Saluda Lifestyles - October Article

MY DAUGHTER, THE VIKING QUEEN

Our second daughter, who is now in her forties, was always an unique
child. She was so cute...black hair and a big smile. People often
mistook her to be a cute Eskimo.

Although she wasn't a fat baby, she was heavy. My wife and I would
laugh when people would try to pick her up. They really had to
strain. We just said she was "big boned".

When she went to school, she was taller than kids her age. She was
relatively thin during most of high school and college. But still the
scales weighed her heavy.

She is quite the sportswoman....swimming, volleyball, soccer. But it
plaqued her that she was always overweight. She would diet, but with
little longterm success.

The last time she visited us, she quite seriously confessed to me: "I
think I am a Viking. I am sure my DNA would prove it."

She pointed out that she had more than a dozen aunts and cousins who
were more than 6 feet tall. She was sure their DNA would show them to
be Vikings as well.

"I'm not getting on the scales any more," she told me. "I'm
concentrating on being healthy and happy. I'm going to be a Viking
Queen."

I told her I thought that was a great idea. "Just don't start wearing
a horned hat like
the Vikings did."

She now swims every day, training for the Senior Olympics. When she
is old enough, she wants to be ready. And if they call her a Viking
Queen, she will be happy.

If you see a tall woman paddling a kayak on Lake Sheila (and if she is
wearing a Viking hat), it is probably her. Especially if she has her
volleyball team with her or
her cousins. They're all Viking Queens.

Listen to Your Elders.

Chances are good that they are over-medicated. They may sound a
little crazy but.then again, they may just be speaking the truth. I
would advise you to listen to them, and not necessarily to the doctors
or nurses.

My dear mother in law was in a nursing home for nearly 8 years. When I
would go visit, she sometimes had stories to tell me of things that
she saw on TV. One day she wanted me to guess who she had seen the
night before. I guessed
"Perry Como." She loved Perry. But she said, "No, not Perry. I saw
Celeste Holme
on Batman. She was Catwoman."

"Are you sure it was Celeste? Maybe she was dressed like a Nun. She
played a Nun
often," I suggested.

"NO. She was Catwoman...and a fierce one at that."

I should be ashamed to say that I laughed out loud.But she just told
me to look it up in the TV Guide. I told her you couldn't believe
everything in the newspaper. buy she assured me she had seen it with
her own eyes. The nurse said she had been taking El Dopo, a medicine
that gave patients hallucinations and I let it drop.

But when I got home, I told my wife and we had a good laugh about it.

"Was Bing Crosby in the movie?" my wife wanted to know. I should have
asked her.

The TV Guide was nearby and I didn't even have to look up last night's
listings. There was a four-color photo on the cover of
Celeste...=dressed as The Catwoman.

"Oh my God," I exclaimed. "I tried to convince your Mother that she
was a little dopey
to ever think that Celeste would be Batman's enemy. Of course, she
was known for
taking any part at that time in her life. I would have bet good money
that she was dead."

Well, now she IS dead. Thirty six years later. My Mother-in Law has
passed a long time ago so I can't really apologize to her. I am sure
she is in Heaven yelling down at me, "You SOB. I told you she was
Catwoman."

Saluda Lifestyle Article, July

13 FOOT ALLIGATOR BIG AS A TRUNK

The Critter Management patrol on Hilton Head Island captured a 13 foot
long alligator
that could easily be a trunk if somebody put handles on him. He had
been harassing tourists and residents for a long time and was
consideered The Loch Ness
Monster of Hilton Head. After chasing him relentlessly for days, the
patrol finally captured him. He had to be "put down" because he had
become such a dangerous
pest.

"How dangerous?", you may ask. Just check all the stuff they found
inside of him
when they did the autopsy.

First of all they found another entire alligator inside...4 feet long
and he was apparently being held for a later feast. It was like those
carved wooden Russian
dolls whee one is inside another. A good idea for a tourist trinket.

Then there was one undigested tennis shoe...no foot inside. The
alligator was probably hoping to get three more shoes or three more
feet. In spite of signs warning people not to feed the alligators,
some people still dangle their feet in the
lagoons while fishing.
They are perfect bait for alligators.

They also found about 50 pounds of lead sinkers, dozens of fishing
hooks including
lines.

He must have been a sports fan because they found a couple of tennis
balls, two baseballs, some unidentified partially digested balls...and
a beer can. They also found nearly 50 rocks of various kinds as well
as two whole turtles which are surely
difficult to digest.

You can imagine what that alligator might have swalled that he could
easily digest...so keep your feet ou of the creek.

Saluda Lifestyles - May Essay

WE ARE BEING INVADED

Down here in the Low Country of South Carolina, we are being
invaded by nasty critters. They arent aliens from outer space. They
are wild hogs, coyotes and armadillos. Now they are headed your
way......toward Saluda. The wild hogs and coyotes at least, but not
the armadillos. The armadillos are headed north but they are staying
close to the shoreline. (If they make it to New York, I'm sure some
designer will say "Cute purse" and armadillo purses will be the next
fashion statement.)

South Carolina has declared a special hunting season to clear out
these pesky invaders.

Now they might have to add Turkeys to the list.

A woman in North Carolina was housebound for days by a 45 pound
turkey that was stalking her. She couldn't even get out to get to her
car without the bird chasing her. She finally called a friend of hers
but when he came over in his car, the turkey wouldn't let him get out.
Stalked him as well.

Critter management people suggested the woman should get a big
umbrella, open it and approach the turkey. I think the idea was for
her to diguise herself as a bigger turkey.

I'm not sure how the whole thing turned out but there have been
reports of a large turkey carrying an umbrella out by Lake Sheila. He
has painted it like the NBC logo....trying to make people think he's a
peacock.

We had a huge turkey here on Hilton Head Island.....he wandered
around on a green and shady medium on a busy highway. He was there
for days. Nobody dared approached him. But finally one night he
disappeared. Someone saw him getting into a van with a dozen
Mexicans. He's probably a burrito by now.

April Lifestyles

February Lifestyle Artic;e

ARE BLACKBIRDS SMARTER THAN A FIFTH GRADER?

They are very smart birds. They speak two languages. Really. They
have one dialect that warns their friends of impending danger. It is
very noisyl
The other one is quieter and they use this
one in everyday conversation with their friends.

My wife hates blackbirds. Sne says they intimadate other birds,
especially smaller ones.
She also hatest the noise. But I'm deaf so the noise doesn't bother
me at all. I think the blackbirds remind her of a Alfred Hitchcok
movie

They hardly ever travel alone. If you see one blackbird, you can be
fairly certain that one
or more are nearby. I have a beautifully illustrated book that claims
you can tell the future
by how many blackbirds you see in your yard. One bird forecasts a
death to come. I think that's right. Two means something
else...three something else. Fortune tellers probably use the book
for reading your fortune. I don't put much stock in the book actually

I don't think my wife likes the idea of birds that are smarter than
her grandchildren.

Apparently there are more 50 species of the common blackbird.
Goodness knows how you tell the difference. They are all black. I
know they come in different sizes. But they all strut the same way.
I love to watch them wallk across the yard. And , my wife is
right...they hog the birdfeeder and make smaller birds get out of the
way. It is a dog eat dog world, as they say.

saluda lifestyles...november 2011

HE THINKS HE IS A RESURRECTION FERN.

     Here in the Lowcountry of S.C., we have some wonderful subtropical plants.  One of my favorites is the resurrection fern.  It grows along the branches of Live Oak trees (also a favorite of mine).  It is almost impossible to kill a resurrection fern.  During dry spells, it turns from green to brown and shrivels up....looks dead.  But if it rains or if the air gets humid...the fern greens up and comes back to life.

 

     I just spent nearly three months in a rehab facility...as I was checking in, they wanted to know if I wanted to be resuscitated.  But I told them "no, I only want to die once, so don't bring me back.  But make sure I am really dead.  I am a shallow breather so sometimes I just look and sound dead.  Put a mirror under my nose before you send me off to the crematory."  They laughed, but I was serious.

 

     There was a younger man standing there and he started talking to me.  He looked like he had just washed up on the beach...had on a Cuban wedding shirt and designer jeans.  He started giving me medical talk and I asked, "Who are you?  A surfer?".  He tried to convince me that he was the main doctor for the

rehab but I told him he didn't look like a doctor and that I would have to see his

certificates.  He said they were back in his office on the wall but I told him. 
Not good enough.  I need to see them."

 

     They took me to my room then.  The guy came by later...told me to drop my pants.  I said, "Drop yours first."  He said, "I'm the doctor!"  And I said, "So you say."

 

     This is a wonderful but old rehab hospital.  The beds looked like they were left over from the Civil War.  Some of the nurses did, too.  And all the patients looked

leftovers.  Except for the physical therapists.  They really know their stuff.  My wife had warned them that I would try to weasel out from anything too strenuous, so they were on to me..  I tried to get out of therapy on Saturday by telling them I was a 7th Day Adventist and it was my Holy Day. (They gave you a banana if you attended church service on Sundays.  I went once, but I wasn't that desperate for a banana.Besides, my family members brought me cheeseburgers and milkshakes when they came .... that is until the dietitian caught them and said she would have to strip search them if they didn't stop..  Actually I lost more than 50 pounds on the rehab food.)

 

     They wanted to know what my goals were.  I told them I wanted to be on Dancing with the Stars, that I wanted to find my goat and I wanted to  be able

to attend my granddaughter's wedding.

     Carol came almost every day...one day she brought her WD40 and was under the bed when the nurse came in.  I explained that my wife was changing my oil.  Carol said it was me that was squeaking and not the bed.

 

     My daughter Laura said the dietitian had bought a new cookbook since the 50s...we had a lot of tuna noodle casserole which I tried to trade for a hot dog.

Speaking of dogs, they were allowed to come visit if they had their shots and brougjht proof...so when my friend Elwyn came to visit, Tallulah (his poodle) came in with him.  She was a hit...my room was filled

with visitors, all trying to pet her.

 

     Actually the Surfer was the doctor.  He saved my life at least twice...once when I got hundreds of bloodclots in my legs.  I decided to change doctors and keep this one when I got out of The Home.  Carol didn't like him much because he called her "babe".  I tried to explain that Cuban men think every woman is a babe but she wants to be called Mrs. Babe.  When I was ready to get out of the rehab place, we made an appointment for the docotor's office.  He said to bring a live chicken...preferably a white rooster and to come after dark.  I have to admit that it is a little strange....it's the first time I've had to go to a doctor and bring a live chicken.

DO, SI, DO......SWING YOUR PARTNER.

     I was so happy to hear about the square dance over at Jamboree.  And about the free lessons.  
Even if you think you can square dance, I would advise taking the lessons...especially you guys.  It's not as easy as it looks.

 

     Years ago when my parents were first married, they ran a square dance place.  It was a covered pavillion by a lake.  
They only operated it on Friday and Saturday nights.  Mp Sunday dancing unless you were shouting and dancing i.  n church.

My Father was the caller and everyone claimed he was good.  My Mother loved to dance and she usually had no trouble finding a partner since she has heavy in the bosom.  My Father made more money selling Moonshine than from selling tickets for square dancing.  Lots

of guys would never get on the dance floor without a few swigs of home brew.  
But that's why you need those free lessons.

 

     Square dancing is fun...even if you don't know how.  But it's dangererous, too.  I would recommend two things for guys:

 

1.  Don't wear a felt or straw cowboy hat.  You might look good but they are very little protection when you are ready ro dance roward and bow to your partner.  i got a huge knot on my head bowing (or butting) to my partner.  She and I were both over enthusiastic.  She didn't get a knot...I think her bangs\

saved her.

 

2.  Wear a motorcyle helmet.

 

I have had two big square dance parties where we hired a square dance club to give lessons and a professional caller to send us around the floor.  My wife said no one would like it, but everyone who didn't get knots on their heads had a great time.

 

For a corporate party, we rented a big barn that had been built just for square dances.  One of my fondest and funniest memories was from the dance.  A guy who worked for me came and brought his wife who really didn't get out a lot (or drink a lot).  The two of them were in our group.  
After dancing for a while, we would have a rest and more instructions.  At one of the rest breaks,

my friend's wife sat down on an open window to have a cigarette.  No one else noticed but me, but

she fell out of the window backwards.  It wasn't a big fall; I saw her legs sticking up in the air but then

they disappeared.

 

When the music started, my friend turned to where his wife had been,  He was surprised that she was not there.  Then he looked to his left...no wife....then he looked on the floor...then he looked up on the ceiling.  I was laughing the whole time and pointing out the windown..  At that point, she was  getting\

herself up obviously wondering where she was and he was saying, " What are you doing out there."

 

I don't think she is coming to the Jamboree Dance.  In fact, I don't think she has ever square danced

again.

 

But you can grab a partner and do-si-do.