Old(er) Folks

[Jeff]

Chet Atkins was also one of my heros. I was given an electric guitar at the age of 10 and the guitar has always been a part of me since. Chet was the master.

I think I will try to find a version of "Frog Kissen" One of the few vocals that Chet did that gets air play around here still on our old country station.

If you never been a frog kissen...
you don't know what you've been missen
there's an opportunity under every log
 
You can be a charm breaker...
You can be a handsome prince maker...
just turn around
bend down
and kiss you a frog.

[Tom]

I like that song too.

Chet said that he never had too much money until he finally made it big with his first recording.  He and his wife tried to think of something to do that would show that they were in the money

His wife finally came up with the idea of carpeting the bathroom.  That would definitely show they had money.

So they did.

Chet said they liked it so much  "we run it on into the house."

[Tom]

                          

My old buddy Ben called me tonight.  He was proud as a hound with puppies.  Seems he has bought some Tilapia to put in his farm pond.  He has bought an aquarium, pump and all the fixin's to give them a head start.

Now Ben is a fine fellow, 76 years old and strong as an ox.  Only about 5 feet tall but goes like he was 30.   I have had him show up at a job and off load the sawmill just because he was bored.

Ben's mouth never stops.  He can talk the paint off of the side of a barn.  I just prop the phone to my ear so I can say "uh-huh" everytime he stops for a breath.

Well the story tonight was about the fish.  He checks the pond out regularly to run off any duck that appears,. "Ducks cause disease",  and snakes,  "Snakes eat my fish" and turtles..........
"yep, I been sittin' at the pond all day long with my shotgun.  One of them turtles, he was just a little one, stuck his head up and I shot at him.  He went down but I don't know if I got him or not.  They'll eat all the fish you know.   Ain't going to eat my fish.   I got to get that pond cleaned out of turtles before my fish get here..  Sat there all day lookin' for'em.  That one little one is the onliest one I saw an I don't know if I got him or not; Those pellets bounce right off of the water and he's just under it.  He went down though...................................................."

I think I went to sleep.  He got a call-waiting beep on his phone and the interruption  woke me up.  He had to go answer that call, thank goodness.  They have a friend who calls a bunch of them on conference at about 7pm every night and they have a prayer meeting.  His wife wouldn't miss it, so he had to go.............would talk to me tomorrow.

My ears are still ringing.  Gael said I almost missed supper......... can't believe he's going to try to shoot all the turtles in the pond.  It's about a half acre.

....sure love these guys.

[Tom]

I stopped by one of my Older friends house yesterday on the way back from town.  His wife wouldn't have it any other way but that we sit down and have a slice of watermelon.  

While we were talking she and I got on the subject of War and she decided that she could shoot somebody if she had to do it.

Her Husband, who had been sitting quietly at the head of the table, said "I killed three men once".

Things got real quiet.  

I had never seen him look so serious before.

He sat there for a minute, studying, and then said. "I ran one of them to death....I was in the lead, the other two died laughing."

  

[Tom]

An 88 year old widow of one of our local successful dairymen looked from her porch, out across the field and said, "I used to watch A_ _ _  milk cows out there and now I just milk them warehouses".     :D  (Before her husband died he created an industrial park.....that dumb ole' farmer.)

[L. Wakefield]

   I was just reading up on the old(er) folks- and it occurred to me- 'now I are one'. Turned 50 on 9/5/01. Still no clue why they always tell me I'm old enough to know better :D :D :D

[Tom]

LW,

I got told that too, but I've found that things have really been great since I was "over the hill".  It first happened at 30 and I was really worried......things just got better.  Then at 40 my office was decorated with black ribbons and .......things just got better.  At 50 I wasn't even aware anything had happen.....probably out in the canoe or something.  Now I'm waiting for 60 and still can't find time to do much work because I'm to busy having fun playing at what others complain about having to "work" at.  (not supposed to end a sentence like that....I know.)

My idol was old Mr. Miley who at some past 80 year told me he was having the time of his life hugging and kissing all the girls in the office.  They would chase him down to give him a hug and he would just beam.  "I couldn't get away with this when I was a young man", he would say.  :D

HAPPY BIRTHDAY  8)

[CHARLIE]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LW!!] 8) 8) 8)
You ain't old 'til ya get up to Tom's age, then your mind will start going as is evident in Tom's note. Nothing to worry about though. You won't notice a difference........but others will. Life will get blissful and carefree.;D

[Tom]

One of my older friends' brother-in-law died last week from old age and a bad heart.  He was well known in N. Jacksonville for riding his bicycle and carrying his fishing poles.  He loved to fish and spent most of every day at one or two of several fishing holes within an hour of his house.  His health failed and his daughter took him to the west coast of Fla. where he spent his last days happily visiting with new friends in an "assisted living" facility.

In WWII, Tommy, that was his name, was a carpenter and was stationed aboard a maintenance ship, which was a converted LST.  

When the USS Missouri, The Mighty Mo', was appointed as the location for the acceptance of Japan's surrender, Tommy was one of the carpenters who built the platforms and stages on the deck of the ship for the ceremony.  He then returned to his ship and watched McArthur preside over Japan's humility from a distance.

Those moments move further and further away with the loss of each and every serviceman, regardless of his job or celebrity.

When you look across the sea of markers at the VA Cemetery you realize how fragile the memories of those individuals are as we pursuit our goals in life.

Tommy was a smart man who did his job, protecting our country, by driving nails and sawing wood.  He loved his God, his country, his family, his fishing and now he's gone.

I heard once that a person is only important as long as he is remembered.  Do you suppose that is true, or do we all carry a little bit of the faceless and nameless with us throughout our lives because of their selfless deeds?

[L. Wakefield]

   Well- I do know this. On our place is a graveyard of parents and children dating back through the 1800s and maybe further (it's dark right now and I'm not going down there to shine a light and get total accuracy)- but they are dead and gone, and those who knew them are gone. So- no specific memories. But- the gravestones tell a touching story of the parents buried side by side, and then the little gravestones of babies and young children all dying within a short period- evidently one of the diphtheria epidemics or like that.

   As I stood there one year reading the stones and trying to figure it out, I suddenly realized that they were my neighbors. Whether dead for 100 or 200 years- it didn't matter. I grieved for the loss and felt for the parents as if they were living and standing beside me. I had never before felt that kind of a connection.
  
   I feel that memorials help. Truly my spiritual sensory abilities are not acute enough to pick up this information in the absence of the gravestones 'telling' me. But once I realized- the connection was real.
  
   Some people believe that the only reality is what we perceive- that it doesn't exist unless there is someone there. (solipsism) I don't buy that. Some people believe that collectively we shape reality with our perception. I think that's a slippery one- cuz if you share a delusion, you all go off into the dark together- like at Jonestown in Guyana.

   I think we do best when we each try to discern truthfully, and then work together to understand.

   There is a lot of that going on right now- and it's important.

   As we get older our memories get richer. Share them with others, because you are a treasure trove (OK, so your kids don't buy that- they will, later).

   These newsgroups give an extraordinary opportunity to share perceptions. I love it!        (I need an icon of the rabbit rolling over in the grass, laughing and kicking up its heels. of course it's clover, donchaknow..) :D :D ;)  lw

[CHARLIE]

At my workplace, I've seen people put more than 30 or 40 years of hard work, long hours, worry, stress, etc, etc. Then they retire and within 2 years, maybe less, only a few knew they existed. So, if you think you are not expendable, think again. Story telling is extremely important to keep the memory of the young men and women that gave their lives for our liberty ongoing. Otherwise, we are going to have graveyards full of crosses that have no meaning. It is important for us to educate ourselves and to pass that education onto others so they will know. It is important that we stress the importance of the message so our children will continue telling the stories so they won't be lost. It is so important for the younger generations to listen to the older generations. There is a lot to be learned. Lessons abound. But when we are young, we're too busy and too smart to listen. Once we realize how important it is to listen.....sometimes it is too late.  

[Bibbyman]

Some 25 years ago I had delivered some logs to my Uncle Chick's sawmill up the dirt road for my place.  I stopped in one Friday evening after work to see if he had them sawn up yet.  He said "Be here at 7:00 in the morning and we'll get started on'em."  O.K.  I hadn't figured it that way but I could do that - not exactly being a stranger around logs or sawmills.

Drove up in the driveway/front yard/log yard at the appointed time.  Stepped out of the pickup right into a swarm of beagles.  It was already about 90 degrees and the sun was just burning the heavy dew off the grass. Promised to be a scorcher.

Uncle Chick steps out on the porch dressed in his khaki pants, tank-top style undershirt and house slippers.  The pack of beagles stops barking and rushed to him for attention.  He had a big porcelain coffee mug in his fist - heavy enough to pound in posts.  Even though he was well in his 60's he was a big and powerful man – well over 6' tall.  

He greeted me by saying: "The Homelite is down at the engine,  cut us up some dry slabs and build a fire in the engine.  I'll get my shoes on and be out directly."  

I went down and proceeded to cut up about a half pickup load of slabs about 3 foot long and built a fire in the Case 16 steam engine.  He got out there and started working some levers and turning valves on the old engine.  Kind of reminded me of the Wizard behind the curtain in OZ.  

While the fire was heating the water,  he got the old Allis WD 45 with a home-made loader – single action cylinders on the lift,  manual trip on the manure bucket – manual steering.  He picked up a black oak butt cut log and put it on the skid blocks.  Then cant hooked it onto the carriage and dogged it down – using a combination of blocks at hand to toe the little end out from the knee.

Said: "Check the gage and see if she's got 80 pounds yet."  Did that and declared it did.  He made a pull on the long stick hinged to the frame on the mill.  At the top was hooked to a length of clothesline connected to the throttle on the engine. "PaChunk" came form the engine and nothing happened.  He grumbles and goes back to the big four-foot drive wheel on the side of the engine and puts his knee against it and pulls on the top with both hands.  The wheel turns and the engine goes '"Chunka, Chunka, Chunka".  I'm standing at my "slab technician position" next to 80 foot long by 8" wide belt - inline with the blade that starting to turn.  The blade wobbles about an inch as it slowly turns.  "How in the hell is this going to work."  I'm thinking.  

Uncle Chick returns to the command position and pulls the stick again.  The engine goes "Bang, Bang, Bang – Chunka, Chunka, Chunka",  behind me.  The belt and blade start to pick up speed.  The blade continues to wobble until it reaches some point where it straightens right up and ran true. Uncle later explained that the blade "stood up" when it got to 540 RPMs.

A pull on another lever and the carriage with the log on it lurched about a foot – then started its chattering and jerky way down the track.  It reminded me of an empty Radio Flyer wagon being pulled across a gravel driveway.

To be continued... 8)

[Bibbyman]

The log hit the blade and nothing exploded as I was expecting.  The chips started to fly off the bottom of the log and the slab fell clear in front of me.  The carriage chatters back and drags  past the blade as it wobbled and clawed at the face of the log – thus changing it's rough complexion from nested arcs going one way to a crisscross set of arcs going both ways.

Uncle Chick pulls on the lever that indexes the log out the proper amount.  Just to make sure,  he checked the section of rusty carpenter's square bolted to the block with stove bolts and his pointer made from heavy wire.

Another pull on the stick and the "Bang, Bang, Bang – Chucka, Chucha, Chucka" process is repeated.  Followed by the scream of the teeth ripping away at the log.  About halfway down the log something else happens:  The blade looses RPMs – ran out of steam "literally".  The carriage is stopped until the blade catches up RPMs.  Then the carriage pushes forward again.

I expected to catch the flitch (even though I didn't know it was called a flitch then),  but Uncle Chick stopped the carriage with just the last top corner of the flitch hanging. He reversed the carriage, dragging the flitch back with the log.  He grabbed the flitch at the bottom edge and gave a great pull,  breaking it free from the log and stacking it behind him for later edgeing.

Another flitch or two was produced the same way then the log was tuned 180 degrees and the other side flattened.  And so on it went.

It's past 9:00 o'clock now and we got our first log done.  Uncle shuts things down and picks up his coffee mug and tells me to put some more wood in the engine to get the pressure back up.  He goes to the house to return in about 10 minutes with a full cup of steaming hot, black coffee.  It's up to about 98 now – degrees and humidity. (good thing they hadn't invented the heat index back then)

He says to get on the WD and put another log on the skid blocks.   I'd driven a number of tractors but not this one but I finally got it started.  "The steering is broke!"  I thought.  I had to be..  I couldn't turn the wheel and I hadn't even pickup a log yet!  How did he do it?  I gave it all I had and finally the wheel rims moved a few degrees but the tires where they met the ground staid where they were.  When the tractor started to move,  they came along and I was able to direct the beast to the log and managed to get it on the skid blocks.

We get this log sawn and the edging done and most of the morning was done.  Is I lived just on down the road,  I went home for a bite to eat.  Uncle Chick said to be back up about 1:00 to build up the fire again.

I got back and he was sharpening and swedgeing the teeth.  Gave me directions on firing the engine.  By the time he was done sharpening, the pressure was up again.

In the heat of the day we got the last of the 4-5 logs sawn and quit.  We'd probably sawn 3-400 board feet that day.

Have a great weekend everyone!  8)

[Tom]

Yesterday I had lunch with two of my old timers again.  The one  that I have described before here who was a farmer/sheet metal worker/roofer/air conditioner technician/bulk oil company owner/bee keeper/bowl turner/electric motor rewinder/marathon runner has just purchased a metal lathe.  He is so proud of it.  It wasn't working when he bought it, the cross feed didn't work. He dismantled it and fixed it. He says.......

"only cost me $100.  The man said it was called a gunsmiths lathe......I never made a gun before"

What do you reckon is in this old codgers mind now.  Lord knows, he's not afraid to try anything and anything he tries he has to study.  He has already used the lathe to turn shafts on electric motors he is working on but I can see the glint in his eye when he says "gun lathe".

[Tom]

Oh, I forgot..........

The other one who is a retired AC technician/machinest/cabinet maker who suffers from the initial symptoms of Alzheimer, has just gotten a new set of hearing aids.  They don't work the way he says they should because he can hear but can't understand. We told him that may not have anything to do with the hearing aid.  It took him a few minutes to understand the joke but he laughed a few munutes later when we were in another conversation. We went through a long rig-a-marole to figure out what he was laughing about...........anyway..

His aids don't work so good and when he talks he yells.  What he says has nothing to do with what is going on.

"TOM, EVER HEARD THE ONE ABOUT THE GUY THAT JUMPED OUT OF THE PLANE"

"No, I don't think you ever told me that one."  I say knowing I've heard it at least several times."

His name is John and so is the other friend.  He'll look across the table and say "TELL HIM JOHN, THAT'S A GOOD ONE".

"John, you tell him, it's your joke".

"WELL I CAN'T SAY AS I CAN RIGHTLY REMEMBER HOW IT GOES"...............WHEN DO YOU RECKON THEY CHANGED COOKS..........THEY FORGOT TO PUT ANY SEASONING IN THESE BEANS WHEN THEY DUMPED THEM OUT OF THE CAN"

"Yeah John, sometimes its better and sometimes its not....try the squash, they're good.

..............................................WELL THE COPS MUST LIKE IT.........THERE'S ENOUGH OF'EM IN HERE TODAY...........THE DONUT SHOP MUST BE CLOSED........I'LL BET THEY COME IN FOR A FREE MEAL..........DID YOU GO TO CHURCH SUNDAY, JOHN?...

"No, we didn't make it this Sunday John.....did you?"

"...........................................WELL I DON'T REMEMBER.....I THINK I DID......."

"Well what did the preacher say?"

"OH.........SAME OL STUFF, I'M SURE..... ........UH......UH.....DID YOU SEE THEY'RE TAMPERING WITH THE MARKET AGAIN.....GOING TO MESS UP THE INTEREST AGAIN.........ETC...ETC.....

I just have to sit back and listen.  It is really interesting listening to all this disjointed conversation.  One a man who, in his old age is sharp as a tack and his friend who is losing it and knows it.  It makes my emotions surface when I think of these two fellows being friends for all these years and caring for one another as if it were a marriage.

[TanglewoodTimber]

As the new kid on the block here,  I am extremely proud Ihave found such a site.   You gentlemen are the heart of what makes America what it is.   No one can ever tell me that logger and mill operator have no sense of giving and receiving of what this ol' world is all about.  Thank you for sharing so much of yourselves.  I hope one day  I am able to give to  this site the kind of justice you have since it began back in June, some time.   When I visit the old (er) folks I have on my route I am going to begin to take notes and record what they have to say.  Thanks, Guys.   Frank Pender ;)

[John_Boisselier]

Hardly anyone realizes how very lonely many older folks are.  Very few have any time or interest in talking to older folks much less listening or learning.  The old apprenticeship programs for learning a trade also taught respect and made the participants aware of everything that they could learn from their elders.  I think that the day that I can't or won't learn is the day I begin to die.  Shipping the elderly off to the handy nursing home the moment they become inconvenient or the slightest bit annoying is nothing more than mental euthanasia.   >:(  I've learned more from my older friends and neighbors than I ever did in college.  

[L. Wakefield]

   I had a similar thought a few days ago- driving by one of the assisted living facilities- seeing 2 white-haired folks in the parking lot (still walking and driving- YES!)- and I had a flash of seeing no one but other oldsters- never seeing the young- and I thought- I don't want to go there! Granted that part of the task of turning any living facility into 'home' is the transition of making 'there' become 'here'- still, it was a powerful moment in terms of turning me toward the value of keeping the elderly in a central position in society, rather than isolated by their need for special services.    lw

[Tom]

When Charlie and I were little boys, we were visited by my Grandmother's older sister, our Aunt Mattie,  who would stay for weeks at a time.

We loved Aunt Mattie who whiled her time crocheting Afgans, lace and telling us stories.  She and Grandmother were raised in a time before mass media and and their entertainment was by word of mouth. We were so lucky to benefit from the "spill-over" of this age of society and I would like to share one of the things she would repeat to us.

Old Jeremiah jumped in the fire,
The fire was so hot,
he jumped in the pot.
The pot was so black,
he jumped in the crack.
The crack was so high,
he jumped in the sky.
The sky was so blue,
he jumped in the canoe.
The canoe was so deep,
he jumped in the creek.
The creek was so shallow,
he jumped in the tallow.
The tallow was so soft,
he jumped in the loft,
the loft was so rotten,
he jumped in the cotton,
the cotton was so white,
he jumped out of sight,
and that's where he stayed all night.

You may think that this is just a meaningless dity from an ignorant backwoods country girl but quite the contrary is true.  Education and religion in those days rode hand-in-hand and if you look up Jeremiah in the dictionary for spelling, you will find this: one who is pessimistic about the present and foresees a calamitous future.  Along with his being a prophet, the lessons to be taught were numerous.

Charlie and I  would sit at her feet on the front porch having the Gee Whilikers scared out us and hoping for another story rather than being sent to bed.  They were short and to the point stories that left your imagination to run all night.  

Uncle Willis was a sleep walker.  One night he walked out of the house, down the lane and awoke, knee deep in the ford of Sweet Water Creek, about an eighth of a mile from the house, with a panter (panther) screaming.

It scared him so bad he never sleep walked again.

(and neither did we.

[Tom]

Today I was sawing at Mr. Tommy's.  You remember him, don't you......the fellow that built the little house out of one tree?

We were sawing Pine for him to refurbish the old house that can be seen in the background of these pictures.  One of his friends came to help and brought his 93 year old father who wanted to watch.  Elliot, the father, used to be a sawyer.  You could see the light in his eyes and the smile on his face every time we did anything.  We would pick up a cant hook, he would smile.  We would roll a log, he would smile.  When we began sawing he would grin so big he could hardly hold his pipe.

                                        


Well, as many times happens, he was made comfortable and left in a chair to watch while everybody was busy tending to business.

We broke for dinner and all he wanted to talk about was his days sawying logs.  They had a lumber yard and apparently he could really put the boards on the ground.

About 2:30 in the afternoon he was getting tired and I was afraid a little bored and had moved himself out of the sun into the car and was watching from the front seat.

I went to the car and offered to put him on the porch out of the sun, but he said he was comfortable so I left him.

As time wore on I imagined him running his mill and imagine that he was imagineing the same.  If it had been me I would have wanted to open up a log.  I figured he had resigned himself to the fact that he was old, living in a nursing home and would never saw a log again.......I couldn't stand it.

                                  


"Would you like to saw a log", I asked?
"I sure wish I were able to", He said.

"Well come on, lets go saw that big one over there..I'll help and we'll saw it together",  I said.

So we did.




He was as happy as a 5 year old kid.  He got to load the log and level it, saw off the slabs, turn the cant and ended up sawing 14 inch boards, about 14 or 15 of them.  

                                        

His son figured it was time for them to go after we finished the log and he got in the car, all smiles, and they drove away.  

I'll bet he has a story to tell his friends at the nursing home tonight.

I'll hope it's not, but I'll bet I saw him saw his last log today..

[CHARLIE]

Tom! What a great story! Your thoughtfullness made the old man's day. I bet you felt pretty good about it too.

[Bibbyman]

He was alive again.. not just living.

[Gordon]

Your a CLASS ACT Tom. I think that says it all.

Gordon

[Frank_Pender]

  Sometimes some of us think we are pushing the age envelope sooner than we really are and at other times the opposite is true.  I have NEVER FELT myself as getting older or younger until a few weeks ago. :D  I will let you folks decide that issue for me.  Here is the setting.  One of my grandsons is 18 years old and a senior in our local high school.    He was looking for additional $ to go on a trip to Canada to do some snowboarding.   He had asked his Gma for a job and she had none.   Sshe then suggested asking me.   Well, he knew me well as he had been one of my students in the 7th grade and realized I was a task master.  He finally asked the question and I gave him a job.  I said that it would start at minimum wage and go up if he proved worthy.   He showed on time and did very well.  He stacked lumber, wood, cleaned up around the mills, shoveled sawdust.  All this was after school for several days until it was so dark he could not see well.   He earned his money to go snowboarding and then some.  I did raise his pay a dollar an hour.   ;)  His Gma reported to t=me that he had told her the following:   "Grandma, I thought that grandpa was an old man.  He works like that all the time?   I got so tired that I could not eat dinner one night, when I got home.  He can really work."   Question: Is time and age a "relative thing"?   I leave that answere to each of you to decide. 8) 8) 8)

[Tom]

Frank,

I think time and age is a relative thing.  

My relatives call me "Tommy"...... but my customers call me "Mr. Tom.

Hmmm  sounds like an old  rock song . :D