2nd Wind, April 2003

"Worrying is less work than doing something to fix the worry. Everybody wants to save the earth; nobody wants to help Mom with the dishes."   -P. J. O'Rourke-

Strangers are friends just waiting to happen.

"If you can laugh at it, you can live with it."    -Erma Bombeck-

I am glad to say goodbye to March. This month I've lost four good friends... ....all 2nd Wind readers, among them my lifelong best friend, Elizabeth. She was the last of the four people for whom 2nd Wind was born. Also, I've been battling another infection with its resulting round of antibiotics. I've had big vet bills, huge dentist bills, a furnace repair and shrinking assets, not to mention being besieged with war news. Now, having listed all that, I have high hopes for April, which has always been a special month for us.

You'll have to admit that my parents' marriage in April was an important event for me. Our own wedding was 68 years ago on an April Easter Sunday. There are three other April wedding anniversaries and four April birthdays in the family. I'll overlook the fact both income tax and property tax are due this month. I expect good things in spite of that.

In addition to all my other gripes with March, it didn't produce any news, so I'll just have to ramble...in other words, do what comes naturally.

Wild Man is Beth's youngest cat...not so young any more. As his name implies, he has spent his entire life in wide eyed fear. Originally, after several days of fruitless search for a wailing kitten, a nightie clad Beth, out in the dark and the rain, finally caught him in a trap baited with tuna. In the years since, he has come in for meals and occasionally joins the family, but tends to be out and about, UNTIL he recently found his life's mission...head of Homeland Security. There are two "available" cats who have been trying to join our cat commune.  One has been insistent to the point of actually going into Beth's house. This greatly offended Wild Man, although he spends little indoor time himself. He has become the self-appointed sentry, trying to guard both the cat door at the back of the house and the bathroom window at the side. It is a tremendous responsibility and is wearing him down, but he now has self pride and a sense of accomplishment.  It is good to see.

I started reminiscing the other day about my high school days (1920's) in McCloud, CA (Reminiscing is about as energetic as I get these days).

The little town sat at the foot of Mt. Shasta, in beautifully wooded country. To give you some idea of the size of the town, our graduating class had 23 students. The sidewalks were wooden and an entire block of houses would be identical. The workingmen lived in one story houses, down on the flat land. The bosses and executives had two story houses on "The Hill." The McCloud River Lumber Co. owned everything; the dwellings, the school buildings, the churches, the hospital, the theater, the Post Office building, the cafeteria, the hotel, the boarding houses and the company store. I never hear Ernest Tubb's "Sixteen Tons" without thinking of McCloud. The company store was the first department store I had ever seen, as well as the only store in town.  Under its roof you could buy groceries, produce, meat, hardware, linens, furniture, pharmaceuticals and clothing, as well as relax at the soda fountain. Our house was across the street from the boarding house where the single lumbermen lived. In my memory, it seems to me there were thirty to fifty living there.  Yet, we girls would walk home alone at night from parties and no one thought of danger.

I particularly remember Eddie Dodwell.  His father was a rugged Scotsman and his mother a little old maid piano teacher, except she was a married "old maid." They were not young parents. Eddie was their only child. He wore thick glasses and was stoop-shouldered, perhaps from peering down to see where to safely put his feet. While the other boys wore sweaters and dirty cords, Eddie came to school in a suit, white shirt and a tie.... with hair slicked down in Rudolph Valentino perfection. Eddie did not have all his marbles or maybe they just needed to be rearranged. But Eddie could really play the piano.

One day, Rosalie and I were walking to school with Eddie trudging along behind us. We actually walked to school those days. (Only one student drove to school. She had a brand new car, a birthday gift from Wm. Randolph Hearst, but that's another story). A truck drove slowly past and on the truck bed was an outhouse. Now those were the days when young girls didn't want to admit they had bodily functions, so Rosalie and I were greatly embarrassed to have this evidence right there on the street. Eddie, behind us, recognized a conversational opening and called out to us,  "They're moving a lot of houses lately, aren't they?"

I heard in later years, after his parents were gone, that Eddie lived in the company hotel and played the piano when needed at town social occasions. I can't imagine he had any money, so I wonder if it was a case of a small town taking care of its own.

Yesterday I received a note from Jean, one of the "kids" who were part of our life when Pat was in high school. Accompanying some stamp money for 2nd Wind, she wrote, "Here is my vote of confidence in your durability." She was taking a chance, all right, but so far, so good. Will the rest of you also attempt to stick around awhile? I'd hate to lose any more readers. You may think I just slap on labels, but as I do each one, I visualize the person and wonder if all is well for him or her. So take care, if only to keep me happy.

            Blessings,    Darlys
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I received the following from Laurie, a mother of four.
"In this life I am a woman. In my next life I'd like to come back as a bear.
-----When you're a bear you get to hibernate. You do nothing but sleep for six months.  I could deal with that.
-----Before you hibernate, you're supposed to eat yourself stupid.  I could deal with that, too.
-----When you're a girl bear you birth your children (who are the size of walnuts) while you're sleeping and wake up to grown, cute cuddly cubs.  I could deal with that.
-----If you're a mama bear everyone knows you mean business. You swat anyone who bothers your cubs. If your cubs get out of line you swat them, too.  I could deal with that.
-----If you're a bear your mate EXPECTS you to wake up growling. He EXPECTS you will have hairy legs and excess body fat.
Yup.....gonna be a bear."

As a man was getting into the shower and his wife had just finished hers, the doorbell rang. After a few seconds of arguing over which one should go to the door, the wife gave up, quickly wrapped herself in a towel and ran downstairs. When she opened the door, there stood Bob, the next door neighbor. Before she could say a word, Bob said, "I'll give you 800 dollars to drop that towel you're wearing." The wife hesitated briefly, but the temptation was too great. She dropped the towel and Bob handed her 800 dollars, already counted out, and left.  Confused, but excited about her good fortune, the woman re-wrapped the towel and went back upstairs. When she got back to the bathroom, her husband called from the shower, "Who was that?"  She replied, "It was Bob, the next door neighbor."  "Great," the husband said, "Did he say anything about the $800 he owes me?"

The photographer for a national magazine was assigned to get photos of a massive forest fire. Smoke at the scene was too thick to get any good shots so he frantically called his home office to hire a plane. "It will be waiting for you at the airport," he was assured by his editor. As soon as he got to the small rural airport, sure enough, a plane was warming up near the runway. He jumped in with his equipment and yelled, "Let's go. Let's go." The pilot swung the plane into the wind and soon they were in the air, "Fly over the north side of the fire," said the photographer,  "and make three or four low level passes."  "Why?" asked the pilot. "Because I'm going to take pictures! I'm a photographer and photographers take pictures." was the impatient and exasperated answer. After a long pause, the pilot said, "You mean you're not the flight instructor?"