Family

AM I THE ONLY ONE . . . who realizes that happiness does not depend upon the number of gifts received?

Honestly, I don’t remember Christmas when I was 5 years old.  I’m sure the gifts were few and probably handmade.  I don’t remember being unhappy at Christmas time, so that is a good thing.

I do remember my children when they were young.  They chose one favorite item for Santa to bring.  (Think Pound Puppies and Cabbage Patch Dolls) and as parents, we gave them clothes, etc. And I don’t remember either child being unhappy.

At 75 years old, the children have families of their own.  What do I need for Christmas at this age?  I don’t need a single thing.  A phone call for each child is enough.  I am in good health.  I have a home that shelters me from the weather.  I have clothing to wear and food to eat. 

Leaning back in my recliner, looking at my surroundings, remembering days gone by, and resting my tired bones seems like a perfect Christmas to me.  I certainly won’t remember the 2024 Christmas as an unhappy one.  My life is good.

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Family, Humorous

AM I THE ONLY ONE . . . who learned to drive a car with a standard, also known as a stick shift?

A very long time ago, I was 16 and learning to drive.  My parents owned a brand-new red Volkswagen Beetle with a gearshift on the floor. Way back then Driver’s Ed was not offered in schools, nor were there classes that you could pay for and go to away from school. (at least where I lived anyway, which was the great state of Kentucky) This meant one of my parents would have to teach me to drive.  Note:  I have put a dent somewhere on every car I have driven from the age of 16 to 60.  Perhaps I needed more teaching?  Or more learning?

My dad worked long hours at the steel mill so my mother took on this scary chore.  It didn’t help that my mother, in my opinion, was a bit on the bossy side and was hardly subtle with criticisms, which was proven the second time she took me out to drive.  Long story short, within 15 minutes, she had insisted I get out of the car and walk home.  Nothing was ever mentioned again about her being my driving instructor.  She had firmly resigned from that job.

Dad took over and honestly, had the patience of Job.  He at least stuck with me long enough for me to take and pass by driver’s test.  Over the next several months, my dad had to replace the clutch three times.  The last time he put in a truck clutch, hoping it would live through my constant ‘riding the clutch’.  I also did a few doughnuts one rainy day in the middle of the street and slid into an embankment.  I pulled forward, got myself back and the road, and went on home.

I had barely pulled onto the carport when Dad came flying out of the house to see what was going on.  You see, every tailpipe from the VW was lodged firmly in that embankment.  That little car sounded just like an airplane was pulling into the driveway.

At some point the VW disappeared and a car with an automatic shift appeared.  That is another story.  Not having a clutch did not mean that the car was safe when I was driving.

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Patriotic

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Gramps use’ta say.
©R.L.King2012 #M-13

About: Military Service
(Serving with Honor)

Yesterday’s dream.

Today’s reality.

Tomorrow’s memories.

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CLOSE TO THE FIRE
© Copyright 2013 Richard Lee King

The year is Nineteen Sixty-Three, they’re fighting in Vietnam.
He’s standing close to the fire awaiting a call from Uncle Sam

They’re pulling people’s numbers, who’ll be the next to go,
each drawing we all stand by; will it be someone we know?

 He’s in his first year of college, seeking a better life,
working on building a home, a place for his soon-to-be wife.

By Sixty-Five they’re married, still worried about his fate
and though still attending classes, he’s now working for the State.

She says we’re having a baby, soon his first son will arrive.
If they call him off to war, how will they ever survive?

Soon they’ll draw more numbers, it’s called the draft lottery.
If they should pull his number Vietnam is where he’ll likely be

Some head for the Canadian border.  Others,,, possibly to Mexico,
but if his number is called, to Uncle Sam is where he’ll go.

It’s not about being brave, though that might be debated,
it’s more about facing obligations, which can never be overstated.

This is our country and we find it extremely nice,
but it wouldn’t be that way had not our forefathers paid the price.

Both his dad and oldest brother spent time with Uncle Sam
and the lessons they both taught helped him to become a man.

He’ll not volunteer likely his body won’t pass the tests,
but if his uncle calls, he’ll offer his very best.

Just as his dad in Forty-Four and his brother in Fifty-Three
when Uncle Sam calls, he’ll answer to the need.

In 44 when his dad was drafted, it was to be “the last world war.”
He had 5 kids and a wife at the ripe old age of 34.

When his brother turned 18, they were fighting in Korea
He signed up and told his parents, “When it’s over I’ll be back to see ya.”

Nearly 40 years later, with another war to be won,
his son joined the army and learned to carry a gun.

He wanted to go to college, but it’s 91 and we’re fighting in Iraq.
He enlists in the 4-year program thinking school could wait til he got back.

With each new generation’s war Uncle Sam might make that call
and another family member may be asked to give their all.

Standing close to the fire, facing the stress and strife,
for each new generation, seems it’s been our way of life.