are Many Ways To Give Thanks

I was thinking over the past couple of days that there Are Many Ways To Give Thanks

I don’t think there are as many ways to say, “You are welcome.”

Maybe that is why God fixed things in a way that we don’t normally hear him reply to things we say to Him.

It would be very hard to say “You are Welcome” and be original in content each time someone gave thanks to You – especially on Thanksgiving. There are just so many ways you can say “You are welcome”; “My pleasure”; “No, no! thank you!”; “Think nothing of it.”; "Ah, forget it!" and “No problem!”

Now, you perceive His silence as a Holy You Are Welcome with a certain mystic and maybe that is the way it should be.

Thanksgiving Traditions in Georgia

Note – the flag on the right looks dirty and dingy doesn’t it? You can’t tell, but it has 48 stars on it. It was produced back in the mid ‘40s,

This will be my Thanksgiving message for tomorrow. I will be busy being the go-for and host to put much thought it a blog – here goes tomorrow blog:

I love Thanksgiving. Well, love is a powerful word. Maybe it would be more accurate to say I like Thanksgiving… or more accurately, would be I enjoy Thanksgiving and all its many traditions.

In high school or right after our school years we enjoyed going hunting on Thanksgiving. We did that a time or two.

Watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade on TV with its high school bands, floats, huge helium filled characters, with Santa at the end officially bringing in the Christmas Season – that is nice to watch with the aroma of turkey cooking in the background.

Ever since I remember there has been on Thanksgiving night the lightening of what used to be the Rich’s Department Store Christmas Tree but now it is the Macy’s Christmas Tree… it unofficially officially opened the Christmas season in Georgia.

Rich’s Department Store on Forsyth Street was across the street from itself. On each side of the street was a Rich’s. If I remember correctly, on the east side was the clothing store and on the west side was the house furnishing section. Between both stores was a four level bridge with an interior and windows. The Christmas Tree was on top of the bridge and the night of the opening, on each level was a choir group or maybe a soloist signing… the lights would go off on one level and another level would light up and a church choir or whatever would sing something inspirationally Christmas from that level, and so on.

The two top department stores in Atlanta were Rich’s and Davison’s. Davison’s was owned by Macy’s – who finally after many years, changed the name to themselves. Then, in time Macy’s bought out Rich’s and their name was changed also. I was surprised the old timers around accepted the name changes – but just don’t mess with the lightening of the Christmas Tree on Thanksgiving night and the Pink Pig (a ride for children at Christmas time at Rich’s – now, Macy’s).

I think a few of our neighbors have beat Santa in the Macy’s Parade to the punch – the exterior of their houses are very well gaudy well lit in decorations.

The National Dog Show on TV after the parade is always nice to watch on Thanksgiving. And speaking of TV – there will be football games.

When I was growing up every year on Thanksgiving there would be a freshman game between UGA and Georgia Tech. The money collected for admission went to charities. For two years when I was in the Boy Scouts I had the experience of ushering that game… which was very interesting to watch the people – a good deal of them drunk.

I know a family that traditionally killed a hog on Thanksgiving. Providing it was cold enough. The family worked almost as a team, each knowing what to do in the right sequence. Once the hog was dead they moved in swiftly removing body parts to preserve and pack. They no longer do that. The head of the family that raised the hog died in his 90s. That is a traditional of the past. With subdivisions to have livestock you would have to get a special permit… then, the gutting of the hog would have all the neighbors fainting… it’s just isn’t work it… and it just does get cold enough on Thanksgiving anymore – global warming, tch tch.

Another tradition each year in Atlanta is the Hosea Williams Thanksgiving Dinner For the Poor and Homeless. More closer to home each year is MUST Ministries food line for the homeless… it is getting to be a social thing for the upper crust to serve food to the poor that day. Hosea died but the tradition Hosea started continues.

Of course some people on Thanksgiving actually give thanks. Can you believe that?

Of course, there are many traditions for the day, but the tradition mostly carried on is pigging out like there is no tomorrow.

Christians and Pumpkin Pie Ingredients.

This is a vague story about the ingredients of pumpkin pie. I am sorry I did not take notes when I listened to it on the car radio, but I got the jest of it and the punch line.

Columbus discovered the Americas while sailing to find new spices. It is unsure where he first landed on his first trip, but on his 2nd trip he landed on what would become Nassau in the Bahamas.

Other ships from England, France, Spain, and other European countries came because this was the land of the spices. One of the spices found was the perfect spice for Pumpkin Pie.

The natives refused to let the Europeans have the spice. The Europeans got very brutal with the natives to take the spice by force, killing many…. After all, not knowing Jesus, they were only savages.

The punch line: It was a near-genocide, almost destroying a group of people just for a spice for pumpkin pie.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!! And enjoy your turkey and pumpkin pie.

I have a new sports hero! Tom Glavine!

And I am not even a sports fan.

Tom pitched for the Braves for years. Then he played for the New York Mets for four years or so. The Mets were going to renew his contract for $13 million and he turned them down and decided to take a pay cut to return to the Braves.

He said he didn’t think he is worth $13,000. He had rather be close to home he said.

Good for him! I hope he is an expiration for other professional athletes. They do play for inflated salaries it seems.

Hoorah for Tom!

The Movie Mr. Brooks

We rented the DVD MR. BROOKS. It is pretty good, pretty good – but maybe a little too bloody and violent.

In this movie, unlike most movies, the good guy kills people for his own pleasure.

Earl Brooks is Kevin Costner who is a successful business man… who has a little oddity - he loves to kill people. He will pick his target and learn all he can about the person or at times two people and picks the right moment and WHAMO!

For some unexplained (or maybe I just missed it) a ghost or a figment of his imagination played by William Hurt is his running buddy.

Tracking Mr. Brooks down is a sharp detective is played by Demi Moore, who is a millionaire’s daughter, but loves her job as a detective… she is going through a nasty divorce – which ads a little spice to the plot.

There are three more humans thrown into the plot to keep it interesting and unpredictable.

We enjoyed it, and we sat on the edge of our seats as people do when watching a good thriller.

From my Pulpit

The Golden Rule, sort of:

I was in high school with a guy named Ken. Ken was a very nice person, all smiles. I did not know him that well, just well enough for us to smile at each other and call each other by our first names or nicknames.

Recently there was an article in the paper about Ken. Ken married a French lady, who inherited a From my Pulpit near Normandy, France that sleeps something like 150 people.

The article said Ken invited 20 of his closest friends of the class of 1960 and their spouses for a ten day visit at the Chateau. The article told what a nice time they had.

I felt slightly hurt that I wasn’t invited…. Especially after I read the details of what good of a time they had.

Our graduating class of 1960 had 300 people, the largest yet, at that time. Ken’s close friends, excluding the ones who have already died, made up about 1/12 of our student body. I felt excluded.

Then, I put the shoe on the other foot, so to speak… or walked a mile in his shoes, or something of a Zen nature like that.

I asked myself if I married someone who inherited a French Chateau in France and wanted to invite 20 close friends and their spouses to spend ten days, would I have invited Ken?

Of course not! Why would I? We were not that close.

I feel better now.

(In all fairness to Ken, no one in the class was excluded from a visit to their place. After the article came out he massed email everybody in the class offering a second trip to his chateu)

A Firm Handshake Could Mean a Lot

Did you know it was not until1867 that people used toilet paper? True. It was put on the market in 1867. My grandfather was born in 1879. My great grandfather lived a good portion of his life not knowing the pleasure of toilet paper.

Catalogs were not that plentiful before 1867 either. I wonder what they used? Leaves and corn cobs? I think I would think twice before shaking hands with someone.

And just think, in this modern society we whine if we have to open the restroom door from the inside without a paper towel to hold. Things could be worse.