MORE TALES FROM THE ATTIC

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A CONVERSATION WITH BOB ON A WINDY, RAINY DAY!
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Bob, what a great thing for you to
Drop by to see me, on such a cold, rainy,
And blustery day!
I'm cleaning up my attic and
It's the first day of spring and the wind
And weather are really nasty; that pesky old mulberry branch,
Which I need to trim, is hitting the roof, adding its
Rhythm to the patter of the rain, now blowing in sheets
And splatting against the roof and the window.

Come on up, and talk to me awhile...
And who knows, I might have a
Snack for you!

 You know, I want to pay you a compliment,

 Knowing that with your "Junque" hobby
 Your knowledge of memorabilia...is just as vast
 As the American Pickers on TV, so...
 I feel honored and validated 
 Just showing you my stuff!

You know the problem up here is----
That everything I move, dust, stack,
Or even see---reminds me of a story...
Another little slice of by-gone life
That will never come back,
Except as my dear friend and writer Wylie says:
"In memory."

You sit over here---I promised you the
Rocking chair this time!
I'll take this old green steel folding chair.
It looks terrible but it's handy and as strong
As the day it was made. There is a twin to it
In the backyard---goodness knows where we got them,
But they won't break or rust---a sure sign that
They were long ago
"MADE IN THE USA!" (With pride!)
The way things ought to be!

Before you get settled in, I want you to see
My churn! It is the plunger kind!
It cost me seventy-five dollars at one of those
Old-fashioned hardware stores--- the hard-to-find ones.
What did I need with a churn?
Why, just look at it! Doesn't it make you
PROUD---just to be an American.
Everyone needs a churn to remind them of their roots.
Besides, I got it for a steal and
They're predicting churns will go up!

This beat-up work bench here, came out of--- all things...
A Sunday School department from a church over in Texas,
I worked there and they were hauling it away to the dump.
And I hauled it to my garage instead, but its splendid nine foot long,
Two-inch thick top was too long, so I sawed it off
To make a five foot workbench; did a bit of carpentry
And it has been with us for fifty-five years,
And will easily last another fifty-five.

You know, I've always intended to paint this bench!

Do you smell anything great? Yes, I am making us a
Pot of strong  coffee here on the workbench in this shiny
Old chrome coffee pot with the long curved spigot.
When I was single all I had was a stove top percolator,
But after marriage it was relegated to my camp box.
And we have had four or five pots since then, as styles have changed.
Don't laugh but we once went through an "instant coffee period"
In our marriage. So now this chrome baby is MY POT!

It'll be ready soon and we'll have a cup with our Beanie- Weenies.
Do you take it black? If not, I have a few of those coffee-creamer
Things I scarfed at the restaurant. The wife chews me out,
But I say: "I'm getting low on those in my little fridge in the attic,
And what if I have company and they like cream?!"

Say, I hear you went to your favorite stream and caught nineteen rainbow trout
Awhile back, on your own hand-tied flies! My, my!  Do you eat them

Or throw them back? That's got be one of the most exciting and satisfying feats---

Tying your own flies and tricking those rainbow trout 
With their innate sense of wariness and caution... and catching them.

That's impressive.

You know, I have only one trout fly;
It is a Rio Grande King.
I have never caught anything on it.
I think my sinker is too heavy.

We could talk about fishing forever...
Here's a story you will like.
My dad ran the Magic Steam Laundry
From 1938-1945, through WWII
Singlehanded, with no assistant, ever.
No vacations...no sick days...hot toddies for colds...

And you remember the many airmen at the base

With all their dirty clothes...

In August, 1945, he sold the laundry,
And instead of going cat-fishing on the Pecos,
As was his wont, he went down to Murray's
And bought a bamboo fly rod for $29.95.
(It'd be at least twenty times that now for a real bamboo.)
He was going to become...
A gentleman fisherman.

(Yes, this left the kids out---all we could do
Was reel in a catfish when someone shouted:
"You've got one!") But fly-fishing?

Off we headed, and we did fish two days at our old place
On the Pecos, and used up our bacon and orange juice.
Then we went to a beautiful spot---a little gurgling stream
Several miles out of the Tres Ritos village. Passing by
That log store in Tres Ritos, we bought a pound of bacon
And a big can of Donald Duck orange juice.
(Trust me, it WAS Donald Duck!) We put it

 In the cold stream!

Dad didn't do too well on his first foray into fly fishing.
However, an old timer, a hermit-looking guy showed Dad
How to fish with "helgramites," or something, on tiny hooks;
Dad did okay with that and caught a bunch
Ever after that, he was always careful to have some of
Those little tiny gold hooks in his tackle box.

Well, let's stop and have a snack!
Isn't it cozy up here---cold spring day
With the wind and rain and all, hitting the roof!
Here are your Beanie Weenies...I'll set them
On this TV tray---pardon it, it's a bit scratched up.
How about some potato chips Or a dill pickle?

Here, you can use my spare pork-and-bean spoon!

Is your coffee okay? Another creamer?

You have been wanting to play my little ukelele, which is
Sitting proudly up there on top of the dusty bookshelf.
Haven't you? First let me tell you the story behind it.

I went off to Hardin-Simmons University

In the fall of 1951.
My room was in old Ferguson Hall, third floor, section D.
In our area was a little short, skinny kid named "Dawson."
Don't know if it was his first or last name or even
Where he was from. But he was a nice little guy and
As the kids say: "OH MAN," he could really play the ukelele!

First thing you know, four or five of us guys on the third floor
Bought ukes and learned to play and sing: (like "Dawson")
"I'd walk for miles, cry or smile
For my momma and daddy,
I love them, I want you to kno-oh-oh-uh-ow..."

That became a great tool for me to use in my quest for...
A woman!
You see, a college boy home in the summer---who
Could serenade his date---instead of going to the movie---
That was a new twist...a rarity.

 I tried guitar later, but it had more strings, harder chords,
And the frets hurt your fingers, after awhile---

Never was good on the guitar.

(One day my youngest son took to a Yamaha guitar
That my wife used in teaching...He went around
Playing and singing "Mr.Bo Jangles,"
He made guitar playing his career! He got his Master's degree
In classical guitar. Then studied at Tulane
And became a children's guitar specialist at UNM
For the past twenty years.)

Every attic, if you check your attic photos,
Has a "dress-maker's dummy," (my wife says they're called.)

We inherited her mother's dummy.

That's it over there to the right---

A pretty good conversationalist, too,

On a quiet, dull day, up here. LOL.
Her mother was an accomplished seamstress.
Probably made more cheerleader uniforms in her life
Than we'll ever know.
She could do anything with her hands. Any craft.

She taught oil painting and her paintings sold widely.
She would take an old cowboy boot, and paint it some
Bright colors, fill it with sagebrush, or whatever,

And it became interesting decor!

See ours over there in the corner; goes good in the attic!

That long grey floor vacuum cleaner is one
That my parents bought on Reid Street, Clovis, in the forties.

It had a brush for hardwood floors. It's an Electrolux.

(All attics seem to have one!)
It would work, I think, if I'd get a new cord for it.
And a new hose and attachments.

We keep it just for atmosphere.

This is my beat-up Marine K-Bar knife  here
Just sticking out of the end of my rustic bookshelf---
Looks cool, don't you think, and it really can't hurt
This knocked-together old bookshelf.
It's where I keep a lot of books and
WWII memorabilia.

I use this knife for all manner of jobs,
Even for planting tomatoes....
No wonder it has  been so favored by all our marines  through
All the wars, since the BIG ONE.

This K-Bar knife reminds me of stories---
From the Viet Nam war, "Wings of the Eagle,"
By W.T. Grant, is a priceless book. I've read it
Three times. Here's my copy, in the shelf.

Grant was a helicopter pilot, who was assigned
The dangerous missions of landing LRRPS
Behind enemy lines, and when it got hot for them---
Going in with his copter and recovering them under intense fire.

He needed a knife---he had lost his...
And one day, noticed a rusty old K-Bar sticking
Out of a sandbag in his copter revetment.
He inquired about it from his copter's chief mechanic,
Took it to his dugout, sanded it, filed it, oiled it,
And sharpened it. He had a holster made for it
In the village and carried it through the war.

His famous side-kick and fellow copter pilot, "THE DAVE,"
(His own sobriquet for himself)
A truly courageous man and one you'll never forget,
Risked his life many times to snatch the LRRPS out
Of incredibly overwhelming situations, under heavy enemy fire.
He'd say: "THE DAVE will get them out, if anybody can!"

"THE DAVE" didn't make it home.
His name is on the wall in Washington.
Another incredibly brave American, that
Gave everything for freedom and the CONSTITUTION.

That K-Bar knife sticking out of my old bookshelf
Also reminds me of another great American...
This time, a Marine, from WWII.
He was Eugene B. Sledge, a young man from the South
Who wrote "With the Old Breed on Peleliu and Okinawa."
Here's his book here, right by the knife. It is considered
To be a classic in stories of battle, and is still in print.

Sledge lived until 2003.
He could never forget those intense battles fought

By the marines in the closing months of WWII.
He earned a PhD. from a Florida University.

I believe Ken Burns interviewed him very early on
In his WWII documentary preparation,

But Sledge does not appear on screen.

Bob, you were kind of thought of as the expert
Model airplane builder of our old neighborhood.
Look over here, hanging from the ceiling!
Remember my P-51 MUSTANG, that I made in '45!
A little battle worn or age worn, right?

Appropriate, maybe.

While we're reminiscing about our men
Who have fought for our country,
We need to remember the airplane pilots.

This P-51 Mustang plane was an important
Asset in the final year of the war in Europe.
It was the big factor in reducing bomber losses
To "acceptable" levels, due to the fact that
It had a speed edge over anything the Nazis had,
Particularly at altitude; and it was a long range plane.

This excellence came about, because
When the British first received it,
They substituted  their famous Rolls-Royce engine for the
American engine...And thus a great plane was born!
The US then began turning out P-51's with Packard engines,
Licensed copies of the Rolls Royces.

 I think it's only fitting, now and then
For us Americans to remember these things from history
And our boys! I often read and think about them...
A friend of mine...a retired marine

Said to me last year---
"You know, it's not very popular to teach, talk about,
 Or remember WWII anymore, in our country."

I have many times thought of what he said.
Do we realize that if everything hadn't gone just right,
In that war, that cost seventy million lives,,
We might not live in a free world.

I am reminded of what the Duke of Wellington said,
After his army had narrowly defeated Napoleon
At the Battle of Waterloo, 1815---
"IT WAS A DAMN CLOSE-RUN THING!"

Hey Bob, don't go yet. Let me call downstairs on
My new smart phone, and see if the wife will
Being us each a slug of chocolate cake
To go with our coffee!

Do you need some more creamer?

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BY MIL
3/23/13




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