The way I am . . .
DON’T ASK me why, but it has come to me that you probably really don’t know me . . .
-- I had to get married and move to town before I knew there was any soap ‘cept Octane Soap . . . or colored whiskey . . . or coffee other than Red Diamond . . . mayonnaise that wasn’t Duke’s . . . frozen biscuits in a tube . . . butter that didn’t come from Grandma’s churn.
-- I hate change . . . have since Henry Ford took the dimmer switch off the floorboard . . . I’ve mentioned that before . . . but I’d still love to know why he did it? . . . and whatever happened to running boards and fender skirts . . . ‘course if you had a flat and had fender skirts your “cussing” would embarrass a Missouri mule.
-- Favorite gospel hymns are “I’ll Fly Away,” “How Great Thou Art,” “Amazing Grace” and “Lily of The Valley” . . . my number one favorite is listening to the Sons of the Pioneers sing “The Touch of God’s Hand.”
MY FAVORITE Bible verse is: Psalm 46:10: “Be Still and Know I am God . . . ” I have a very deep personal reason for that . . . and may share it with you sometime down the road.
-- You can’t eat cantaloupe without black pepper, watermelon without salt, scrambled eggs without mustard, sausage biscuit without mustard, a hot dog without mustard and mayonnaise.
-- I may be the only country boy who has never carried a pocketknife in his pocket.
-- The best soft drink I ever had is a frozen Pepsi in a bottle . . . during the 1940s you could get one for six cents from Bentley’s Grocery in Blue Mountain . . . sit on the steps in the August heat and just sip and enjoy.
-- My paternal grandfather, James Houston Smith, was the one who told me that “Life is too short to mess around with an ugly woman.” . . . I took him at his word and told enough lies to a certain blonde (voted prettiest in our class) to get her in front of a preacher.
MY MATERNAL grandfather, The Rev. George D. Cobb Sr., told me that along the way I would meet up with “pagans and infidels and be careful of them.” . . . he also said something about avoiding temptation.
-- When I was 10 years old I was plowing a mare mule and urging her along using some of the words my dad used when he was plowing the same mare mule . . . when I wasn’t behind that mare mule I had a Bluegrass hammer in my hand helping Dad do carpenter work . . . Dad’s been long gone, but I still have his hammer.
-- When I was 10 years old I wore “Tom Cat” overalls and went barefoot from May 1 ‘til early October.
-- When I was 10 years old my favorite meal was butterbeans, cornbread, cabbage slaw, and cold milk. It still is, but under the eye of a watchful/health-conscience blonde, I don’t get my favorite meal very often . . . like when she’s out of town.
MY SON-and-heir remarked recently “Pop, you don’t ever get far from the old country music do you?” . . . that came when he walked into my barn and I was listening to Merle Haggard’s Are The Good Times Over for Good? . . . the answer, as always, is NO . . . and I wish Garth Brooks and his black outfit would take up ushering at some funeral home . . . I’ve mentioned that to you before . . . and probably will again.
-- The good times? I’m a child of the ‘fifties,’ the best decade of my life . . . jobs were plentiful, there was no war, and it was always springtime wherever I found myself.
-- I was born at a very early age, but not in a manger . . .
Finally, I’m sure you’ve heard this sermon before, but the answer is simple: As we grow old, nothing new ever happens to us and we tend to repeat ourselves . . . especially when it’s in the twilight of a Saturday and you’re a newspaper columnist and really don’t have anything to say . . . period . . . and bye.
George Smith can be reached at 256-239-5286 or email: email@example.com