Category: Uncategorized

By:  Donna Hale Chandler

Does anyone even remember Service Stations? You know – gas stations. You pulled in, ran over a rubber hose making the bell ring and out came the Service Station Attendant. You roll down your window and say something like ‘Fill ‘er up.’ Or maybe ‘$5.00 worth of regular.’ Yes, $5.00 worth of regular went a long way when you were 16 with no place to really go except cruise around on Friday night.

While the gas was pumping into the tank, the young man would clean your windshield and your back window. If you popped the hood for him, he would also check your oil, show you the dip stick and let you know if you’re a ½ quart or quart low. Then he’d come back with that can of  Valvoline 10 w 30 and add the needed oil. If asked, he would check the air in that right tire that seemed a little low and bring the air hose over to fill it with the needed amount.

It was a service we evidently took for granted because I can remember when self-service gas stations started popping up here and there. My young, supposedly economically conscience self was appalled and voiced loudly to anyone who would listen that I would NOT be pumping my own gas. Think of the man who just lost his job so I could pump my own gas! He might have a family or he might be trying to put himself through school. I had all kinds of reasons for protesting self-service but of course progress arrived whether I approved or not.

I actually think of those same arguments when I am in a store with self-checkout. For a fleeting moment I wonder who has lost a job – someone with a family to feed or a student trying to go to school. But the thoughts vanish quickly because the line is shorter and moves faster in the self-checkout section. What happened to that idealist young person? Life – life happened.

Progress is arriving every day. Good? Bad? Each person decides for themself.

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Gram use’ta say

“Never shop for groceries when you’re hungry.”

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MOONLIGHT ON THE WATER
© By: Richard L. King
From the book Nice & Naughty

 His imagination, working overtime, conjures up a vision,
could it be a dream, or perhaps a premonition?

Watching from the shoreline, not a cloud in the sky,
reflections of the moon create a sparkle in her eye.

Waves crashing to the shore, she lets out a passionate sigh
slipping back into the shadows, each knowing precisely why.

……To the faintest mist of salty air, slowly he awakens,
lying there alone, could he have been mistaken?

Could a dream so beautiful, leave him this severely shaken,
punishment possibly,,, for the liberties his mind had taken?

An endless wave of florescence, not a cloud in the sky,
the full moon reflecting as he breathes a mournful sigh.

His imagination, working overtime, conjured up a vision,
was it all a dream, or perhaps a premonition?

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Gramps use’ta say
©R.L.King2012 #402

About: Life’s Lessons

“Ignorance ain’t something ya learn,
lots a folks jist come by it natural like.”

By:  Donna Hale Chandler

I think I have mentioned already that my daughter was a Little Chatterbox. She was the Champion Questioner. Some questions were innocent and would bring a smile to my face. Some questions were more likely to bring about a life threatening stroke.

One cold, snowy, winter day in Michigan, we were hurrying into the grocery store. The wind was wicked, we had to park in the ‘lower 40’ of the store parking lot, and I had a death grip on Heather’s hand. As I practically dragged her little 5 year-old body along past all the empty handicapped parking spaces, she suddenly planted her feet and came to a dead stop asking, “Mommy, why didn’t we park here? It’s a lot closer.”

“Because it’s a handicap space,” I said and with an even firmer grip, urged her on, trying to quicken the pace.

Once we were finally inside the warm walls of the grocery store and staring down the first aisle, Heather asked again about those empty parking spaces, “Tell me again Mommy. Why couldn’t we park in those closer spaces?”

“Because they’re handicap spaces, Heather.”

Then it came, the long drawn out, almost but not quite, whinny voice, “But Mommmmy,I don’t understand, what does a handicap car look like?”

That is a question that brought a smile, “It’s not the car that’s handicapped, Heather, it’s the person that drives the car. If the PERSON is handicapped they get to park closer so they don’t have to walk so far.”

To which, she shrugged her shoulders, and in an exasperated voiced said, “Well, why didn’t you say so in the first place.”

Moral of the Story: Take the extra steps; leave the handicap spaces for those ‘handicapped cars’ that benefit from them — and of course teach your children to do the same.

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Gram use’ta say

“You’ll catch more flies with honey
than with vinegar.”

By: Richard L. King

I’m from the “Rock & Roll” era, boy to have been a song writer back in the day….

Recently, I was listening to Grand Funk Rail road singing a song called “Closer to home.” I’ve heard it hundreds of times and I think it’s a great song, but I had never really listened to it.   It sounds like this guy is the captain of his ship and he’s been lost on the ocean for days…..   Anyway, as it comes near to the end of the song….. You can hear the waves coming in and he starts singing “I’m getting closer to my home,” I’m getting closer to my home, I’m getting closer to my home,,,   over and over… I counted them,,,   he sings that same line 22 times.

Makes you wonder, as the guys get together to write that song someone asks, “How do you want to end it? Oh, I’ve got it, we’ll say, “I’m getting closer to my home……” then someone says, “That’s a great line, we should repeat it.” Then they decide to repeat it several more times. It makes you wonder what they must have been smoking, doesn’t it?   How do you decide on exactly 22 times to repeat the line…..? Not two, not three, TWENTY TWO TIMES!!!!!   One guy says, “I think we should do it one more time, I just don’t think 21 times works out right, we should do it 22.”   You think they were trying to set a “Guinness book record?

Or how bout the Almond Brothers song about being, “tied to the whipping post,” repeated over and over so many times. (I didn’t count them)

Then there is Bachman Turner Overdrive and You ain’t seen nothing yet,,,, repeated 9 times.

Or, Golden Earring’s 1982 song Twilight Zone, “Where you gonna go… ‘when the Bullet hit’s the Bone,’ repeated 12 times….

These are all great songs, but who decides that a line is so good that you’re going to repeat it 12 times or 22 times…..

I’m just sayin…. I’m just sayin…. I’m just sayin…. I’m just sayin…. I’m just sayin…. I’m just sayin….

…Maybe I’ve said enough.

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Gramps use’ta say
©R.L.King2012 #209

About: Persevering

 “Distressing questions
with depressing options
offer opportunities…
for impressive solutions.”

I am definitely an ‘animal person’. Three of my grandchildren have fur, four legs and a tail. They are treated like members of the family. And as a grandchild they are expected to behave. Parents teach children manners (or at least they should) so why not this family member.

Recently we were having dinner at a restaurant that provided outdoor seating. We had just placed our beverage order when two gentlemen (?) were seated at a nearby table with two rather large dogs. Number 1 complaint, the dogs barked at EVERYTHING. Number 2 complaint, server stopped to pet the dogs. Did she go inside and wash her hands afterward – doubtful. Number 3 complaint, the leash on one of the dogs was long enough for him to come to our table and lay his drooling snout on the arm of a member of our party.

At that point the dog owner was asked, by our friend with the slobbery arm, to please keep the dog at their table. To his credit the dog owner complied but seemed surprised that we were not as enamored with his lumbering ball of hair as he was.

A different time, a different day, we were again seated outdoors at a restaurant. After all we live in Florida; we should enjoy the fresh air and sunshine. A young couple came in as we were eating with a tiny little pooch that they actually picked up and SAT ON THE TABLE. Yes, it was small but it was still a dog and it still felt it necessary to sniff all around the surface plus the condiments leaving behind wet doggie nose prints before it stretched out for a little snooze.

The examples of poor parenting could go on and on. The poor dogs are just being dogs. It’s the doggie mommy and daddy that need a good slap up the side of their head. We love our life in this warm climate but there are drawbacks, such as pet owners who think that everyone should share the same pet germs, pet hair, pet drool and pet misbehavior that they do. NOT SO.

If Fido is truly a member of your family, teach him to be polite and don’t try to inflict him on everyone within leash distance. Just use some common sense, PLEASE.

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Gram use’ta say

“Don’t judge people by their appearance.
They might be as ugly as home-made soap,
but still as beautiful as a rainbow on the inside.”

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