Here's something that will probably give you all a good laugh.
Flavored Baby Aspirin
Being the youngest of three boys, I caught a lot of crap growing up. I was always the Guiney pig. Over the years Cole, Holden and myself have gotten together and recollected our childhood memories. I had no idea how much danger into which my older brothers actually placed me. It's a miracle I lived.
Momma Cash took good care of her babies. If we were feeling poorly she always had a warm blanket, some Campbell's Soup and a comfy spot near her. She also had a well stocked medicine cabinet that was customized just for raising boys. There was lots of Band-Aids, gauze, monkey-blood...and baby aspirin.
Now this story just came to me fairly recently. I really don't remember it because I was apparently only two or three at the time. After all these years my older brothers STILL have some secrets they haven't let me in on.
Apparently my brother Holden had a taste for the orange-flavored baby aspirin. Anytime he had a boo-boo he always wanted an aspirin as part of Momma Cash's loving treatment. Usually they were kept in the bathroom medicine cabinet. A "hands-off" area that way too high off the floor for any of us to reach. They were usually up there.
Momma Cash had asked Cole to get something out of her purse for her, in the other room. Cole also nabbed a whole brand new bottle of baby aspirin he found in there. First chance they had Cole and Holden disappeared around the corner and gobbled up the goodies. From their recent confession I was able to ascertain Cole only nibbled a few. Holden, on the other hand, took the opportunity to gobble down the rest of the bottle. There was some dissent between the two of them at the deposition as to whom had hidden the evidence, but the empty bottle wound up in the kitchen trash can.
Momma Cash found the bottle. She questioned the two older boys with an urgency that they mistook as anger. Being Cash boys, neither was going to 'fess up to ANYTHING...(not unless you've got video...nosirree..). Momma Cash wanted to know WHO ATE THE ASPIRIN?!!!
I don't hold it against them. I would've probably thrown either one of them under the bus given the circumstances. But I was busy playing on the floor, probably making spit-bubbles and dirtying my drawers...and they both turned and pointed at me and told Momma Cash I had eaten the aspirin.
Like I said, I don't remember it, I was too young. But it was a horrible set of circumstances that followed...
Momma Cash grabbed us all up, commandeered the only neighbor that had a car, and made a mad dash to the clinic (hospitals hadn't been invented yet). She had a baby that had aspirin poisoning!
After sixty years, Holden was almost in tears as he told the story. Cole and he were paralyzed by fear and the trauma of the trip to the clinic. They sat quietly and listened to me gag and puke and scream bloody murder as I was getting my stomach pumped out in the next room. The nurse came out and told them they had done right by telling my mother because too many aspirin can kill you.
Well, they were too far into the lie to come clean. There was only one thing to do for Holden. He was going to have to go home and die from aspirin poisoning. At least the terrible lie would be safe in the grave...
He told me he arranged all his toy trucks against the baseboard for the last time. He gave his ball mitt to Cole. He told Cole that I could have his two-wheeler when I got old enough. He said his prayers and laid his five year old body down for the last time. Good night, cruel world.
The next morning Holden woke up and Cole's nose was an inch from his. Cole asked him if he was alive...apparently he was. They both ran to my folk's room and checked in the crib to see if their little brother was OK. I'm sure I was. He had not only lived, but the Cash boy's world was fine and the sea of life was calm as could be.
We all got a good laugh. Like I said, I can't hold it against him, we were just kids.
Maybe someday I'll have the guts to tell him it was me that swapped the plug wires around on his old Chevy years later. The motor backfired through the carb and that car had a pretty round, burnt paint blister on the hood the rest of its life.
The way I see it, we're probably even. B-)
my youngest brother (I'm the oldest) ate up the same bottle of aspirin as well. I was the one that discovered him with the empty bottle. They pumped his stomach as well. That was circa '68 or '69.
I spent some time in the field today wondering what you should title your collection of stories, which by the way would be a natural for a number of regional presses. I think if you can put together enough pages of the quality you've begun with, you've got a winner to sell to the presently unsuspecting public for fun and profit.
D'yup
Kent is roight! You got da stuff ta rite a book!
An retire doin it!
N
I agree with Kent. You have a nice natural style that reminds me of Jean Shepherd (author,magazine writer, late night radio host).
When I was in HS, I would listen to Jean's show on radio from NYC. He would tell stories from his youth and younger days. They were my bedtimes stories because I had the transistor radio under the covers with that single earpiece between my head and the pillow. Shepherd would be in the studio with a bottle of scotch about 10 miles away in Manhattan just clearing his head with wonderful stories. I and a few friends became fans and had a listening sort of club and of course we read his articles in Playboy.;-)
I also enjoyed your tales last night. :good:
Since we owned the exact same sixties VW model/color and I do enjoy a bottle of Miller more than some 'Craft' beer and your pizza odyssey in the hinterlands, I feel a cyber connection.
Tales from Radio Road
> I think if you can put together enough pages of the quality you've begun with, you've got a winner to sell to the presently unsuspecting public for fun and profit.
The collection is title "Tales from Radio Road". At least that's its title today. In a less refined fashion the manuscript has been rejected by at least three publishers that had juevos enough to send me a rejection letter. I haven't heard from the others, and that's been a few years. A few of the stories I've shared here are included, in some shape or form.
Radio Road is the name of a section line road that my aunt and uncle lived off of. They were older than my parents and their values seemed to shape my parents and my early life. I suspect the road got it's name from an old AM broadcast tower that sat on the intersection of Radio and old Hwy. 66. Radio Road was the mecca of values in my childhood.
I've sold a number of the stories as shorts to a few magazines. I always write under several pseudonyms so you'll never really be able to tell if it's me or not.
If it was funny, it was probably mine...:pinch:
While it's always cool to see your work in print, it's not a profitable venture. I just do it for the fun. Now Radio has no surveying stories. I doubt those will ever see print. As interesting or funny as surveying stories might be, they don't appeal to a large audience. You guys (and gals) are the only ones that actually get to read those.
I'm just happy I get to share them here. Those of you that have worked with me have already heard most of these over the years....
Tales from Radio Road
> The collection is title "Tales from Radio Road". At least that's its title today. In a less refined fashion the manuscript has been rejected by at least three publishers that had juevos enough to send me a rejection letter. I haven't heard from the others, and that's been a few years. A few of the stories I've shared here are included, in some shape or form.
Was University of Oklahoma Press one of the publishers? The Okie regional connection probably needs to be underlined in the title. There is Ensino Press in Texas. I'd send the manuscript to Bill Witliff and ask him to hook you up with a publisher.
Robert
I really appreciate being mentioned in the same breath as Jean Shepherd. I'm sure my hick story telling pales to his talents, though. Wanda Hickey's Night of Dreams was my favorite..but who could forget A Christmas Story!
Shepherd is probably single-handedly responsible for the current value of any Red-Ryder BB gun. I still use the term "fra-gee-lay" in jest.
As for pizza in the boondocks. That's a laugh. When we use to go hunting and camping my oldest son was distraught if we were somewhere that didn't deliver pizza. To him, that was the measure of civilization...do they have pizza? I guess if there is a pizzeria, there is life...
Tales from Radio Road
> While it's always cool to see your work in print, it's not a profitable venture. I just do it for the fun. Now Radio has no surveying stories. I doubt those will ever see print. As interesting or funny as surveying stories might be, they don't appeal to a large audience.
Well, James Herriot figured out how to tell stories from his veterinary practice in rural England. The surveying stories shouldn't be ruled out at all since the real point of many of them isn't most likely some arcane bit of surveying lore, but about a specific time and place and certain recognizable types of people of interest to the reader.
Your stories remind me a great deal of another author I know. His name is Carl Otto. I have signed copies of his first two books, mentioned later. His early life was during the Depression and he served in WWII. He became a high school teacher despite having only a GED as he left high school to join the Army. He put in his college classes over many years. He went on to be a principal and eventually a school district superintendent. His parents moved around quite a bit when he was young thus providing him with a wide range of life experiences. One of his childhood buddies during the time they lived in Norfolk, Nebraska went on to host the Tonight Show for many years. I would encourage you to obtain at least one of his books as a source of inspiration for telling your own stories. Amazon is a source.
His first two books are: “A Sauerkraut Sandwich, A Runny Nose and A Wet Sleeve” and “A Sauerkraut Pancake, A Two-Wheeled Tricycle and Dancing the Cow Slurry Flop.” Each is filled with recollections from his years in education and growing up during the Great Depression and war years.
Carl is one of the most down-to-Earth people I ever met. And, those are the best kind to get to know.
Tales from Radio Road
> Well, James Herriot figured out how to tell stories from his veterinary practice in rural England.
I wonder how using some particular survey-related problem or discussion as the narrative thread that ties all of the vignettes together would work. "Quittin' Time on Radio Road"
"You have a nice natural style that reminds me of Jean Shepherd..."
I was thinking the same thing but with a mix of Patrick McMannus and a hint of Hunter Thompson thrown in for good measure. 😉
Keep posting here. You have an admiring audience.:-)
Paden
Sometimes I feel that it is a shame that the Christmas Story has become a classic because it puts his other work in the shadows. His radio programs were gems. One of the members of our HS Shepherd radio listening club was inspired by him. He went to Fordham and got involved in the campus radio station (WFDU) and had Shepherd as a guest on numerous occasions and got to become acquainted with him. He was a genuine “down to earth’ kind of guy. As a high schooler, I saw him in person with our “club” at “Fairly Ridiculous U”. a few times. Always a good time. He really liked his young audience.
Your mid-western childhood nostalgic soft self-deprecating humor is what reminds me of Shepherd in your stories.
I don't see the McManus connection since his stories are focused in one direction and Thompson was a sports/cultural/political writer who had just gone berserk and popular with the counterculture through his Rolling Stine articles.
Uncle Paden, Your stories remind me of one of my favorite radio story programs on public radio called 'This American Life'. I've been listening for years. When I posted asking about how people got their start surveying, I was hoping I might flush out a gem of a story or two, and you have come through. Thanks for sharing that. Your earlier story of Cody, milk coming out of his ears, really touched me. Thanks.
“I don't see the McManus connection…”
I do and associate the following McManus quotes with him, well, at least in my perception of Unc.
“I am no more incompetent or susceptible to trouble than the average person, no matter what my friends might say.”
And, “The other morning I was staring vacantly out the window, a hobby I personally find more entertaining than, say, stamp collecting or golf.”
With respect to HT, well I’ll just leave that one alone.
😉
Good job, FL/GA, PLS
> “I don't see the McManus connection…”
>
> I do and associate the following McManus quotes with him, well, at least in my perception of Unc.
>
> “I am no more incompetent or susceptible to trouble than the average person, no matter what my friends might say.”
>
> And, “The other morning I was staring vacantly out the window, a hobby I personally find more entertaining than, say, stamp collecting or golf.”
>
> With respect to HT, well I’ll just leave that one alone.
>
> 😉
You're a reader and where would all the writers be without us?
Thumbs up to Paden, obviously, as well. Let me know when you're accepted by Lurid Detective Tales.
Actually, you won't have to tell me. I'm a subscriber:-) That and Thuglit, though both are light on surveying escapades and childhood misadventures.
Don
