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Remember When

  • Spam cans now back in style

    These days, I constantly stay at odds with movers and shakers, snobs and those who consider themselves as “politically correct.”Now don’t get me wrong – if you’re comfortable wearing your glasses cocked up on the top of your head – so be it.If you didn’t get enough well water as a youngster and find it necessary to tote around an expensive brand of spring water, that’s your business.But if you must talk on that bluetooth ear deal while driving by my house or strolling through the mall, I’d appreciate

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  • Lazy bugs infest my La-Z-Boy

    It’s sad that environmentalists only want to protect things like Carolina Heelsplitters.I could use their help right now; I’m on the verge of being endangered, too, and I have Mother Nature to thank for it. According to my wife and a bunch of her girlfriends, our recent thundershowers and pollen have unearthed another critter which is disrupting households from the Panhandle to Boonetown and most places in-between.One of them found a cluster of small eggs nestled in the cushion of her husband’s La-Z-Boy recliner. S

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  • Stoking the stove lands me in hot water

    Golly, the gas bill came yesterday. I didn’t think we had that many cold days in April, but the bill was still a little steep.It must be the overall gas price increase, I reckon.In glancing through the morning paper, it’s apparent that folks are up in arms over high gas prices.The news isn’t very good today.

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  • Phoenix to rise at air show

    Legend has it that the magnificent phoenix arose from ashes to shine again.Over at Lancaster County Airport on the “Rock Hill Road,” plans are in place for a special air show Saturday and Sunday. If we don’t have our usual weekend rainstorm, the Palmetto Thunder Airshow will offer young folks an opportunity to view some of our military planes of yesteryear and today. Yes sir, that phoenix is about to arise. Now, I’m not trying to hawk tickets or convince you to spend an enjoyable day around airplanes and

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  • Poking fun of front porch nappers can haunt you later in life

    Growing up, I could never refrain from making glib comments about the things I saw.

    Several years ago, I made what I perceived to be, some cute remarks about Uncle Walter’s frequent snoring bouts in his front porch rocking chair.

    He would sit there with his eyes shut tight, drooping head and wide-open mouth sleeping away.

    More than once, I secretly wished that a housefly would glide in his open cavity with the precision of the B-17 Flying Fortresses from the movie reels that made it back to England after a successful bombing mission over Germany.

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  • Mama's fruitcake always made my Friday nights extra special

    All of us can remember days and times we cherish more than others.During my grammar school days, (before part time jobs, church socials and such), Friday nights during cold winter months were extra special.Aunt Bess and Uncle Harry had long since turned in. Daddy had to be down at the cotton platform early on Saturday morning, so Mama and I had the kitchen to ourselves. Friday night was my free night.

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  • Little Ben still comes out to play

    Thank goodness. The cold winter had ended and spring jumped straight into summer.

    School was out until fall. Now, with the daylight hours longer, we found ourselves playing outside awhile after darkness set in.

    Our days were filled with sunshine. You know, it's surprising how a bunch of boys can wake up so early when school is out.

    Why, only the day before, some of us decided that homemade scooters would be our next order of business and it was time to get to work.

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  • Capt. Lowe was ahead of his time

    I recently ran into this fella wearing a baseball cap with “USAF” boldly emblazoned on it.

    Being a veteran of that proud branch of the U.S. military, I gave him an immediate “howdy.”

    He recognized me and although I didn’t know him, the airman posed a somewhat interesting question.

    “Did you really know Capt. Lowe?” he asked.

    Gosh, I thought, my old Air Force mentor is still fondly remembered.

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  • Mow money, mow money, mow money

    Spring is here again. Up on “the Charlotte Road,” we can tell things are starting to bloom and blossom.

    We’re seeing a few more pickups on the road that are pulling trailers loaded down with string trimmers, lawn tractors and gas cans.

    I guess these folks have begun their annual trek to some of the more affluent homes to manicure lush lawns and trim shrubbery and shape up those ornamental topiaries.

    Times sure have changed; cutting grass has now evolved into mowing and lawn maintenance.

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  • It sure pays to be lucky

    For some reason, boys of all ages (including me) have a lifelong fascination and obsession with automobiles.

    It’s something we grew up with, or at least I did.

    In back of our house was a magnificent, full-size garage complete with windows, a wooden floor, workbench and hinged doors.

    To one side of it was a slanted shed where the Model A was kept.

    We called it the “big car shed.” It was home to “Old Betsy,” our big, black four-door Dodge.

    We always kept the garage doors closed up tight whenever Old Betsy was home.

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