Tell Me a Story Dad

Tell me a story Dad,
about the times when you were here
Talk about the good times that you remember
the times when we were all together

Share with us how it was back then
when things weren't so easy
Times when life made you work for it and
days when your hands hurt when you got home

I remember some times Dad
seeing you sitting in your easy chair late at night
Your mind still working out problems
to make sure everything would be alright

How you rode a horse
always sitting high in the saddle
becoming one with the animal
and letting it know its worth

The hours you spent on a tractor
turning the soil so it give us what we need
Whether it be hot or cold
You just put your shoulder to the sun or wind and paid them no heed

How you spoke with a kind word
Your voice never quivered nor seemed un-sure
how people looked up to you 
and I know that even now,  they still do

There always seemed to be others
who stopped and listened when you spoke
People whether they knew you well
Or just knew of you by your style of living

To many you were Mr. Fielding
and respectfully addressed that way
A man you could go to if needed
when no one else would be there for them

Your  life wasn't always easy Dad
We threw a lot at you that's for sure
But you always seem to have the answers
If you were ask to help set things right.

A man with so much to do
But the one who always found time if we ask of you
You cared for so many
Always giving, never taking for yourself

From sunup to sunset sometimes
you willing played life's game
living one day at a time until each was complete
trying so hard to make our lives the best they could be

I'm not saying you never gave us time
you tried to as much as you could
and for those times when now I think back
I smile and thank you for what you did.

Six Boys became Men because of you Dad
we share a bond that only you could have put there
Its a feeling of pride and a sense of well being
Knowing that we would not be the men we are

If not for you

So come to me now Dad in my thoughts and dreams
and tell me the stories of your life
I'll sit and listen I promise for the rest of mine
Learning only now,  how important you were and still are to me

I still reach out to you Dad
It may be just a thought
or a memory of something you did
Your still fresh in my mind Dad
and  I promise you will never go away

Johnny
11/7/2015

How Dare You Take My Life In Your Hands.

The other day upon returning from Houston I witnessed two large personal passenger trucks play "catch me if you can" on IH 10 close to the Texas./Louisiana Stateline.  They  were weaving back and forth across lanes at speeds that must have been well over 90 MPH.  Add to the fact that it was raining and a semi-heavy level of traffic. 

Other people were re-acting to their "game" by hitting their brakes, weaving into other lanes or dropping their speed suddenly so as to miss being hit by these "children" on the road. 

Then it happened, suddenly where they had gotten to ahead of me,  one car swerved to avoid collision with one of the trucks which had cut them off the driver drove into the side of another innocent driver starting a 4 car accident. 

The two "children" in the trucks continued on their way. 

So... My question is How Dare You?

I see it everyday... People who have no remorse in endangering others on our streets and highways.  Leaving others motorist to fend for themselves against their in-mature acts of driving.  The results of their actions can have such a devastating effect on others around them and they seemed not to care.  I am not saying to ever try and stop or confront these "brats" but if by chance you get ever a partial plate number call the police on them.

 Or... in many cases they drive the same roads each day playing their threatening games.  If you notice them more then once, there is a good chance it happens everyday.  Call the police and let them know that they have been observed by you more then once at a specific time and location. 

There is a name for the type of behavior these culprits are exhibiting while driving to show off, in the Spanish language it is called "Showing Off Your  Machismo"... They are trying to show "Look.. I am a Man... Look What I Can Do." and they feel they have the "right" to do so... When in reality this is one of the least acts you can do away from being a Man.  To show off to others around you with the hope of being looked up to for threatening other peoples lives?

How stupid... No one has the "right" to endanger,  their passengers or other innocent drivers and their passengers just to prove how great they are...

There is a place for those kind of drivers.  Its called a Race Track... Take your games there.. Go to a Controlled Environment designed for those types of driving... Leave you friends and other drivers out of your fun and games.  If you want to kill yourself... that's your decision.. Our streets and highways are not a race track nor a game board for you to play your silly games...

I am hoping that someone who is reading,  this who does or knows someone who plays "games" on our roadways will stop and think or have enough concern for their safety and the others around them to share this with them....  

Unfortunately, I doubt that the actual unsafe drivers will be reading this because their way of getting information is by TEXTING while driving...

Which brings another concern all its own..

John Glass

 

The Store I Call Wally World

Yesterday I went to a Superstore to get a can of spray paint (brown and cheap). I'm not going to give its name but it starts with W and ends with T.  So from now I'll just refer to it as Wally World. 

 I parked close to the door where I knew the paint dept. was. Went in. got the cheap paint and headed to the cashier. I was told 2 times by a Customer Service Agent that they just closed their register even though their "light" was still on...

Frown....

I ended up being served by the closest "open" register WHICH ENEDED UP BEING ON THE FAR END OF THE STORE.

Double Frown...

Do you think I left without saying something? Well, if you did.. You don't know me as well as you thought you did....

Finding the Customer Service SUPERVISOR who was sitting behind a counter MUCH CLOSER to the door I came in, COUNTING HER MONEY. Yes, I waited until she was into counting her $20.' s and I shared with her my concern... She looked up at me with a frown and I could tell she was upset because I made her lose her count.

After sharing with her my concern which I made sure was long and drawn out I said "Oh... I apologize for making you lose your count... guess your going to have to start all over again aren't you" Bet your feel kind of frustrated right now, don't you?"

And I turned with no more frowns but a smile on my face,  I walked my way out the door which was close to my car.....

Yes... I'm getting old and mean... but I hope she got my point...

Onward Thru The Fog..
Johnny

After-Thought:  : At least the Cheap Brown Paint WORKED WELL.

Henry and the Visitors

At the State School where I worked as a young man there was always something to laugh about. 

Life and working there and was always interesting.  You have to understand that laughing was in many of their minds a pressure release and "messing with people" which was in most cases were taken in jest and was a way for them to be able to accept who they were and accepting being there.

There was a "client" there by the name of Henry.  Henry believed that he assisted with the Administration of the School so he of course dressed the part everyday. He always dressed in a suit and carried a briefcase everywhere he went.  He would walk the streets on what he called "doing a errand for the Superintendent". 

One day... I and several of the "boys" were sitting on the lawn of Dorm 6 just watching the world go by...   Down the sidewalk came Henry with the always present briefcase.  As he approached I noticed a unfamiliar car coming up the street behind him.  The two elderly couples,  two men in the front seat and their wives in the back.  As they approached  it was obvious they were looking for a certain place on campus. 

To our luck both Henry and car meet just next to where we were sitting... The man in the front passenger seat called out to Henry as they came to a stop.  Henry turned and the man asked if him if he could direct them to the Recreation Hall?  Henry turned, looked down the street and in a very dignified manner gave them the longest route I think they could have taken on campus since the Rec Hall was only about 300 yards down the same road. 

After he gave them the directions he asked "Would you like for me to call ahead for you and let them know that you are coming?"  The man said that would be great and thanked him for his help.  Henry turned.. walked over to a metal light pole, put down his briefcase and pretended to pickup a phone receiver and dial a phone number on a "ghost phone" that wasn't there.

 I heard him say... "Ethel... This is Henry, I've got 2 couples on their way down there... Could you kind of keep a eye out for them??????

We all tried to keep a straight face as Henry turned back to them and said "Ethel wants to know who it is your coming to visit so she can make sure their there." 

By that time the car was easing away and I swear all four people had sunk a little lower in the car seats. 

Henry turned look at us and said "Well... how rude... I hope they don't find it.",  turned and continued his walk down the street after of course picking up his briefcase... Henry never went anywhere without his briefcase. 

I can see it playing out as if it were just yesterday....

Thank you Henry,,, for helping me better understand life and learn the real meaning of the old phrase..  Ask a silly question... get a silly answer....

Johnny

The Other Boys In Our Past..

I talk much about my brothers, our parents, and others in our family in  my little jaunts into our past.  But there were some other "boys" that just about each one of us, my immediate family, who also left their marks on the inside walls of the our head.

The "State School" was what it called by most in that area.  After you car climbed the tall hill on the Farm Market Road the campus sat just on the left, its open gates and green lawns with the fishing pond gave one the impression that life down that winding road surly was a place of comfort and a place were the State had  made a place for who need a place for coping with life that was, "just a little bit different" then ours.

 We called them "The Boys", because in most of their cases their mental capabilities, somewhere along their way,  had stopped them from reaching adulthood.  We called them "boys" because that in reality was what they were even though many of them were well into what we now call our "Senior Years".

At one time or another just about everyone in my family had taken on the challenge of working there.  It was a place where you learned a lot about what life can be like for others and how it is so important to help take care of others who are not as fortunate as ourselves.

I first worked there in my last year of High School, going each afternoon to the Central Kitchen and helping to prepare the evening meals, then serving the meals to them in the dining rooms that were attached to several of the dorms that they called home.  It was a abrupt awaking to me of just how lucky I was to have a "normal" life outside of those walls and fences. 

Several years later, I returned to work there helping with the caretaking of a group of them who lived on a specific dorm.  These were the "higher level boys".  Most of these boys held down small jobs in one of the work programs on the campus that allowed them to keep themselves "busy".  It also gave them a pittance of a salary which allowed them extra money that was above what their "state" monthly allowance provided.


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No matter what though, each day came and went just about the same as the day before. Up early, dress for the day, breakfast then off to work.  For the ones on the dorm that did not work we tried to keep them "busy".  Playing games with them, a couple hours of trying to teach them "life skills".  But mainly just making sure that their days went be un-eventful.

In the afternoons, the "working boys" would return for supper, and then about 4 hours of recreation time.  Our job then was to supervise them and I found myself wanting to "entertain" them.  I would take a small group of down to the Recreation Hall for evening dances on Fridays or movies on Saturday evenings.  Some employees would bring their "clients" and go to sit along the bleachers to watch over their "boys" from a distance.  I couldn't do that. I felt that it was part of my job to be with them and interact with them.  On Sunday afternoons I would take a small group to the pond that lay just inside the front gate for a couple of hours of fishing. 

 Never did I have to worry about one of them "running away" even though there had been instances where I feel a few had gotten "lost" and wandered away from the school in the past.  In most of those cases the surrounding community did their part and would report the sighting and in many cases keep "an eye on them" until someone came to get them and bring them "home". 

I enjoyed working there and learned a lot from the experience.  More then anything else I learned to be humble and a strong sense of understanding that everyone needs help every now and then.  I guess that's why even now, if I see one who seems lost or un-certain of their situation I found myself wanting to say "Can I help you?.. 

I guess I do that because I remember the looks and smiles of those "boys" when they understood that they meant something to someone, and the hope that when  and if I am ever in the same kind of situation, someone will come to my aid. 

Isn't that part of life? Being here for each other?  Knowing that you can make a difference maybe in just a small way.

 Sometimes it takes so little to let others know that you really do care...

Johnny





 

Yesterday.. A Veteran from the Korean War arrived at the resort with his ball cap with "Blue with Gold lettering on it, just as I was picking up my clients.

 I walked over and thanked him for his time served and  that I would be proud to carry his bag in.  It only took a minute of my time, considering the time he had spent doing his duty to our country. Isn't it funny how when you approach a person with a extend hand in friendship that the other person smiles, just about every time...no matter what happens from that moment on, they know your someone who cares, 

It doesn't take much to let people know you recognized them for who they are and what they have done. But then again... It can be offered to anyone and it has the same effect on most people doesn't it...

I have no problem with  greeting of the "shoulder bump" but that you can do with your hands still in your pockets... The offering of a extended and open hand has been around for centuries showing to the other person that you are weapon free and are willing to share a "personal contact" if only for a brief second.  Maybe we ought to go back and start using it again and do it more often...

I wish there would come a time and place when we felt comfortable enough with each other to lay down our arms and but I'm afraid that time will never come... But at the same time I feel that those who "Serve to Protect should be recognized not just one day a year but everyday.

They did not go into places unknown to "protect us" just one day a year. They went until the threat was no longer there so that we could be certain that "threat" did not make its way "over here".

Get to Know A Veteran..
Hire A Veteran...
Take Care of a Veteran...
 Recognized Our Veterans... For Who They Are and What They Did for All of Us..

To The Best Of My Recollections

Be it known that my writings regarding events from my childhood are based on MY memory...

It has been brought to my attention that my "memory" which may not be totally accurate or at the best of times have "lapses" reaching out past what would/could be considered by many as "out of the ordinary or "hard to believe", but they are shared with hopeful understanding that they are not meant to be totally accurate nor factual but a story meant to be entertaining.  That is what in many regions as a "Storyteller".

Now if you know Texans, it's a pretty well known that "facts" are based on what the storyteller is trying to get across to the reader...   Very little is "Set In Stone" or "Hard as Concrete" A Texas Storytellers "facts" are kind of like "Texas Caliche" a type of ground surface found throughout the region which sometimes, when it is wet, kind of gets a little slippery...

Thus the same as the "facts" of a Texas Storyteller..

With that in mind my disclaimer is that my stories are besed on "To The Best Of My Recollections" or other wise know as T.T.B.O.M.R.


Thanks for trying to understand me....

Johnny