So, lately I've been somewhere or seen something or talked with somebody about something that took me back to my childhood.
First, the new school brings all the school buses back to the highways. And, it takes me back to when I used to ride Marengo County School Bus No. 22. Yeah, you guessed it, I'm old and so was my bus. The bus driver was Coach Washington. He picked me up at about 6:05 AM. I was usually the first to get on even though my stop was second or third along the way. But, that also meant I was among the first to get off. I was usually home by 3:30 in the afternoons. Coach Washington was awesome. He was a heavy black guy that had been a basketball coach at some point in his career. He came complete with a constant piece of drool on his lip. That reminds me of my 15 month old.
The second bit from childhood came when the family was eating at the Pita Hut a couple of weeks ago. A kid came in and tried to sell us some doughnuts on behalf of his "church". Out of pity, we helped him out, but told him to give the doughnuts to somebody else. I pitied the poor fellow because I remember selling doughnuts. The great thing about selling doughnuts where I lived though is that KrispyKreme was a special treat because there wasn't a KK store there and they weren't being sold in the grocery stores like they are now. Yeah, I'm both ancient and country. But, oh the misery of rejection when you attempt to sell something. And, oh the pain of having to deliver the tons of stuff that you've sold if you do make lots of sales. Fundraisers are a double edged sword. So, mamas don't make your babies grow up to be salesmen.
And, the next memory came when I was talking to somebody about Saturday morning cartoons. I got my fair share when I was little, but the minute my dad thought I was useful for anything (even holding his hammer), he took my Saturday mornings and turned them into opportunities to make money. We either went to my grandmothers to do stuff (like cut hay, rake hay, bale and stack hay, fix pasture fences, look for the cows - if they got out of the pasture, chase the cows into the catch pen - so we could haul them away and sell them for you your steak or hamburger, feed the cows hay or feed, pull corn, shell peas, pull watermelons, collect eggs from the chicken). Okay you get the picture. My grandma lived on a cattle farm and my dad made me work on Saturdays. And, if it wasn't working there, it was cutting grass. So, guess what I'm buying a farm and a riding lawn mower. Caleb's going to be working soon. That way, he can be a great guy like his dad. Yes, I can be vain. :o)
Much love
The second bit from childhood came when the family was eating at the Pita Hut a couple of weeks ago. A kid came in and tried to sell us some doughnuts on behalf of his "church". Out of pity, we helped him out, but told him to give the doughnuts to somebody else. I pitied the poor fellow because I remember selling doughnuts. The great thing about selling doughnuts where I lived though is that KrispyKreme was a special treat because there wasn't a KK store there and they weren't being sold in the grocery stores like they are now. Yeah, I'm both ancient and country. But, oh the misery of rejection when you attempt to sell something. And, oh the pain of having to deliver the tons of stuff that you've sold if you do make lots of sales. Fundraisers are a double edged sword. So, mamas don't make your babies grow up to be salesmen.
