Thursday, April 16, 2015

MUSING DOG….. IN GERMANTOWN



Photo by Kindell Brinay Moore

I'm being "dog-sat,"
    Ever heard of it?

Well,  it's tough, having
    my Master gone...
You see---she is the best person
    in this whole wide world---

Reckon I'd die without her.

My sitter is okay...she's nice.
    She is a photographer
Problem is, she follows me around
    all time, with a camera...
Has that ever happened to you?

It gets a little old.

I'm here on the balcony, meditating
    and musing,
Looking out there at the city
    of Nashville, where the country
and cowboy singers live---they
    even wear hats indoors
at concerts and dinners...why, I
     haven't figured out yet.

Why they're here and not out west
     at Santa Fe, Tombstone,
          or Pahrump, I'll never
               know.

When you hear snippets of the evening
      news broadcasts, you realize
            that it is a convoluted
                world out there...

I reckon most dogs are nicer than a
    lot of people; oh, now and
         then we hear of a bad dog
              I'm sorry to admit.

People'd probably be happier if they
     had tails
          they could wag.
******************
BY MIL
4/11/15
(Germantown is a division of Nashville,
Tennessee. Interesting to read its history.)

I SAW THE GLOCKENSPIEL



I saw the Glockenspiel
by Richard Drake, guest writer
In 1974 my company sent me to Munich, Germany on a short assignment to serve in a consulting role to the Messerschmitt (MBB) firm.  My company, Martin Marietta, had teamed with MBB to compete for the European Space Lab Program which was to be part of the International Space Station. I was traveling alone and spoke no German. The TV programs were in German, as were all of the newspapers, so I some trouble filling in my spare time in the off hours.  My main item of entertainment was finding restaurants in which to eat.  I drove into the outlying communities looking for small eateries. I had been told that was where to find good food.  When I found one, I would walk up to the bartender and ask if anyone could speak English. There was always someone who could help me either the owner or one of the patrons.  Fortunately, it was at the height of the cold war and the Germans liked Americans.
One evening I looked out of the window of my hotel and noticed a sign for a small downstairs cafĂ© across the street. Not wanting to drive on the icy streets, I decided to try it. I walked up to the tall young man behind the bar and asked my standard question. As it turned out, he spoke English, as well, if not better than I. I told him I was alone and would like to have dinner.  With a big smile, he asked if I would like to have the table with a “view”. I did not understand the question because we were in basement.  I replied “yes’ and he led me up a short flight of stairs to a small dining area.  He led me to at a table for one and said “enjoy the view”.  Directly in front of me was a table occupied by six of the most beautiful women that I had ever seen in person. I later learned that my hotel was in Schwabing, a part of the Munich area which was the home of the film industry in Europe. The girls were young starlets out on a girl’s night out. Needless to say, the young man received a very large tip. In addition the waiter was a very good conversationalist.  He told me that he vacationed each winter in the States. He kept me supplied with wine.
My hotel was a Holiday Inn.  When planning my trip I had told our booking agent to find me a room at a local Holiday Inn so I knew what kind of accommodations I could expect. My plan was to find a better place to stay once I found my way around and had time to seek advice from the people at MBB. As it turned out that the Holiday Inn was considered to be the luxury hotel in Munich at the time. It had been built for the 1972 Olympics. It had a restaurant, the Yellow Submarine, which was built around a two story aquarium water tank.  Tables sat right against the glass panels through which one could see all of the sea life swimming around.  The big sharks would come right up to the glass and stare at you.  It was scary.
The Christmas season was in full swing.  Next door to my hotel was one of the largest and newest shopping malls in Germany. It had numerous food courts and bars. I loved window shopping and buying gifts for my family to take home with me. I am a great people watcher and thoroughly enjoyed myself. I normally would sit at a table and, when approached by the waiter, I used the little German that I knew “Eine bier, Bitte”. I think it meant “one beer, please”. It always worked. I would sit, enjoy my beer and watch the people as they walked pass. 
On a Saturday I took the subway to downtown Munich to Marienplatz, which is the center of Munich.  I walked all over the place. All of the shops were full of Christmas shoppers so I was able to do a lot of my shopping. On each street corner there were women with what looked like popcorn machines.  They were all shouting “Maronni, Maronni”. I decided to try the Marrroni. It turned out that they were roasted chestnuts.  Delicious. 
As I walked enjoying the view of the old City Hall Bell Tower when the second floor balcony seem to explode with ringing bells.  Brightly painted figurines, jesters, kings and queens on a merry go round. There were knights jousting from horseback, clowns dancing and you name it. On another level above the first one were more of the characters. I just stood there in the falling snow eating my chestnuts. I was mesmerized. After the performance I was told that it would happen again in two hours. I came back for a later performance.
I had stumbled across the Glockenspiel. I had heard of it before but had no idea what it was. Life is always full of pleasant surprises.  All you have to do is walk around and look.


OUR BIRDS CAME BACK


"Our birds..."
    the finches, chickadees, nuthatches,
         and plain old sparrows,

and those tiny un-named ones...
    (my wife loves)
         that have orange feather-dos
right on the tops of their little
    heads---

Then---the big plump white-wing doves
    with that beautiful white feather
         strip under each folded wing!
(So carefully and artistically
    placed there, by the Creator...)

Well, "our birds" are strange ones, it
     sometimes seems...they can
          be...unpredictable,
               nervous, jerky, fidgety,
 "a-mind-of-their-own" type birds at times.

When we added the ornate bars to their
   window, where I write and watch
        them daily, I said to the editor---
           (proud of my bird knowledge
                and vast insights into
                     their habits and ways---)

"These birds. I know 'em and I've watched
    'em, they are jumpy about any
        changes around their feeder---
          read that---'anything new!' "

"At least for a week," I said.

I was wrong!  We built the ornate bars over
    the window...

AND THEY CAME...WITH BIRD RELATIVES,
     BIRD FRIENDS AND BIRDS OF THE
            NEIGHBORHOOD!

THEY love the iron...THEY feel the security.

It was the very next day--- they all came back...
    the little birds, the sparrows,
         the doves---all of them

I am watching them now...some sitting on
    the bars...some eating grain...
        and tho' I can't hear thru the
             glass...some seem to
                    be singing.
**************
BY MIL
April 8, 2015



Thursday, April 2, 2015

HAPPY BIRTHDAY……ROBERT STEBBINS!



ROBERT, and CALVIN, his dad, 1942
         Clovis, N.M. Train Depot


Barely a week ago on March 25, one of our
favorite classmates of the CLovis High School
Class of 1951, Robert Stebbins,  had a birthday.
Born in 1933...it was his 82nd.

Except for about three years, when he lived with
his aunt in Ohio while his dad went off to the
Pacific war, Robert grew up with all the rest of
the CHS 51 kids...going to the Lyceum on 
Saturday afternoons, getting ham salad sandwiches
at Woolworths, and eating those great hot dogs
at the Coney Island Cafe.

When the Stebbins family bought the Magic Steam
Laundry, 417 West Grand, from my dad on August 
15, 1945, Robert went to work there---doing
laundry jobs---sweeping, cleaning, and eventually
delivering laundry. (I, in turn, left laundry work and  
became a tractor driver.)

I remember being in Boys Debating Club with Robert,
but didn't see him that much---he was a team manager
for Wildcat teams, and it kept him very busy!

It is interesting to study that historic class of '51 photo,
made on the front steps of the beloved old high school
building. It was likely taken early spring '51 so as to be in
the yearbook. If you look closely, you will see Robert,
toward the back right, wearing his "C" sweater!

He has an interesting bio after CHS graduation, when 
most of us lost contact with each other...and tackled
life "head on," as they say...

----USMC 1952-1955, California, Japan, and Albuquerque
----1955-1959 University of New Mexico 
----1959- 1960 Lytle Corporation, Quality Control Inspector
----1960- 1988 U.S. Department of State, 25 years overseas
          in the Foreign Service
--- 1989 - 1993 U.S. Immigration and Naturalization Service
       (part-time) California
 ---1993-2003 - U.S. Department of State (part-time contractor)
         Colombia, Ecuador, Taiwan

----1933- 2003 "WHERE DID THESE SEVENTY YEARS GO?"

"Now, we're happily retired and living two miles from the ocean about 
25 miles north of San Diego. In a nutshell, that's it."
*************
I have been grateful to Robert for his enthusiastic and continuing
interest in and support of MIL'S PLACE! The fourth anniversary
of MIL'S was yesterday, March 31, 2011. 

Robert has contributed a number of well-written pieces to MIL'S
and loves Clovis history more than anyone I know, (along with
Bobby Joe Snipes.) Robert has ever been an encouragement
with ideas for pieces about our old home town, and thus came
stories about "MR. ELMS," "DORA RUSSELL," "CONEY ISLAND
HOT DOGS," and others which Robert suggested.

His story ("MY DAD,") about saying goodbye to his dad at the
Clovis train depot, has always been one of my favorites!


Again, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BOB, and many more, from all your
friends, and CHS '51 classmates! 
**************



BY MIL

April 1, 2015

Thursday, March 26, 2015

WHERE DOES HE KEEP HIS STUFF?



Everyone knows,
    don't they...

That the main purpose
    in life

is to work hard,
     save up
          and get STUFF!

The more STUFF---
     The more happiness----
           Right?

There are, it is said...
    people with several
          domiciles...

And all have STUFF at each...
    How happy they must be!

Ah, but some folks
    like to travel
         as our Eskimo friend...

Footloose and fancy free....
     If he has any STUFF
          it is in an ice house
               somewhere

and might melt...or drift off...
     with his wife in it...

Maybe we should envy him....
    He has no taxes, no bills,
         No house payment....
             No sled or dog
                  payments....

He has no freezer full of beef
    in his garage....

His wife has no fifty dollar haircuts,
     manicures, pedicures, 
          massages....

Comcast does not get half his earnings,
     (to their chagrin, I'm sure)
            whatever they might be...

There are no annual AAA bills 
     for sleds and dogs 
         are not covered.

But I'll bet he does get cold feet!
    Well, so do we, don't we!?

Hmmm, I might just take BE,
    go north, and try 
         that life for a
             spell....

Look like a lotta walking 
     to me...

....and where would I keep
    my Lazy Boy...
        and books?
*****************
BY MIL
3/26/15



"FARMING MEMORIES…IN THE ATTIC"---PART TWO



FEBRUARY 25, 2015....(SNOWY) "ATTIC DAY"
**************************************************

Yum, yum, my baked bean snack is regretfully 
over---it was good! The NEHI grape soda in the
glass bottle is empty and I'm stifling the urge to
open a second one.

We were talking about farming and those hot
summer afternoons in the forties, plowing out
north of my old home town of Clovis. 

This was all brought on as I slipped up to the attic
on this cold winter day, with nine inches of snow 
outside on the ground, built a fire in the little stove, 
and noticed my vintage 1949 straw hat and farm 
water bag hanging there on the wall---memories
came flooding back..

A BRIEF HISTORY...
********************
Dad sold the Magic Steam Laundry, 417 West Grand
to the Stebbins family, who later moved it to a new 
building on West Seventh. (The selling date was circa
August 15, 1945.)

He had been a farm boy in West Texas, dating back 
into the teens and twenties...and now had accumulated
enough wheat land to venture into farming. 

Our main piece of land was a section due east of
Ranchvale--- one mile.

Things were a bit primitive at first, with Dad using our
old '41 Chevrolet Master Deluxe and a trailer to haul 
gasoline and supplies to the field. Then came a used
one ton pickup...and finally a new truck.

I well remember that day in Amarillo...out on the Clovis
highway...when Dad made an offer on a brand new
1947 GMC two-and-a-half ton truck...walked out, and
the guy chased him down.

We went home in style that day in a truck that would 
become, in a sense, an old friend, before its days of use
were over. 

Dad had a big heavy duty wooden bed built onto
the back of that 1947 GMC (dark green) and we painted
the bed barn red--two coats. 

That truck could (barely) haul a big wide-front-wheel 
orange CASE WHEATLAND TRACTOR, backed-in...
and transported to one of our farms

It also hauled up to 18,000 pounds of wheat at a time,
which I wouldn't have believed without the elevator
receipt in my hand. It sat low and sagged...in reality
it was too much weight.

(I drove it down the WATER RUNNING DRAW 
on the Grady Highway, headed for the elevator
in town--- many times...and with great care since 
I was only fifteen.)

Over the years we had an old used Oliver tractor,
a "Poppin' Johnnie" John Deere, and finally two
new powerful orange CASE WHEATLAND tractors.

For serious farming of up to four places (at one time)
one needed the power of big heavy tractors to pull
those 22 1/2 foot ONE-WAY disc plows in high gear.

Try plowing around a whole section of land, making a
22 1/2 foot swath, even on a CASE and in high...and 
doing it all day---you will marvel at how little you 
seemed to accomplish.

JAKE'S PLACE, NEAR BROADVIEW...
************************************

We owned land and over time--rented some.

Back in the late thirties and into the forties, Dad and
Jake Snipes had their businesses down on West Grand, 
OK Rubber Welders and Magic Steam Laundry, a
block-and-a-half apart. 

They had been friends through the years and were in a 
group of men who went deer hunting each year down
in the Magdalenas.

Not only that, but Jake and family lived a block from us
and Art and Bobby Joe were best friends and playmates,
as well as schoolmates from 1939 on.

Jake owned a couple of sections of cultivated and 
pasture land about thirty miles north of Clovis and five 
or six miles northeast of Broadview, not far from Rosedale.
He was still busy running his tire business and Dad
rented his farm for a year or two.

I remember that farm well....I liked it. After plowing a 
piece of land over time, you developed a kinship with it, 
that can't be explained. Yes, I still remember it!

Though it meant work for me, riding a dirty, hot tractor, I 
always kind of enjoyed going up there. It was not far from 
the edge of the Caprock, though you couldn't see that far.

We kept plows up there but had to haul our two CASE
tractors up on the back of our 1947 GMC truck. Dad had
dug out a place by a bank, where the truck wheels would 
drop down and he could drive that tractor right off...(or
load it.) 

Note these tractors were state-of-the-art, meaning open,
dirty, no cabs, stereos, heater for winter or air conditioning,
as maybe you'll find today.

Not only did we farm the parts of Jake's farm that were in
cultivation, but Dad also ran cattle on the pasture land.

One of the biggest wheat crops to ever be seen in Eastern
New Mexico occurred in 1948 across the whole area. It
was due to good rains that year.

Trucks full of wheat were stacked up twenty or more deep
at wheat elevators everywhere...a friend of mine slept in his
truck cab while awaiting a grain train's arrival to alleviate
the situation over at Melrose.

The wheat fields on Jake's Place were chest-high even on a 
tall man. I am remembering and guessing---35 bushels per 
acre, that year.


Art and Bobby Joe
Jake's Place
(an earlier year- 1946)

There was an old house out there and some run-down farm
buildings and corrals...and a good windmill!

I always loved to go inside old farm houses. Jake's Place
had one and I was in there a time or two. There was a 
calendar on the kitchen wall that indicated JANUARY 1923.

There were only four rooms, no plumbing that I remember,
(maybe a sink?), some old pieces of furniture left, and the
wall paper was half-stripped or fallen. It spoke of times,
decades ago, when it was a real struggle for early
Americans to eke out a living.

Bobby Joe said later: "You should have grabbed that 
calendar!"

Yes, I loved going to that farm...and there are two reasons,
 my readers, which likely haven't occurred to you.

One is that I loved the general store at Broadview, run by
one of the Tate brothers. It was a nice store. Even had a
meat market. The walls were full of interesting stuff.

You could buy some twenty gauge shotgun shells there,
or .22 ammo. You could buy buns and mustard and 
weenies and make hot dogs to your hungry-teen-age-
heart's desire! (More later on farm stores!)

Something else you've not thought of---our new 1947
GMC wheat truck HAD A RADIO.

After the roar of the tractor and the dirt, and heat of the
day...and headed back to a good supper fixed by
Mother at home, we'd open all the windows on the
truck, drink in the clean coolish evening air, and listen
to the Clovis Pioneers, playing at Bell Park, and on KICA
RADIO!

After a few miles and crossing THE FRIO DRAW, you 
could see the friendly LIGHTS of BELL PARK, and almost 
hear the cheering, and it was nice to know that something
fun was going on in the world---even if you couldn't be 
a part of it!

Now, you see why I like my attic--- look at all the
memories the old straw hat and the water bag....

...brought back.
*****************
Part Two,
BY MIL
03/25/15




Tuesday, March 24, 2015

WHERE DID WE GET THAT GREEN UMBRELLA?



Spring cleaning, that spring, revealed
    colorful stuff
to be rid of...or keep.

Seven orange golf balls for playing
    in the snow...
Old torn sneakers, with red soles...

A Barlow boyhood pocket-knife, with a 
    rusty blade...and blue 
         abalone scales...
A bunch of yellow ceramic bananas...

A forty-year old ragged purple T-shirt
   with MHS lettered on it...
A pink rose, pressed and dry, coming
    apart...

A big,  seemingly oversized greenback
    in plastic, saved from The Great
         Depression....

Pink pair of socks from last year's
    Breast Cancer Awareness Drive....

My long-lost black-and-orange fake
    Transler, used to scare people...

And where did we get that green
    umbrella?

(Was it that White Elephant Party
    that lasted until two a.m.?)

It can GO!



********************
BY MIL
3/17/15