78s.... 45s... or...33 1/3rds...I choose the 78s...they fly best...

I was watchin' an episode of "American Pickers" on the History Channel the other night and of course that reminded me of one of my Skeeter episodes..

For those of you not familiar with the show, it's about a couple of guys and a highly tattooed woman who find antiques and collectible treasures throughout homes and farms across America. This particular episode had Danielle, she's the tattooed woman,  getting an appraisal on a stack of 78 rpm records that her cohorts Frank and Mike had found.  She went to see an old-timer in Chicago who was the country's highest authority of old 78 albums.

And of course that triggered the memory

For some reason, mom and dad had a collection of 78s stored in a cardboard box upstairs in our converted attic which served as Ricky and my bedroom growing up in Dayton, Ohio. The box was stuffed back behind the paneling which also kinda created a secret place that "The Jer", my notorious (if someone could be notorious at that age) friend. and I would do many of our "secret things". ...Those stories are for another time).

 Since the records weren't being played and simply gathering dust, "The Jer" felt we could make good use of them.

We had a small window upstairs that looked out on our street, Sandhurst Drive in Dayton. This window had provided us with many hours of entertainment including dropping water balloons on people coming to the front porch as well as a launch site for us jumping out the window while holding a large towel over our heads hoping this makeshift parachute would break our fall and not our legs when we jumped from the window.

It also became the launch pad for what would result in yet another Skeeter and "The Jer" escapade that would have given my sainted mom more grey hair had she learned of what had transpired  ........sailing 78s out the window and laughing as we watched them shatter in pieces after gliding sometimes for over a 100 feet . I guess we went through about 10 of them as we challenged each other to see who could sail their disc the furthest.....

 I know at the time it seemed pretty cool.....and of course we didn't get caught...but, my oh my,  I would give anything to have known what songs were on those 78s and of course if there would be any value in today's market.

As some of you know I now have a immeasurable love of music...all kinds....and in all formats, 45s,  33 1/3rds,  CDs,  MP3s and of course the wonderful 78s, that sailed so smoothly thru the air.

To this day, even though I can't remember where I put my car keys, I can still remember the first 45 I bought  in 1957 for under a dollar  at a record store in Northtown Mall...."All Shook Up" by Elvis and I didn't purchase my first album until 1963 when "The Beatles" released their first album in the U.S. "Introducing the Beatles" in 1963. I can remember Eddie Stout and me singing cuts from that album like "I saw her standing "there" as we walked to Loos school to play baseball.

And now some 50 years later it breaks my heart to know I sailed those 78s out the upstairs window.....but gosh they sailed so good.

Firecrackers, Fingers and the Fourth of July

 We drove to Ardmore, Oklahoma this morning to take our 6 year old grandson,  Nathan, back home after spending a few days with us. And, along the way,  I bet we saw about a dozen fireworks stands....And of course, it triggered a few memories about the Fourth of July.

Please understand, I truly know the meaning of the 4th and why we celebrate it, and I knew the meaning even as a young Skeeter boy growing up in Ohio. But there is no denying it, the 4th also meant firecrackers, cherry bombs, silver salutes,  pop bottle rockets and of course damaged fingers, singed eyebrows and an occasional busted eardrum.

Whenever it came to anything exploding, or fire, or breaking the law or getting in trouble....one always knew “The Jer’ was involved. “The Jer” was one or two grades older than me....the reason I say one or two, sometime along the way he had to repeat a grade or two....one at Our Lady of Mercy and one grade at Fairview High School .....unlike an other friend growing up, Eddie Stout, who actually skipped a grade at Loos school.... I always liked to surround myself with  a diversified group of free thinkers.

“The Jer” had a real knack for understanding the intricacies of fireworks...It wasn’t  just lighting the dang fuse and throwing the firecracker or cherry bomb.....it was also the thrill of seeing how long you could hold it without blowing off a  finger. He was an expert...the veritable “Firecracker King of the Hill.......however, it didn’t come without the loss  of a bit of a finger here or there or some burning flesh on his arms or legs.

Usually a few days before the 4th, we began to watch for a stranger in the neighborhood, slowing cruising through the streets in a bad-ass, raked,  ‘53 Chevy or possibly a later ‘55 Chevy....his hair slicked down, shades on, usually a non-filtered Camel or Lucky cig hangin’ out of his mouth. He wasn’t sellin’ drugs...not back in those days.....he was sellin’ illegal fireworks.... I guess in a sense, it was the drug of choice for “The Jer” back than.

The Greaser would spot us walkin’ down the street or playin’ over at Loos school and he would slowly pull up to us and say....You guys lookin’ to buy firecrackers?”....Dang right we were....and we all had been saving or earning money since school had let out for the Summer just for this moment. The “dealer” would get out, scan the area for any cops or parents and then pop open the trunk to display a cache of pleasure. He had it all, cherry bombs, roman candles, foot long packs of firecrackers and even the little kid stuff like sparklers and black snakes.

It was intoxicating.....we gave the guy our dough...he shoved it in his pockets...filled a brown paper bag with our orders...threw in a few free extra packs of ladyfingers and as he flipped his cigarette butt at “The Jer”....he shouted “Now don’t blow your dang fingers off”......wow....great advice coming from a loose cannon like that on the streets.

We were thrilled....man, this year was going to be the best...the loudest... we were all set. This would top even the year “The Jer” placed a cherry bomb under a tuna fish can and it blew like shrapnel right thru Ernie Pierson’s kitchen window.  And this would even be greater than when “The Jer” surgically removed all of the black powder from I bet 200 firecrackers and packed it all inside a tennis bail and lit the dang thing and threw it in the air at the last second. It rained burning, stinking rubber all over us.

Yep, I have a lot of memories of the 4th...going to the Putt-Putt on Main St. and watching the fireworks display at the driving range.....as a high school student going up to Guy Kennedy’s lake house at Indian Lake and causin’ what some people thought was a mini-riot when  all we did was got drunk and paraded thru town throwin’ firecrackers at anybody we saw......”The Jer” even jumped off the bridge that crossed the lake during one 4th celebration......I think that was the same year....  we were headed to the Lake and “The Jer” attempted to throw a cherry bomb out the window when in fact the window was still rolled up. He did get it out just in the knick of time, but he couldn’t hear anything for an hour or two.

I guess I survived it all.....I seem to be able to hear okay..... I don’t notice many large scars on my arms and I have all 8 of my fingers.......well, I wasn’t counting thumbs.

I hope all of you have a fun 4th of July.....I hope you remember the reason we celebrate it...and of course....be safe..........and if you see someone actin’ kind of crazy, blowing gasoline out of his mouth or holdin’ a firecracker in his hand till the last minute.....tell him Skeeter said “Hi”....I’m sure it’s “The Jer”.