Nicknames....we all had them..... I think?

My friend Eddie recently posted an image on Facebook of the Disney star from years ago, "Moochie",  referencing another "Mooch" who has been in the news recently. The child actor "Moochie",  that we baby-boomers grew up with, was one of many kid stars that causes me to smile as I remember the early days of television. There were also names like Stymie, Buckwheat, Kingfish, and Butch that reflected the mannerisms of those we watched.

I figured everyone had a nickname of some kind. And, interesting enough, some of us have carried that nickname with us all these years.

As Eddie got a little older, his nickname evolved into Fast Eddie, from the movie "The Hustler". Fast Eddie could shoot a mean stick at the Northtown Pool Hall. And even there you would find characters like Pat Colley, who we called "Fats", again based on a guy from the same movie, known as"Minnesota Fats". Pat not only fit the size but he too shot a mean stick and was kind of a hustler. He did enjoy wearing the moniker.

As some of you know, I was knighted with the name "Skeeter" early on. I'm not even sure where the name came from. The person awarding me the title was my friend "The Jer". I still use the Skeeter non de plume when I want to get into character and write stories from my childhood.

We had a kid in the neighborhood, I guess he was the bully that everybody dreaded. His name was "Duck". We called him that because his first name was Huey, after Donald Duck's brothers, Huey, Dewey, and Louy. I'm not sure if we ever called him that to his face though. Maybe that was what set him off every now and then.

Another kid that Eddie, or rather Fast Eddie, reminded me of, was a kid named Eric. His nickname was "Zero" and that was given to him I think by his teacher at Loos Elementary School. I'll let Eddie tell the story if he reads this. It had something to do with the "Zero" getting all of the questions on a test wrong, including even spelling his name incorrectly.

I remember my friend, "The Jer's" dad had a nickname also. His wife, Evelyn always called him, "Bud". I think that was the name of the son on the tv show "Father Knows Best".

I don't know, maybe it's just politically incorrect these days or maybe the so called experts think it is wrong for a child to have a nickname. Maybe the children are too sensitive and God forbid if they are called by something other than their given name.

Another nickname that comes to mind is my friend Bill Bridges. I always thought of him as "Rocky", a name he wore honorably growing up.

My friend P.J. went by his initials in high school. But now that he's all grown up, it's been changed to Paul. Well, except for me and a few others, because he'll always be P.J. to me.

I still use the child-like version of my christian name, Thomas. Many friends still call me Tommy and I enjoy that. It makes me feel young. I dabbled a little bit years ago using the Spanish version Tomas, but that didn't pan out very well.

No doubt there were negative nicknames out there as well. I guess that's part of growing up.

I guess there could have been worse names, "Butthead" or "Buggers".

If anyone has any nicknames that they want to share, I'd love to hear them.

This here's Skeeter signing off.

Sometimes I even surprise myself.....

A couple of years ago I wrote about doin' something stupid when I fell on my butt after being too lazy to go get a step ladder when I was doing some painting and my homemade "ladder" crashed.
I had taken a bucket and turned it upside down and then put another bucket on top of that one and turned it upside down and had an instant ladder. Well, duh...it crashed and I got banged up a little.

I promised then...."no more dumbass things"...I'm getting too old to be breaking any bones or gettin' all stitched up or spraining any muscles. Well, until today.

I was on a pool call to a house I had been to previously. The customer has a automatic gate that closes off the driveway from the alley. The remote control with a touchpad is mounted on the outside of the gate and I had the combination to open it. There is no other way to open or close the gate unless you are in one of the cars with a remote control....

OK...have it pictured in your head-brain?

I saw when I got there that the garage door was also open. So .after I pulled my truck in the driveway, I went back outside the gate and pushed the code to close the gate. I did a high jump over the safety beam so as not to cause the gate to stop from closing. I thought that was pretty brilliant....and besides, I had done it before. The reason I had closed the gate after I pulled my truck in was because the homeowner had recently lost a dog that had gotten out and was killed in a construction accident across the street. And, his second dog has a doggy door that goes into the garage and the driveway. I saw the garage door was open and didn't want the dog to get loose.



The homeowner came out and we visited and I had explained what I had done and he was very thankful for me being that considerate. He told me he had to leave and put the dog back in the house, closed the garage door since he had parked in front and left.

Then it dawned on me...Hell, I was trapped inside. The gate was closed. The touchpad was on the outside. AND, for any of you who follow this blog, you know I lost all of my phone contacts 2 weeks ago and I didn't have this homeowners number.

Well crap, I looked around and he has a ten foot high fence all around the back. And then I spot what might be the answer. I saw a homemade ladder made out of two 2x4s with boards nailed across them for steps. You'll see ladders like this around new home construction sites when workers need a fast ladder and can make them with the available materials.

This dang thing was covered in ants and it looked rotten. But one does what one has to do.

It was long enough as I placed it up against the fence. Carefully climbed to the top. Placed my butt on the top of the fence and pulled the ladder up and put it on the other side. The ladder didn't break, neither did I. I went over and then keyed in the code, opened the gate and and gave myself a pat-on-the back. And, picked off a few ants.

Not bad for some 68 year old man, who knew how to think through the problem!

Some words that inspired me 50 years ago today....

I'm not sure if it was a revelation or an epiphany or perhaps neither. But today, on June 1, 2017 I was contacted by my older brother, who also happens to be a regular reader of this blog, and he asked me the following question.

"Are you aware what happened 50 years ago today?"....Well, no, actually I didn't. I did know it was kind of a neat time in my life ,1967. I was getting ready to go back to college for another year of debauchery. Staying out late. Drinkin'. Listening to music. Mostly "The Beatles".

Dave said, "Well, I just heard on the evening news that the song by the Beatles called, "A Day In The Life" happens to have the name of your blog in the lyrics."

Well, yeah, that's where I got the name almost 13 years ago when I started this blog. And even before that I used it for a column I used to write for a semi-underground newspaper off-base when I was in the U.S. Air Force. I used the pseudo-name Mot Rednek for the byline(if anyone can see the similarity there) just in case anyone on the base saw the column. Dave had never heard the lyrics. I was kind of surprised.

I loved the lyrics then, and I love them now. Although too often people think the name of the song is "I read the news today, oh boy"

I guess I realized Dave was already out of college and he was pursuing his career in the Air Force so maybe rock and roll wasn't his thing. It was mine for sure.

Anyway, "A Day In The Life" was released 50 years ago today. That's my story and I'm stickin to it.

And in a few hours from now "I'm gonna jump out of my bed and drag a comb across my head".

Rock on!

Always ask before you answer....

I have a new friend...someone I met thru my pool business...who not only makes me laugh as we share our stories but also has quite a varied background like myself.

Bill J. grew up in McKinney, Texas just north of where I live which is just north of Dallas. His mother is an attorney and his father, who passed away when Bill was quite young, was also an attorney and later a judge in Texas. Good roots, good people. Bill is married to a OB-GYN and together they have a house full of younguns' as Bill might describe them. And, oddly enough, he has relatives in Dayton, Ohio where I grew up.

Bill is just one of those people who you're immediately drawn to. His deep Texas accent warms you right away and his down home speech might fool you into thinking he is just a good ole' country boy. Well, he's that for sure but he's also a lot more. He's witty, intelligent and very astute at figuring out people. Again, humbly, a lot like me. I guess that's why I like him.

Although the family has now moved to the big city (only about 20 miles south) Bill maintains his cattle ranch up in McKinney. From what I gather he has a variety of stock from cows, bulls and hogs. I really don't know exactly I guess but I'm learning more as we visit.

Yesterday he mentioned he has two cows that were about to domino and he would have to get up to the ranch and check on them.. Now, I'm familiar with the word "domino", since it is often used when pregnant women are ready to deliver. I doubt Bill's wife uses the word in her practice, but this is just Bill's way of telling his stories.

My immediate reaction was, "Wow. hey I'd like to go up there with you and check out the ranch."

Bill said, "Why don't you come up during AI?"

I thought,"Man, AI, gosh this guy is really up with technology. Artificial Intelligence on a ranch."

I asked, "How do you use AI at the ranch, Bill?"

He smiled, again knowing he had me, ""Well, we use it to get the cows pregnant You can help if you want."

I thought...."Yikes, that kind of AI. Artificial Insemination."

I laughed and said, "Well, sure....um do I help the bull get ready or the cow?. and then I said. "NEVERMIND"...maybe I'll just take pictures!"

I tell ya, I love this guy, he's going to be giving me stories to write about for a long, long time.

Another part of Americana Lost....the pocket knife

There was a time in this great country of ours when it was the "good" guys who carried knives. It was the good guys who could fix anything, repair anything, open anything with a simple device they always carried in their pocket. Now it's the pieces of garbage who walk the streets preying on men, women and children willing to cut their throat for a few dollars, who carry the knives.

Pocket knives were not only popular but at one time they were endorsed by a moral American organization, The Boy Scouts of America. The pocket knives were so well accepted they often were referred to as a Cub Scout knife instead of a pocket knife.

The classic Cub Scout knife

Everyone I knew had a pocket knife. Sure, we did some stupid stuff with them. But, for the most part our moms and dads not only approved of us having a pocket knife, heck, they BOUGHT them for us.

Can you imagine the look on some people's faces these days if you proclaimed, "Yep, I got my 10 year-old grandson or granddaughter a pocket knife for their birthday. They'd probably report you to Child Protective Services.

As I mentioned, yep, we did some stupid things with our pocket knives. One game in particular was playing Mumbly Peg (or different derivatives of the spelling) . I'll let you read about it in the link or even watch a Youtube video but basically you threw the knife to stick in the ground and your opponent had to spread his legs further and further apart or another version was flipping the knife off of your arm or hand.. If someone threw their knife into their own foot it was an automatic win!.

We also used to use our pocket knives to do some whittlin', once again a lost part of Americana, and of course we would carve our initials wherever we could find a suitable place without getting caught.

When we would go to Loos Elementary School in Dayton, Ohio we would start off the summer playground session by carving our initials in the lone picnic table they brought from the city. Often times we got the same table back each year and we gleamed with pride when we spotted our TAK's and EGS's and GNW's displayed proudly.

My friend, "The Jer", had the holy grail of pocket knives. The Swiss Army Knife pocket knife. It had it all including extremely sharp blades, a spoon, a fork, a leather -poking thingy, a screw driver, a bottle opener, a can opener and more. I said that he had it, BUT, he wasn't allowed to use it. I know, I know that sounds odd, but then, so was "The Jer" and him not being allowed to have his Swiss Army knife was probably a good thing. But then of course, he always had it defying his parents wishes. One reason they didn't want him to have it probably because he almost sliced his thumb off once. Bled like a son-of-a-gun.

I learned how to whittle from an old man who lived up the street. We nicknamed him, 3 Finger Pete, because he was short a few digits on his left hand. We weren't sure if he lost them while doing some whittlin' but just as well the name fit.

He would carve these little whistles that he called "dog whistles". When you blew them you couldn't hear anything, but he said dogs could hear them. We kinda believed him but now looking back I think he was pulling our leg.

I still have a pocket knife. I keep it in my truck though. Heck, if you get caught carryin' a knife you are in big trouble. You can't go into the Courthouse with a pocket knife. Can't fly. Can't even go into sporting events let alone concerts.

Yep, the world is upside down when the "good guys"  are helpless and the "thugs" have the weapons.

Have a good weekend y'all.

Oh, one other piece of information. It's called Knife Etiquette . If someone ever hands you an open knife...always return it to them in the open position. If they offer you the knife in the closed position, then return it in the closed position.