I have not written for a while because my dad passed away on February 3, and my mother fell on March 9 and broke the femur in her right leg and has developed pneumonia in rehab. However, many thoughts have flooded my mind over these past weeks, mostly having to do with my upbringing. If I could imagine what the world was like when they were born in 1917, I would think of simple times. Both of them came from farming families, scratching out a living on the plains of West Texas. I have not only seen photos of my family resembling the Grapes of Wrath, but I remember it vividly. My dad used to say; "I was so poor, I couldn't pay attention." That play on words delighted them both. They used spoonerisms (example: meck of a hess) so much that late in life they grew to think that was correct pronunciation.
Times were hard, but life was simple. The worst crime in my little hometown was bootlegging. All of the western counties were dry, meaning a prohibition of the sale of alcoholic beverage. They said: "The Baptists and the bootleggers keep it dry." About the only thing they agreed on. People never locked their doors and slept with their windows open in the summer. Children could sleep outside without fear of much more than mosquitos.
We did not have TV and not many people had a telephone. We could not even conceive of an apparatus such as computer or internet. I was born only six years after the rampage of Bonnie and Clyde and only twenty years removed when I was in high school. Even if we had the 9 cents to see a movie, it was against our religion. Hollywood was full of floozies and my parents didn't want me to be exposed to such "trash."
The Puritan work ethic was practiced, although we didn't know what it was called. My grandpa just said: "If you don't work, you don't eat." Everything, except the churches, was closed on Sunday. People literally prepared for it on Saturday when most of the shopping was done. Sunday afternoon was my favorite time, because families got together for chicken dinner and I could get with my cousins and get into mischief, our only form of entertaiment. I remember throwing rocks at my Uncle Oscar's metal warehouse, knowing he was inside. I did not have a chance to apologize for it, but I think it was accepted as a boyish prank.
We had never heard of drug abuse or abortion or any such thing. We went to the football game on Friday night and to church on Sunday, where we used the outhouse and got a drink of water from an outside faucet. Today, we have modern facilities and air conditioned places of worship, but we also are addicted to iphones and live in such chaos, I doubt we know the meaning of the word simple.
Simple is peaceful. Simple is nice. I wish I could have simple again - along with my conveniences.
Times were hard, but life was simple. The worst crime in my little hometown was bootlegging. All of the western counties were dry, meaning a prohibition of the sale of alcoholic beverage. They said: "The Baptists and the bootleggers keep it dry." About the only thing they agreed on. People never locked their doors and slept with their windows open in the summer. Children could sleep outside without fear of much more than mosquitos.
We did not have TV and not many people had a telephone. We could not even conceive of an apparatus such as computer or internet. I was born only six years after the rampage of Bonnie and Clyde and only twenty years removed when I was in high school. Even if we had the 9 cents to see a movie, it was against our religion. Hollywood was full of floozies and my parents didn't want me to be exposed to such "trash."
The Puritan work ethic was practiced, although we didn't know what it was called. My grandpa just said: "If you don't work, you don't eat." Everything, except the churches, was closed on Sunday. People literally prepared for it on Saturday when most of the shopping was done. Sunday afternoon was my favorite time, because families got together for chicken dinner and I could get with my cousins and get into mischief, our only form of entertaiment. I remember throwing rocks at my Uncle Oscar's metal warehouse, knowing he was inside. I did not have a chance to apologize for it, but I think it was accepted as a boyish prank.
We had never heard of drug abuse or abortion or any such thing. We went to the football game on Friday night and to church on Sunday, where we used the outhouse and got a drink of water from an outside faucet. Today, we have modern facilities and air conditioned places of worship, but we also are addicted to iphones and live in such chaos, I doubt we know the meaning of the word simple.
Simple is peaceful. Simple is nice. I wish I could have simple again - along with my conveniences.
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