WORDS, SNIPING, AND BLAME

If we are truthful, we all have said or done things we aren’t proud of.  But if there is one thing I am, it’s truthful.  Having said that, I ain’t no shrinking violet and have been known to put my foot in my mouth a time or two.  I don’t do it because I want to be seen or heard. It’s just the way I roll and I do have a pretty stubborn streak about what’s right and what’s wrong and tend to want everybody to have the same.  I don’t see gray.  It’s black or it’s white.   But that’s another subject for another time.

Recently, there has been a whole lot of finger pointing that has become downright disgusting to me.  Not because I’m a Republican and a whole bunch of other folks, including some friends and family who are not, but because there seems to be an extraordinary amount of people who are ok with the use of profanity and street talk.  I see it in children, young adults, and mature adults.  It slips out when we don’t mean it to and it slips out when we want to make real clear what we are saying, and it slips out because people don’t have enough sense to use a better term.   Now, I know what the word hypocrisy means.  Go back up to the first paragraph.  I’m admitting my transgressions.   “Miss Nell” would be so ashamed and disappointed in me and I know God is.  Once again, go back to the first paragraph.  I am honest. 

When some of us start talking about how people have insulted or offended us because of something that person said, it becomes a pretty lame argument when the people who know us remember some posts, comments, or remarks that we made ourselves.  Have you ever called someone stupid?  Have you ever called them fat?  Have you shared a post that is hateful in its intent?   Do you get angry when you see a post that promotes something you don't agree with?  Do you retaliate with an equally nasty post?  It’s a whole new ballgame then.  So, I guess my point is this:  Not a single one of us is perfect.   Can we stop trying to put out the best “gotcha” post and try to remember that we all fall short.  It serves no purpose to try and get the last word and it serves no purpose in throwing out the “I told you so’s”.  I’m tired of fighting for Donald Trump.  I’m tired of hearing about what a jerk he is and I'm tired of hearing about Hillary Clinton and Bill's past.  I’m tired of seeing and hearing ugly and profane language in my feed and I’m dang sure tired of seeing and hearing some of the junk that is going on and posted on social media that is just flat out false.  I hold no malice against anyone because of their political views.  I hope you’ll hold none against me for mine.   Remember, we're all Americans first.  

And that's all I'm going to say about that!

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 [LT1]

TORNADO OF 1929

Described as "resembling a red, whirling funnel coming up Main Street", a tornado struck in the evening hours of April 25, 1929.  Beginning just south of Macon, it spun wrath on to Cochran, Dexter, Emanuel County, and Bullock County, apparently coming out of nowhere other than clear skies.  The terrible storm took the lives of at least 87 people and injured scores more throughout the middle Georgia area.  34 souls were lost in Statesboro with 70 injured.  19 were taken in Metter, a short distance away with 9 children in one home, 4 children in another and yet 3 in another.  Rain and hail destroyed crops and damaged peach orchards.  My Granny Elkins who was living in that area was spared disaster but as was her custom, she prayed and remembered those who were injured and whose lives were lost.  Following is her account of the devastating tornado in her own words.

THE GEORGIA TORNADO

It was late one April evening, back in nineteen twenty-nine,

A great tornado struck our land, and left a dreadful sign.

All those who saw it coming were filled with terrible fright,

It was like black smoke rolling and followed by a light.

Sometimes it soared higher and then would touch the ground,

It was like a mighty airship and had such roaring sound.

It split great trees into splinters and shattered houses down

The mansions like the cabins were scattered over the ground.

So many were made homeless, not a shelter over their head,

There were many laying wounded, and many laying dead.

It was a bad destruction, just thinking of the cost,

But it did not stop at that, so many lives were lost.

Although it was the work of God, and we should humbly say,

It is He who giveth everything, and He who takes away.

Mary Ella Thigpen Elkins

HUNTING SQUIRRELS AND A COAT OF ARMOR

The best years of my life were those when Sol and I were in our 50’s and 60’s.  Usually, when folks get to that big 50 point in life, they pretty much assume, well, it’s all over.  Not so.  That’s just when life begins for many of us.  How quickly time flies by and you hold only a memory of some friends or family members with whom you experienced some of those life experiences people refer to as, “you have to have been there” to really appreciate.   And you smile with your eyes leaking.

A couple of times stand out in my memory that were so hilarious that you just had to have been there to appreciate.  Sol loved golf.  But, honestly, he wasn’t much good at it.  Fair, at best in the overall picture.  But through the years he did hit some awesome drives and make a few good putts.   Ray said Sol was the only person he ever played golf with that would actually run up to the tee.  I think he really must have had a problem with hyperactivity because he never could just take a stroll anywhere.  He was always in a hurry, which probably explained why he wasn’t the best golfer.  He just had a hard time relaxing those strong muscles!

One year, we were invited to Augusta to my cousin and her husband’s house for the week-end.  The four of us went for out for dinner on Friday evening, and got up the next day ready for a round of golf at West Lake Country Club.    Sollie was so excited.  He couldn’t wait to get out on that beautiful course.  Our foursome was Don and Sollie and Tommie and me.  (She and I just went along pretty much for the ride, but did attempt to play while we caught up on the news.)  The guys mostly walked, and we drove the cart.  Everything was going along pretty much as it should while Sollie would hurry up to tee off and Don would mosey out.  We get along about the 5^th or 6^th hole and Tommie and I see the guys walking on up ahead.  We just kind of waited and chatted while they went on up to their balls.  As we sit there, we notice that they are kind of standing on the left side of the fairway staring down at the grass.  They would shake their heads and walk about in a circle and shake their heads again.  Whatever it was must have been pretty bad, since they weren’t playing their balls.  So, we ride on up and they are gazing at a poor male grey squirrel all sprawled out with all fours up in the air.  Dead as a doornail.  Hit between the eyes by Sollie’s drive.  Tommie and Don were too nice to really laugh much.   They did snicker though.    I laughed until I cried.  Pool squirrel.  As time went on, through the years, Don would tell Sollie that they needed to get together and go squirrel hunting. 

Fast forward a few years later where we were in Santa Rosa Beach with our good friends for the week.  Frankie and I spent the time shopping and Sollie and Ray went to the club to play some golf.  They were only going to play nine holes so we dropped them off with our instructions to come back in a couple of hours.  When we got back to pick them up, Ray staggered up to the car, holding an ice pack over his face and had a golf ball sized lump on his cheek!  He was standing behind Sollie as he drove his ball and it ricocheted back giving Ray a shiner like you wouldn’t believe!  He said, “damn, I need to wear a coat of armor if I ever play golf with Sollie again!” After that day, he was very careful where he stood when playing golf with Sol. But play they did.  Many times, many years, and many laughs.

Yep, those years when we were empty nesters, retirement hopeful and enjoying being together with friends and family were indeed the best years of our lives!