Stan's Ramblins

Kettlebells?

2011-02-24T04:24:00.000-08:00

Many of us have reached that foreign soil called "Midlife". It's taken a long time to get here but we made it. We woke up one morning and noticed that our bodies have started to slump, our posture left town and many of us have scales in our bathroom that are scared every time we step in the room. We then make a decision to lose the weight or tighten up our muscles. Both endeavors will be very painful but well worth it. Then there are those friends that disgust you. I have several of those friends. One of those guys is a classmate of mine that lives in Wisconsin. Dean shares with us on Face Book after he runs daily and works out. He runs Marathons and from what I can tell he is in better shape now than he was 30 years ago in high school. He shares recipes of healthy meals and is a fantastic inspiration. Then there is another classmate who recently became a grandmother of a cute little girl named Samantha. My classmate Vee works out with a trainer and swings something called a "Kettlebell". It looks like a small cannonball with a handle carved in it. Seems like the Kettlebell has replaced the last great exercise thingy. Past excercise thingys are the Thigh Master, the rubber hose with a stirrup on each end, the big rubber ball and last but never forgotten the machine you stood on and wrapped a wide belt around your hips then you turn it on and it shook the pounds away!

As for myself I felt my age just the other day for the first time. I was eating my healthy breakfast and all of a sudden my left elbow had sharp pains in it and it throbbed for several minutes. I looked at my elbow and said "What the heck was that all about" My elbow said "Hey Dude it's not my fault, you're the one that's gonna be 50 in July." I realized that this was my first "Old Age Pain". I added an extra set of reps to my bench press. I refuse to go into the night quietly! I've heard about all the remedies for all these pains and aches from putting WD-40 on your joints to drinking weird concoctions from a berry found in the depths of the Amazon. I think Dean and Vee found the best answer and that is hard work. I do a lot of Praying and talking with God. I wake and thank him for another chance. He knows I have a very, very low tolerance for pain and I keep him busy as I work out. Well, time to do my morning workout. Until next time, make sure you pick up WD-40 and Bengay. Watch out for those Kettlebells! Go on now, get at it!

Stan The Ramblin Man

Can't Sleep Skippy?

2010-07-13T03:04:00.000-07:00

Can't Sleep Skippy?

Well, here we go again people. It was a good day, got a lot accomplished, felt real good about how things went. I eat my supper and knew that I was gonna get my weekly visit from cousin Roger. We sit for an hour and a half every Wednesday, chewin the fat, watchin the History or Discovery Channel, or talkin about his latest Trout fishin adventures. This week I finished my supper about five fifteen. Roger usually shows up at six thirty so I had time for a short nap. I felt a sharp pain in my right middle finger only to wake to my nurse checking my blood sugar. She walked out of my dark room lit only by my television and I heard a deep voice say "Howdy". I then remembered I was waitin on Roger. he had been sittin there an hour watchin the news. I would feel bad about it but there have been those nights that he would snore most of the time he was here. I tell you all this to let you know what happens later.

I usually talk to my friend Sandy late in the evening and then try to go to sleep. On a night when I get a short nap in like I had when Roger was here I end up wide awake. No Sandy and I can get into discussions that will go late into the night and time fly's by which ain't so bad. On those nights like tonight it's a whole other story!

I fell asleep for an hour after the news tonight. I awoke refreshed and feelin fine. Later Sandy and I talked about several subjects, sometimes I think we try to out talk each other. Anyway, about two thirty she goes to sleep and I check my email. I lay down, turn on my favorite itunes radio station (Classic Rock of course) and I turn all the lights off. You would think that would do it, but noooo! I lay there thinkin what to do to go to sleep so I start playin my favorite golf course in my head. I played Blair Park in High Point, North Carolina so much I have the entire course memorized. After 9 holes I know this ain't gonna work. I was already 5 over par and lost one golf ball.

I then try to sing with the tunes on the radio. When the nursing staff runs to your room wanting to know what's the matter it's time to quit trying to sing! Yes, my door was shut and yes, it was that bad. I decided that it was time to play Spider Solitaire. Why it's called Spider I ain't got no clue. I played several games and still no Sandman. It's now 5:30 am and I think I will start callin names listed in my cell phone and see who's awake! Hope your last name don't start with "A"! Until next time, keep yer days and nights in the right order and turn yer ringer off at night for that next call at 4:00 am could be me!!!

Stan the Ramblin Man

Signs from God

2010-03-25T01:41:00.001-07:00

Today I was thinkin about the little things we use to do as kids that were a little crazy. We would walk across pipelines that were 30 feet above a rocky creek bed. We would ride our bikes off a small hill hoping to land just right. There were those things that brought about a lot of pain once we missed. Those times were learning experiences. Seems like there always that instant before we ran and grabbed the vine that in our mind something yelled "STOP"! We ignored it of course and ended up on our back or our face one. After the dust would settle I would remember that moment and wonder why I didn't listen. Over the years I have slowed down on the attempt to become a human Crash Test Dummy. I still have heard that voice in my head at times. I hear it right before saying something I shouldn't have and I know instantly that I should have listened. I call these signs from God.

He loves us and wants to protect us from ourselves at times. I know some of you are a little skeptical and that's ok. He has other ways to get your attention. There are those of us that are a little hard headed and God needs to use not so subtle signs. He will put someone in front of you that you need to help or someone that's there to help you with a situation. I once was traveling down the highway in my old truck and at about 70 miles per hour the left rear wheel came off the truck. I was riding alone and the radio wasn't working at the time. My instinct was to slam on the brake. As soon as the wheel came off I heard in a normal voice "Do not touch the brake". I finally listened and rode on the hub of the axle about a mile before coming to a stop on the side of the road. I thought about the situation and realized that as I was fishtailing down the road if I had pushed the brake the truck would have turned sideways and I would have rolled in front of the Car Carrier that was behind me and all the traffic. I knew it was the voice of either a Guardian Angel or God himself.

A friend of mine has been bombarded with things that point to a certain place that is dear to her heart. She is praying for God's guidance in the matter. It can be about any situation that he points the way. God nudged me several times to join a place called Facebook. I was not too impressed with a chat community and avoided it. He kept sending me nudges until I took a look at it. Now I have renewed friendships with hundreds of old friends. God doesn't force us to do things, he puts gives us a nudge and we decide if we want to listen or not. That's when you are running as fast as you can and grab that vine to swing out over the creek, you might wanna take a second to think "Did I hear God yelling STOP?" before committing to the jump. As they say "Hindsight is 20/20". Of course as a kid I thought that meant someone had good vision out of their hind end. I know, I know I should have listened before I wrote that last sentence, but I bet some of you folks thought the same thing.

My brother and I went snow skiing once. He had never been before and this was my second or third time. I wanted to show my little brother how good his bro was. I got to the top of the hill and pointed both skis towards the bottom of the hill. I pushed off and looked like one of those Olympic Ski Jumpers. I got to what seemed 80 miles per hour and forgot to use my skis to slowdown. My right ski hit a mogul(small bump) and I ended up launching in the air. My head went into the fresh powder and stayed as my body continued to flip over. I lay there not wanting to move cause I just knew I broke every bone in my body. A couple of guys from the Ski Patrol stopped with a basket to lay me in but I was determined to walk. That was a bad choice by the way. I got to the bottom of the hill and sat on a bail of hay. Looked up and saw my little brother taking off his skis on top of the hill. When he got down to me I asked why didn't he ski down. He said "God has always told me to watch you and do the opposite." I was a sign from God for my brother, a sore sign though. We need to try and listen to God a little more so he won't have to keep writing on billboards. Until next time keep your ears and heart open so you can see the signs God is giving you.

Stan the Ramblin Man

Listen Love and Laugh

2010-01-04T23:28:00.000-08:00

It's that time again, time for a Ramblin. It's been a while since our last chapter and time for a new one. I see life as a book at times and inside the book are chapters of our life. Some chapters are good and some not so good. I try to find humor in everything. I figure when times are hard and we feel beat down we just need a good laugh to bring us around. I get my sense of humor from my Mom's side of the family. Her sister Clara and I had a special bond when it come to humor. We thought just alike. Something would make us laugh our heads off while everyone else missed it completely. We all have a tad bit of a smartelic or what I call funny sarcasm in our bones also. I get that from my Dad and his father. One weekend a good friend of mine named Al Carver and I went to the mountains to galivant and campout. We stopped by the nursing home my Grandfather Ernest Hoyle was in for a visit. While sittin in his room I wanted to strike up a conversation with him so I thought long and hard. I inquired as to where his inlaws were buried. The conversation went like this..."Are the Murphy's all buried in that cemetery up on the Seven Mile Ridge in Celo?" I asked. He replied, "I reckon so seein how their all dead". My buddy Al about hurt himself laughin and said, "Yep, that's Lee Hoyle's Dad."

It's been an eye opening year for me. It's ok to have a grandson but to all of a sudden have two? I keep remembering what my Grandparents looked like when my brother was born and then I look in the mirror and keep watchin for my hair to turn white. I also have so many friends from high school that are becoming Grandparents. It just doesn't seem right for these gals that you use to flirt with at school becoming a Granny or a Mawmaw and they don't look like one either. I think it's cause we don't dress like our Grandparents did in a way. Time has moved on for some schoolmates as they have gone on to be with the Lord and I kick myself for not being in touch with them more. Friends are our extended family. We need to let our friends know more how much they mean to us. Jesus taught us to love one another and especially others that we have problems with. It is hard sometimes and almost seems impossible but if ya just think about all the time your wasting being angry then why not reconcile? As our society and lives get faster and faster with technology we need to take time to love each other. Even if it's just a random phone call or visit to say "Hey friend I love ya." then we need to do it. I enjoy listening to folks talk about their lives and what makes them happy. It always raises my "Happiness" thermometer to hear someone talk about their new neice, nephew, grandchild or the Wii they got for Christmas. Remeber the three "L's" Listen, Love and Laugh. Until next time talk amongst yerselves!

Stan the Ramblin Man

Christ Like

2009-11-07T03:10:00.000-08:00

Earlier this week I heard a question on the television that got me to thinkin.
"What are one of the ways we can be Christ Like?" I got to thinkin and while
doing so the phone rang and it was good old Mom. Listenin in on one of our phone
conversations could confuse Confucius. We go from here to there and a
little of everywhere. Well just out of the blue she asked me "Where does
Vinegar come from?" I was caught off guard and had no clue. I said I think
it must come from a vine with the first three letters being "VIN". So I told
her that I would Google it and find out later. She said she had to go to Hospice
for some volunteer work and told me to email her the answer. I went to good
old Wikopedia for the answer and this is it....

"Vinegar is made from the oxidation of ethanol by acetic acid bacteria. The
ethanol may be derived from many different sources including wine, cider, beer
or fermented fruit juice, or it may be made synthetically from natural gas and
petroleum derivatives[3].
Commercial vinegar is produced either by fast or slow fermentation processes.
Slow methods generally are used with traditional vinegars and fermentation
proceeds slowly over the course of weeks or months. The longer fermentation
period allows for the accumulation of a nontoxic slime composed of acetic acid
bacteria and soluble cellulose, known as the mother of vinegar."

Mom wrote back......
Thank you very much. I had a very sudden burst of energy yesterday to clean the
inside and outside of my bedroom windows. My mama always said use a little
vinegar in your rinse water to make your windows shine- I remembered her advise
and sure enough - did the trick. Unknowingly, dipping my hands in the vinegar
water did something else - cleaned my rings to a brilliant shine. Even the
tiniest diamonds in my ring blinged blinged. So there - its good to remember
Mama's advice. Maybe that's why the nontoxic slime is known as the "mother" in
vinegar. Something to think about. Have a good day - I'm off to the cycle
class then to Hospice to take my negative TB test to them and maybe take care of
some laundry while I'm there. PS- Nancy said she uses vinegar in her mop water
for her hardwood floors. By the way, I don't suggest putting your hands in the
mop water just to clean your jewelry."

Mom is a Volunteer at Hospice and goes over a couple of days a week to help out. She
loves going over to see "her ladies". As you can see when we get into a conversation it can
go in any direction at anytime. That's when I learn something about her usually that I never
knew or something about our family tree. From what I can tell our tree is full of volunteers
that go way back. People that serve their fellow man and do it whole heartedly. It is evident
on both side of my family tree. They do it without regards to fame or fortune. Sometimes
giving their life in the process. That my friends is what we call being Christ like. To think
of others before yourself and that is something to be proud of as I am. So to ancestors
who fought in wars bravely like the one written about by Elizabeth Rucker in her book
"History of the Hoyle Family" written in 1933-

"Lieutenant John Hoyle, fought the
Cherokee Indians before the Revolutionary War and thus gained his title of Lieutenant.
He was a young man and always fought with Col. Hambright before and during the Revolutionary War.
The consensus of opinion was, among the older generations, that Lieutenant John Hoyle was on the
northern side of Kings Mountain with Colonel Hambright's men."

to my Mom who stays busy with Hospice and Church functions and my Brother John who gave
so much time to helping young men learn in the Boy Scouts of America through Troop 160 in
Thomasville, To the whole Sudderth clan in Montezuma, North Carolina tucked away in the
beautiful mountains who are volunteer firemen, paramedics and rescue personnel. My cousin
Roger Byrd who drives out of the way to sit with me and talk about life once a week after
he gets off from work,
I want to thank you for helping to make me a better person and being Christ Like by
giving of yourselves. Well until next time get ya some vinager and shine yer bling bling.

Stan the Ramblin Man

Cuzzin Larry

2009-09-01T22:38:00.000-07:00

I come from a large family of fine folks. My mother's side of the family is laced with many different characters. One such character is Cousin Larry. Now we are goin back in time a little while to when I was just a youngen. Our family would leave Charlotte on a Friday afternoon and travel to Montezuma in the High Country of the North Carolina mountains. Montezuma is located between Linville and Newland at the foot of Grandfather Mountain. Larry and I share a God given gift of Gab. We can talk the bark off a tree and tell you stories that sound unreal but are so true. I believe this tale tellin ability is a Sudderth trait much like my right pinky that won't completely lay flat. My mother and my Uncle Felton have the same pinky. When I was just a little feller I remember visitin my grandparents Lloyd and Belle Sudderth. Two of the finest people you'll ever know, God rest their soul. Their son Clyde and his wife Bernice lived next door. Larry was uncle Clyde and aunt Bernice's son and he is a few years older than me.

I would take the worn path between the two homes and of course stop to get water out of the old hand pump that was between the houses. I would go to see what Cousin Larry was doin. He would be watchin a movie with uncle Clyde or a football game and I would hang out with the guys while eatin on one of the many treats that aunt Bernice always had cooked up during the day.
Saturdays were usually a little slow to start cause as most kids back then, I was up early on a saturday mornin and was out helpin Pawpaw Lloyd feed his beagles or piling up rotten apples for him at the back of the yard. I would run down to aunt Kate's apartment visit with her as she sat on her porch havin her coffee and cigarette. I thought teenagers were lazy cause it would be late in the mornin before aunt Kate's daughter Pam would be finally waking up so I would go with Larry to Mrs. Price's store and would get me a Brownie chocolate drink and a bag of penny candy.

One fine day Larry was talkin to cousin Dwight. Now, cousin Dwight is my mom's sister Thelma's boy and he also is older than me. Dwight or as he is called now "Sparkie" cause he is an electrician, always looked like a cowboy to me. He has that moustache and looks like he rode in on a horse. I reckon it was the way he always dressed. That particular day they were talkin about weed and how people were smokin it. I wanted in on the action and told em I wanted some weed to smoke. Well, they knew a good opportunity when they saw one. They told me that we had plenty of weed we could smoke. We then went behind Pawpaw's house and we collected some Rabbit Tobbacco or as we call it Rabbit Bacca. They rolled it in some smokin paper and made me the pertiest cigarette you ever seen. Remember I was around 6 or 7 at this time and I huffed and puffed on that Rabbit Bacca till I turned gray. I then proceeded to cough my darn head off. I am not sure who was cryin the hardest between the two of them for laughin so hard. I felt like a Yankee at a Snipe Hunt. I just knew they were tellin the truth cause when Cousin Dick Parker (Aunt Kate's boy) told me to chew Rabbit Bacca it tasted horrible so it must of been for smokin! I reckon I art to thank them boys for playin a trick on me cause I ain't never wanted to smoke any weed since. I only have mentioned a few of my cousins that have been a big influence in my life.

The one that continues to amaze me with his humor and love of his family is Cuzzin Larry. He and I both have a part of our Grandfather's DNA that I see as a blessing. Some people you know are mechanics, doctors, bus drivers and all kinds of jobs that those folks are good at and that's all they ever do. Larry isn't one of those folks. He is a man of many talents. I remember as a teenager getting a chance to spend the night with Larry at the Linville Fire and Rescue Squad as it was his turn to be on call. I just thought that was the greatest thing. He has tried a little bit of everything such as Construction, Deputy Sheriff, Newspaper Delivery man, volunteer fireman/rescue, now weather and traffic reporter for downtown Montezuma as he has been sidelined by his ticker sputterin. For many years Larry has put together the physical structure for the Grandfather Mtn. Highland Games and run the security detail also. That's a huge job in itself and people from all over the world have admired his work in which he has help from his wife Diane, his son Levin, his daughter Mindy and a whole bunch of brother's, cousins and friends. Larry is one of those guys that will stand in the background but truth be told he is a hero to many. Until next time be wary of smokin anything that Larry and Sparkie roll for ya and drive slow through Montezuma so you don't cause any traffic problems.

Stan the Ramblin Man

Gone to the beach!

2009-07-08T01:03:00.000-07:00

The roads heading East are worn by all the summer time beach goers. The chaos builds as Dad packs the car, Mom has him unpack it to put just one more thing in the suitcase and the kids are electrified in excitement. Time for the trip to Emerald Isle. We traveled with a bus load of kids from the Baptist Orphanage where my parents were House parents. We would get the bus the night before so we could load it and be ready to pull out at 5 am. We would be so excited as our cottage and another would combine for the trip down. After leaving we would travel in the cool morning air until we got just past Raleigh and then the air turned warm. When we got to Kinston on Hwy 70 we would stop for lunch at the sister orphanage. We would eat the prepared sandwiches and drinks chilled in ice coolers. After lunch the boys and men would go to the huge farm of the orphanage and pick watermelons, corn and any other resource we could find and fill the back of the bus. It usually consisted of 10 watermelons and 20 cantaloupes and several bushels of corn. Off we would go watching the farms go by until there it was on the horizon, that beautiful white bridge that took us across the Bogue Sound and to Emerald Isle. The anticipation was almost more than we could bare.

We would arrive at a huge cottage built in the 50's as a coastal home for the Orphanages across the state. I is nestled in Live Oaks among the sand dunes and only a few feet from the Bogue Sound. We would unload and worked as a team to get all the corn and melons into the kitchen. I remember there was an Ice Machine that would produce soft flake ice. It was great with sweet tea. We had great times walking across the street to the Indian Beach Pier and watching fishermen catch all sorts of fish from King Mackerel to Sand Sharks. Every summer the home came with a lifeguard that stayed all summer so we could swim in the ocean. One year my brother got that job. I really enjoyed hanging out with him some that summer. The Bogue Sound was not as dangerous as long as you wore shoes to keep your feet from getting cut by the mussels and clams or the occasional curious crab. The water in the sound was only knee deep mostly and stayed that way for a couple of miles until you crossed the Inter coastal Waterway. We would take day trips to the State Aquarium at Pine Knoll Shores and to Fort Macon at the end of the Island. Our favorite activity was going to Atlantic Beach to the Carnival in the Triangle. There were bumper cars, swinging cages, and all the other thrill rides. We spent our hard earned chore money there and at one of the Islands Putt Putt Courses. In Pine Knoll Shores there was one of the first water slides I had ever seen and we would always spend half a day there.

The cottage seemed like a second home after several years of staying there. I can still hear the back screen doors slamming as kids would go out back to wither fish, swim or ride in a boat for a while. We all had to try our hand at sailing with the Sunfish Sailboat the cottage had. Many of us were not so successful as others. There were two islands the were about a mile from the cottage that were about an acre in size. Usually a group would get together and take boats, rafts, inner tubes and some just walked as we would travel to those islands. Once we arrived back an afternoon nap was needed by all. We always had devotions each night prior to bedtime and our leaders would take the time to really speak to us kids about God's commitment to us and ours to him. Sometime a few of us would head over to the pier for late night fishing. I remember one night we spent the night on the pier just because we thought it would be fun. IF we were there on a Sunday we would all dress in our church clothes and go to the Methodist Church in Salter Path. Yeah, I know we were Baptist but that was the only church near by. The other churches were all the way in Morehead City and that was just too far. My father really liked the Pastor of the church in Salter Path and he appreciated us coming to worship.

We would head out one afternoon to Beaufort and walk the docks. When it was suppertime we always ended up at Capt. Bills on the docks of Morehead City. My favorite was the Sanitary Restaurant just a few doors down but it was a little more pricey. We would go there on our last night and fill up on fried flounder. drum, hushpuppies, and that sweet iced tea. That night we would pack up the bus again and leave the next morning after cleaning the cottage to the liking of my staff Sergeant father. Most of the time we would pass another busload of kids on the way to the beach as we were headed home. Of course we would stop in Kinston again to raid the orphanages farm. We would arrive home and I would add another Bert's Surf Shop sticker to my foot locker. I had one on my school bus that I drove also. Those memories of Emerald Isle are vivid in my mind. For those who have been I am sure they know what I mean. all good memories with the exception of a few such as the Thanksgiving weekend that our family stayed at the cottage and Mom invited my college sweetheart. Things went arye and I broke up with what I now know was my soul mate. Well, that's a whole other book which I am writing. I do miss Emerald Isle and will one day return to smell that sea air. Until next time, put on plenty of Coppertone and watch out for those nasty sand spurs!

Stan the Ramblin Man

Small town police work

2009-04-26T09:22:00.000-07:00

I worked as a policeman in a small southern town called Denton, North Carolina. There was a population of 1,000 friendly citizens in this town that was much like the one in the Andy Griffith Series "Mayberry". Everyone knew each other and news spread through the town like a fast wind. I remember once standing in a small mini mart and having a coughing spell. There were 3 or 4 folks there and I made the comment that I felt the flu ache coming on. That all happened about nine am and I continued working and making my rounds. 2 hours later I got a call to go by the sheriff's satellite dispatcher office in town to pick up an article. I arrived about 11 am and the dispatcher handed me a bowl of homemade chicken soup from one of our local residents. This little old lady had gotten a call from her sister that I was deathly ill and since I was a single man I was probably not eating enough.

Like I say Denton was a close knit community and you would think everything would be normal all the time. Well, not so fast there bubba. One evening I was working the night shift. It was around 2 am and I was taking my lunch break with our dispatcher and watching some movie on their office TV. The window was open cause it was a hot summer night. I had a good relationship with the local kids and they knew they could come to me for any help any time. One kid pulled up and stuck his head in the window. He said "Stan, there's a black man walking barefoot down W. Salisbury Street eatin something out of a can." I looked at him and said "Don't bother me with your foolishness can't you see I am on break?"

Now the reason this sounded foolish was the Denton had at the time a zero population of any black folk. It had a reputation of being still one of those places that haven't quite come to terms with General Lee's decision at Appomattox. Therefore the news of a black man walking through Denton at 2 in the morning was a little more than unbelievable. The young man persisted and told me to come look. I stepped out the front door and look down the street and sure enough there was a black man walking barefooted eatin out of a can in front of the post office. I got in my car and pulled up and told our new friend to get in the car. He got in and his hair was all a mess, his clothes were wrinkled up pretty bad. I asked him where he was going and he told me he was going home to Charlotte.

I then told him to tell me his story. Come to found out that he had just that day been released from The state mental hospital Dorothea Dix. He had no one that could come get him so he decided to walk home. He then asked me what town was he in. I told him Denton and you could watch the blood leave his face. He started yelling that I had to get him out of there and they were gonna hang him. I tried to calm him down. I asked who was gonna hang him and he said that the clan was everywhere in Denton and they would hang him. I told him to calm down. I asked him to trust me and that I would not let anything happen to him. He then told me that the clan would not stop and would hang me also for helping him out. I said, "Now you know the clan won't do anything unless their big dog told em to" He said I was right and then I said "Well, son you are safe then cause you are sittin with the high potentate of the local chapter." He almost had an out of body experience just then. I told him I was just kidding and he was safe with me. I told him those were old war stories about our town and we were not like we use to be. Of course I wasn't so sure about that but I didn't want to scare him any more.

I called the sheriff's deputy working in the area and told him our friend needed a ride to the county line. Deputy Chip Peacock just happened to have a friend working in the next county and we were able to get our friend a ride to the Charlotte area that night. Before he left Denton I had him calmed down and he finished his can of peaches. Just another night in the big town of Denton. Until next time keep your shoes on and be aware of where you are.

Stan The Ramblin Man

My Hero is.....

2009-02-01T22:49:00.000-08:00

For years when you say the word "Hero" you would think of Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman. They all were members of our comic books, television shows and even movies. Then the wars came and when you mentioned Hero you would be talking about Audie Murphy the most decorated soldier ever. You would be thinking of John McCain who spent 5 years in the hands of the Vietcong and survived even though when given a chance to leave and let the enemy try to embarrass his country he decided to stay and gave his chance to leave to other prisoners of war. Those brave soldiers who fought even though the war was not popular.

Action figures were made and every kid back in the 70's had a G.I. Joe and all the tools he needed to take on the V.C. We watched Rat Patrol and Combat on the TV along with Hogan's Heroes and McHales's Navy. Then came September 11th 2001 at or around 8:20 am. Suddenly the average Joe becomes a Hero. The passengers on a plane headed for the U.S. Capital took over and flew the plane into a field in Pennsylvania in order to save other lives. These were Patriots along with the citizens who crawled through the rubble in the Twin Towers to help a coworker get to safety or held their hand and not leaving their side while life left the coworker's body. The firemen, policemen and rescue personal who gave their lives to help others, the ones who survived and still to this day ask "Why not me?",

I find that my Hero's have been historical figures such as John Wayne, George S. Patton, and Ronald Reagan. As I get older I realize who my real hero is and that's my Mom. She lives 2 hours away and takes time to visit me and stay for a few days. She cuts my hair and washes it just because she wants too. You can go ahead and call me a Momma's Boy if you want to, that's ok cause I cherish every moment I get to spend with her. We laugh as we reminisce about the past and talk about the present. She always has a positive attitude and keeps me up to date on family happenings. We always have been a traveling family and they still do. I being unable to go with them am always thrilled to hear the stories about her ventures. She tries her best to involve me in the family outings and will call me from places that she wishes I could share with them. So, when it comes down to it you don't have to look far for your Hero. Sometimes they are there all the time just doing what they do best and that is taking care of their loved ones. Thanks Mom for being my hero.

Stan the Ramblin Man

Tweetsie Memories

2009-01-03T16:05:00.001-08:00

Folks have so many options now when they want to get away from the rat race and take the family on vacation. They can go to central Florida and chose from several theme parks including the Mouse House and a park based on movie themes. There is a Six Flags theme park in at least two states and that goes the same for Busch Gardens. Then you got the whole Eastern Seaboard with destinations such as Myrtle Beach, Daytona, Miami, and Duck.

Growing up in the 60's our theme park destinations were limited yet just as exciting and I dare say a little more personal than today's parks. After watching television shows like the Rifleman, Gunsmoke, F-Troop, and Daniel Boone we were always geared up to save a damsel from an "Injun" party with our shiny new cap pistols. We knew that when summer came we were going to get our chance. We lived in Charlotte when I was a kid and our local CBS channel WBTV had a Saturday show that came on with our host Fred Kirby and his trusty horse "Calico". Fred would wear his Marshal outfit and would have kids in the studio with him. In the summer you could find Fred making guest appearances as the Marshal of Tweetsie Railroad in Blowing Rock, North Carolina. Tweetsie was our big theme park when I was growing up. Tweetsie is a steam locomotive that ran a route in the early 1900's in the High Country of North Carolina and Tennessee. The rail line was called East Tennessee and Western North Carolina Rail Road which was abbreviated as ET&WNC or as the kids would say "Eat Taters and Wear No Clothes".

The train was a cheap mode of transportation for the people of such communities as Newland, Boone, Montezuma and Johnson City. In fact the train went right through the front yard of my mother's childhood home in Montezuma until the "Great Flood" of 1940 when most of the track was either damaged beyond repair or just gone. Later the train was moved to Blowing Rock and a theme park was born. The park was designed to look like an old west town with stores, a jail and a depot for the train. There were hitchin posts and an old saloon with the swinging doors. Right before the train would fill up with tourists, the Marshal would come out of the bank with the cash box to put on the train. Out of the saloon would come several bad guys who wanted the box and Marshal Kirby would tell them to move on. Well, as a kid you knew it wasn't going to be that easy. The next thing you know one of the bad guys would draw his gun and after a volley of extremely loud gunfire and smoke Marshal Kirby would still be standing and the Cashbox made it onto the train. You couldn't get more authentic than standing there right in the middle of the action.

We then would board #12 and take the 3 mile loop around the mountain. The route took us by a mock Indian village and by a Fort that came under attack while the train was sitting still. The Indians would come onto the train yelling and running through the cars scaring us pretty good. Of course Marshal Kirby and his deputy would fight off the Indians along with a pose that would show up just in time. We would arrive safely back at the depot and would exit the train. There also was Tweetsie Palace where you could get a cold root beer and watch the magic show and the "Cancan Girls". One could get their picture taken on a life size statue of a horse or in the jail behind bars. You then could take the chair lift to the top of the mountain and would get off of the lift in the large Castle. On the south side of the castle was the home of the "Sleeping Giant". He was a larger than life figure that was asleep in his oversized bed. You could hear him snoring and if memory serves me correct, either his feet or his head would move also as he slept. On top of the mountain there was a carnival atmosphere with rides such as a small motor boat carousel in a tank of water that kids could sit in and steer the wheel. I believe this was actually a place where parents got a chance to sit on a bench and rest their feet while the kids rode with glee.

It was always a day of fun and excitement when visiting Tweetsie and as you lay your head down that night you could still hear the whistle and the bell of the train. I you just happened to be standing too close to the gunfight earlier that day you also may still hear a ringing in your ear. The actors would use a regular 44 caliber hand gun and use blanks. That didn't do anything to muffle the noise from those huge guns. After a couple of trips to Tweetsie, I started to keep an eye on the bad guys and would cover my ears during the battle. I wasn't as gun shy after those fights. I guess I took a certain pride knowing that as a kid my Mom would watch Tweetsie roll through her yard and she would get to hear that sharp "Tweet", the whistle made and later became the namesake as the kids would call it "Tweetsie". The name stuck and the rest is history. Well, until next time keep your six guns loaded with caps and remember to feed your horse.

Stan The Ramblin Man

A Guy and his Truck

2008-12-17T08:22:00.000-08:00

A guy and his truck.

She is a 77 Ford F-150 with a Modified 400 Windsor, A Holly 2 barrel carb, duel cherry bomb mufflers and a pair of Hooker headers. This picture was taken prior to the left rear tire coming off of the truck at 70 mph on I-85. The wheels were beautiful aluminum with a wicked design. She loved to drink gas at 10 mpg. The engine was purchased from Richard Childress Racing and had 14k miles on it.
I once was sitting waiting on the red light at Hwy 109 and Liberty Dr. I was going south on 109 and a small Nissan truck that was all painted up and looked fast pulled up beside me and he gave me that laugh like I was sitting in an old clunker. I smiled at him and waved goodbye. He didn't care for the insult and rived up his toy. I sat quietly and when the light turned green I floored it. The front end of the truck lifted up and off I went. I lost sight of him as I approached the Dumpsters and pulled over at Ben Lee Road. I got out of the truck and waited for him to come by. It was sweet to leave that windup toy sitting at the light. He finally came around the curve and pulled over to take a look at my "Effie".
Yeah, I named her after my Dad's Mom. Sweet yet stubborn. I purchased Effie due to her being a Supercab and I moved the front seat back 5 inches so I could sit comfortably. I also put in a small steering wheel to help out. She was with me 10 good years and I sold her to a friend of mine in Denton who put it on his lot and two days later someone stole it. I am sure she is on a farm somewhere enjoying retirement and occasionally working the fields. She was a Hot Rod trapped in a truck body. Never underestimate the relationship between a guy and his truck. Ladies do not fret for he loves his truck differently than he does you and you need not feel as if you are in competition for his love. Yes, he will buy her gifts from time to time and he will talk to her the way he use to talk to you in high school. It's natural for a guy to be this way. He has to keep her shiny so that the other men will take notice as he slowly parades her through town. Until next time, hang a pine scented air freshener and shine those mags
Stan The Ramblin Man

Ode to the Nose

2008-11-22T00:48:00.000-08:00

Living in a partial sterile environment can lead to what I call "Smell loss" , kind of like memory loss. Things that one would smell here would be from those little alcohol pads they wipe your arm with right before stabbing your arm with a needle. You also can smell the food as it comes off of the elevator. After a while I have been able to tell what's on the tray prior to lifting the lid. The Respiratory personnel come in and will wipe down the ventilators with a wipe that looks much like a baby wipe. The difference is that these wipes have a pungent metallic smell that seems to never go away.

Then like all other health facilities there are those unmentionable sells that need no description. The things I miss are those others take for granted. The smell of Pine sol after Mom cleaned the kitchen. The smell of a campfire with all that smoke in your face. The smell of good old North Carolina red clay dirt. The smell of my paternal grandfather's Aqua Velva. My maternal grandfather's Redman. My Uncle Bobby's Kent Menthol cigarettes I would smell as he would cut my hair while I was screaming bloody murder at the age of 2. I miss the smell of my Dad's Brylcream and his famous Chili.

The smell of the woods during a summer rain. The smell of chlorine in a swimming pool would smell good to me right now. I can remember the smell of the soap bars my grandmother would put in the clothes drawers and the heavenly breakfast she and my grandfather would make every morning. The smell of freshly picked ramps and how they smelled on the stove in our ranger cabin at Mount Mitchell State Park. I worked hard to get those wild onions as I climbed down a cliff with our senior park ranger named "Poppy". From what I remember the Ramp only grows at 3500 feet in elevation and higher. It was well worth the effort as our dull hamburgers lit up with flavor. I miss the enchanting smell from the Tasty Bakery when as a policeman in Thomasville. I would stop in every morning at 4 am while my friends were making the day's supply of cakes, pies and cookies. You didn't need to eat there to gain weight, all you had to do was inhale those smells.

I miss the smell of the Banana/Apples that lay on the ground rotting near my grandfathers home in Montezuma, NC. They drew the attention of yellow jackets also. The smell of the ocean and the Bogue Sound at Emerald Isle, NC. The wonderful smells of a fall fair with all the onions, peppers, sausages, hot dogs, fried twinkies and popcorn that filled the whole area. I also associate certain smells with special places such as Kenan Stadium in Chapel Hill with the smell of the pines. The fresh cut grass at Forest Oaks Country Club the first morning of the GGO which is now the Wynndem Classic. The smell of canvas from 50 yr old Boyscout tents in the Scout Hut at Mills Home. The rich wood smell of a small country church. As you can see smells are like memories, you can get a whif of an old smell and remember the good old days. Until next time, stop and smell the Honey Suckle.
Stan The Ramblin Man

Sheltered

2008-10-09T08:22:00.000-07:00

Hi Folks,
I just felt in my heart that it was time to write you a note about comfort. I know many of you that have physical ailments that you deal with minute by minute. Some of you have Fibromyalgia, Lupus, Migraines, Back Injuries, Bladder troubles, Kidney Stones and many more ailments that are always there. There are those that deal with chemical imbalances that can affect our moods, eating habits and all kinds of other little things that are just aggravating. I say all this to let you know that it's gonna be ok. After being bed bound now for five years I have learned to adjust to my situation and sometimes no matter how strong I think I am and positive I still have those days that I would rather skip.
I find myself awake now at 2:15 am and thought I would try to put myself to sleep by listening to some music. I put in a CD of Southern Gospel Music and one of my favorite songs came on which is "Sheltered in the Arms of God." I started listening to it and thought about the lyrics and how God does shelter us even through our tough times. "I'll have no fear cause Jesus walks beside me" Wow, no matter what the world tells us, we are not alone. He walks with us no matter what we go through, no matter how bad it is he is there. Every time we think that we can't handle anymore of a situation he comes through and lets us know that through him we can do anything.
He also gave us each other. He sends people our way that are in need of a friend and he sends them our way to be our friend when we are in need. We have ample opportunities to make a difference in someone's life if it's just to pick up the phone and say "Hi Friend" or go by and visit one who is not physically well enough to get out. If you feel like you are just not doing enough to help others then say a little prayer and ask God to keep you busy. I guarantee you will be blessed with plenty to do. He wants us to willingly search for those in need of a boost whether it be physical or spiritually. Once we start helping others we soon forget our ailments and problems as he takes care of our needs. Keep your eyes on him and he will shelter you in his arms.

In His Service
Stan Hoyle

Tuesday Afternoon

2008-10-09T08:19:00.000-07:00

Tuesday was starting to be like most other day of the week and then took a turn for the weird. My beautiful daughter Melissa works at a Walgreens Drug Store in High Point, NC. She is a cashier and loves her job. Melissa is a passionate person and takes things always to heart. Tuesday she was ringing up several items for a man and put it all in bags for him. While doing so, he asked her what the total was and when she told him he grabbed the bags and ran out the door.

In a normal situation she should have called the police and reported the theft. Well, Melissa is not your average cashier and leaped over the counter in persuit of the man. He got away and she immediately calls me on her cell phone and was madder than a hornet. The conversation went on like this....

Melissa- "Daddy, I just got $113 stolen from me"

Me--"Out of your pocketbook?"

Melissa-"No, from my counter, I almost had him, Daddy if I would of had my scissors I would have taught him to never steal from this Walgreens ever again."

Me--"Did you call the Police? And what do you mean You almost had him? You didn't chase him did you?"

Melissa- "No I called you cause you were a Policeman and would I get in trouble for hurting him if I caught him?"

Me--"Never, ever chase anyone! It's only $113 and it can be replaced but you can't."

Melissa- "If I catch him it's not gonna be me that will need replacing it will be him. This is my store and not his and he can't just come in and take stuff."

I told her to call her manager and then the Police. I hung up the phone and laughed to myself about the situation and knew it was his lucky day that she didn't have her scissors and that he got away. Well, a couple of hours later while working hard on a vigorous game of Solitaire, I get another phone call. This time I can hardly understand Melissa as she is crying and talking at the same time which no one can understand. I told her to calm down and tell me what's going on.

I understood a couple of words such as wreck, she left, my car is hurt and why. I finally got her to calm down and she told me she was driving home and a car stopped all of a sudden in the road and Melissa couldn't help but hit the car in the rear. A girl got out of the car and was yelling at Melissa and was asking her why she did that to her car and asked her if she knew she had children in her car. Melissa told her that she was the one that stopped all of a sudden and that she has a child too but he was at home. The girl then proceeded to drive off.

Melissa then called me again and told me her front was messed up and the headlight's bulb was hanging out and looked like an eyeball hanging out of it's socket. I told her to call 911 and she then called a co-worker who arrived a few minutes later. The two of them decided to try and drive it home. Melissa called me on her way home and said "Dad, I don't know how but the car is actually driving better than before the wreck. It also doesn't rattle anymore either. I think she may have fixed my car when I ran into her".

I laughed and thanked God she was safe and almost home. The moral of the story? I am not sure but now I understand those looks my parents use to give me and those famous Lee Hoyle quotes such as "What were you thinking?" and "Well, we can't tell your Mother, it would give her a heart attack." Dad was very protective of Mom but she is a tougher bird than he gave her credit for. Well, until next time, don't chase any shoplifters, and never run with scissors.

Stan The Ramblin Man

Mr. Blue Sky

2008-10-09T08:18:00.000-07:00

This mornin I am really trying hard to remember who the person was that recently introduced me to www.hulu.com. It is a TV and Movie web site that plays clips or full length versions of popular shows and some movies. Reason I am looking for the person that mentioned the site is I want to strangle them. That's correct, you heard me right. It is 6:00 am and I am writing a Ramblin. Reason is cause I just got finished watchin Raising Arizona which is one of my favorite Cohen Brothers movies. I got my days and nights mixed up cause I watched "Of Mice and Men" the other night and the latest episode of the new NBC series "Life".

I think maybe this wireless thing is a curse cause I can now watch videos and yes I am an admitted YouTube junkie. I can't get enough of cats pouncing on dogs and humans or not so bright guys trying to jump off of a roof and onto a trampoline expecting things to go good. Now I will eat breakfast watch my favorite show "Fox and Friends News" and I will fall asleep. I usually will cover my head with my sheet due to all the light and this startles some folks that come by to visit. They think the worst but then they notice the vent hose going under the sheet and the machine is still on. My doctor one day came in and I woke to hearing him say, "We will make our incision here, scalpel please" and of course I poked my head out and said "Whoa Doc!" He laughed and I almost died.

Getting a phone call while I am groggy can be entertaining as well. Some folks like my Mom can tell when I am asleep when they call and they have fun with me by talking gibberish and later asking if I understood once I am awake. I want to say that the person responsible for my sleepless nights is my Pastor Michael Bowers at www.rfbc.com . It sounds like a site that he would like and now that I think about it I am pretty sure he is the culprit. I also have learned how to make a playlist of music and I have downloaded many of the old tunes I listened to as a teenager. Kids now just don't understand a playlist with "Mr Blue Sky", "Smoke on the Water" and "Minnie the Moocher" being on the same list. Technology has finally caught up with me and I will not let it consume me (hopefully). Until next time, if you come by and the sheet is over my head, don't be startled I am just catchin some zzzz's

Stan the Ramblin Man

Haints or Flyin Squirrels gone amuck

2008-05-18T21:20:00.000-07:00

My maternal grandparents lived in Montezuma near Linville and my paternal lived in Estatoe, near Spruce Pine. I have sat at Wiseman's view and watched the Brown Mountain lights appear and have encountered a personal visit from my grandmother who passed in 1984 or a group of rogue flyin squirrels. Her name was Effie Murphy Hoyle of Brushy Creek Rd. in Estatoe at the foot of Woody Mountain. Her and my grandfather John Ernest Hoyle lived in a small 2 bedroom slat board home built in the 30's by Ernest, and his sons James and Cecil. They raised 7 children in the small home which was no larger than 800 square feet.
Effie was particular about her small flower garden just south of the home and forbid us kids to walk into it or even be around it. It was surrounded by huge chunks of feldspar taken from either the Hoot Owl Mine or the McKinney Mine where my grandfather worked as a driller. He was short but very strong and was called "The Little Giant" by coworkers. He could do the work of 4 men. They lived a simple, yet full filled life. We were very close as a family and when Effie suddenly died due to complications with Gang green of the intestine it was a shock to the family. At the hospital my grandfather was with the rest of the clan as the doctor told him that with life support she would live but only as a vegetable and that once they removed the life support then she would more than likely die. He did not want her to be in any more pain and along with the rest of us decided to discontinue the life support. I was a police officer in a small town near Thomasville and my grandfather told me to go make sure that they did everything properly.
I went into the room and saw her chest heaving upwards with the help of the machine and knew she was not comfortable. The nurse turned off the machine and she stopped breathing. She looked so peaceful. We buried her at Liberty Hill Baptist in Estatoe which is the family church. Before going to the cemetery I took a tiger lily from her flower garden and when she was lowered I tossed the flower with her in the grave. I felt as if it would be something that she would want.
A few months later I was married and took my new bride to stay one night with my grandfather. We stayed in the second bedroom which was next to my grandfather's room. There was one light bulb on the ceiling and had a string that run to the headboard. After getting settled in the bed I told my ex-wife Sherry to pull the string as to cut off the light. It was not more than 2 minutes later we heard the door to the room open up. Being in a hollar at the foot of the mountain the only light at night is that of the moon or stars. When the light was off then it was pitch black. I figured my grandfather was coming in to retrieve a pee pot from under the other bed in the room as they did not have indoor plumbing and plastic milk jugs were kept under the bed.
I heard footsteps come across the floor in what sounded to be hard soled shoes. The steps continued to the end of our bed and came up the side between me and the wall and stopped. I then thought maybe he was sleepwalking and I told Sherry to turn the light back on. She did and there was no one there and the door was closed. The unnerving thing was that the mirrored armwar (I know it ain't spelled right) at the foot of the bed had her favorite dresses and shoes in it and the mirrored door was wide open. It was closed and had been that way since her death. Needless to say, Sherry and I did not sleep the rest of the night and never stayed in the house again. Yes, the possibility of a nightly visit by the flying squirrel family was there also.

Stan the ramblin man

Four Anointed

2008-04-08T12:32:00.000-07:00

L-R Charlie, John, Glenn, Cecil after singing at Aaron Baptist Church in Montezuma, NC.

I want to let you know about a fantastic Southern Gospel Quartet from Flint Hill Baptist Church in Boiling Springs, North Carolina. This group is called "Four Anointed" and is composed of four men of God that have been Anointed in the past to serve him. My younger brother John Hoyle and I have been blessed with singing voices passed down by our lovely Mother Imogene Hoyle. Our Father Lee Hoyle tried but found that singing was not one of his God given gifts. John sings Baritone and is joined by lead singer Cecil Clark, Tenor Glen Carter, and Bass Charlie Cabaniss. The sound and Dulcimer are taken care of by Bubba Anthony.
The quartet put out their first CD "Sheltered in the Arms of God" in 2005 after four years of singing and praising God. Some of the selections on this album are"The next time he comes", "Sweet hour of prayer" featuring Bubba Anthony on Dulcimer, "Walkin into Gloryland" which was written by Cecil Clark. Also one of the group's most requested songs "Alpha and Omega" is on the track. April 5th 2008 the group released it's second album "Washed by the blood". Selections on this album include "We shall see Heaven someday", "Gonna walk and Talk with Jesus", "His grace is sufficient for me". Having an extensive background as a singer and listener of Sothern Gospel I am really excited by both albums and this new one really shows the vocal talents of these men. If you would like to get a copy of either album or would like to see if they can sing at your church just call Charlie at 704-471-0304 or my brother John Hoyle at HoyleJ@sccsc.edu . Here are a couple of pictures.

Aunt Bernice's Eulogy by Cousin Levin

2007-10-30T11:01:00.000-07:00

Granny's House For those of you that may not know, we're the grandkids. That means that we are the elite group of folks who were fortunate enough to grow up knowing the true meaning of the word "Granny". If you are here right now, then you know exactly what I am talking about. We could go on for hours telling you things that you already know about Granny. Let me begin with something that you don't know. My Granny had the sharpest fingernails of any human being on Earth. I know this because she used to give us baths when we were little. Things would start out normally enough. You know, scrub between your toes, be sure to get behind the ears. But then there was the horrible ending - the dreaded grand finale when Granny would turn around and reach for the pan under the sink (which later became a pitcher). This was when the crying started. She would put in the shampoo, and she would scrub your scalp with those razor blade fingernails, all the while reassuring us that everything was alright. And of course it was alright. But I can still remember sitting in that tub with images of her telling Kenny and Dennis the same thing 40 years earlier. Sometimes it is hard for us grandkids to think of Granny before she was a granny. But our minds are rich with memories passed down to us from the small army of children who grew up in the Sudderth house long before we came along. For we must remember that before she was Granny, she was"Momma". Each of us has our favorite story of our parents' younger days. Tales of triumph and tragedy, laughter and adventure, and even the occasional run-in with the local authorities. All of these were handled deftly by the dynamic duo of Clyde and Bernice. Cool under pressure, slow to anger, but don't push your luck. We also have to remember that before she was Granny, she was "Aunt Bernice", whose door was never locked, whose kitchen was always stocked and whose yard was no stranger to pickup football games, wrestling matches and more snowball fights than you could count. The nieces and nephews in this room will all tell you that there were few pleasures in life that could match walking into her kitchen and just taking in the aroma of whatever she had cooking. Raise your hand if you have ever tasted our Granny's cooking. Congratulations! Whether it was a full Thanksgiving Dinner with Turkey and all the fixin's or just a peanut butter and jelly sandwich it tasted better just because she made it. Some of the favorites mentioned while we were writing this include meat loaf, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese (with applesauce, of course), those legendary biscuits and at least 7,000 potroasts. It may sound corny to say this, but everything our Granny cooked tasted better because you knew the love that was put into it. I know that for many years the field crew at the Highland Games would fight over her home cooked meals, especially on lasagna night. There was a time, though, in the late '70's when the home built by Clyde and Bernice became "Paw Paw & Granny's". And folks, let me tell you, there is no experience that compared to being one of the grandchildren. Granny's house became a place to hang out, a place to play, a place to eat and of course a place to hide from your parents. On more than one occasion Dennis would stop by looking for Brad. She always covered for him, at least enough for Dennis to cool off.A typical Saturday would start off by coming to Granny's for breakfast, followed by a morning of running around Montezuma looking for something to get into. Then it was back to Granny's for a sandwich and some chips (or tomato soup in the winter time), and then an afternoon of playing in the little patch of woods between Granny and Aunt Thelma's. Then it was back inside for some chicken and biscuits for supper. Sundays were even better. Go to church, then straight to Granny's, where you would eat in the kitchen at the kid's table, or on the deck if the weather was nice. The rest of the day was spent hanging out in the den trying to find ways to hide what you had just broken. And for Mark and I, there were the "covert operations", where we would try to sneak up from the den and follow Granny around the house without her knowing it. I can't tell you how many times we would sneak up and listen in on top-secret phone conversations with Aunt Faye. Christmas. Where do I start? If you happened to be around at Christmastime, you had the pleasure of seeing one of the most meticulously decorated Christmas trees you have ever seen, complete with those legendary little icicles and those big, colored lights. You also had the pleasure of tasting cherry winks, smelling turkey and hearing laughter for hours on end. Beach Trips. A true rite of passage for all of us. If you went with granny, you got to spend your days in the pool while she watched from her lounge chair in those blue shorts and that flowered shirt. Then you had to come in for lunch and wait at least 30 minutes before going to the ocean or you will cramp up. No matter how you knew her, she was always a kind, caring and proud woman. She was always there for basketball games, talent shows, graduations, piano recitals and any other excuse to go out and show off her grandchildren. And she will always be remembered as a woman who would take in those she loved when they needed a place to stay, even at 3:00 in the morning. She took in boarders on more than one occasion, and for that she will be forever remembered. I want to close by sharing a quote that was sent to me by a dear friend of mine just the other day. I feel that it sums up the Christian humility and grace that my Granny showed throughout her life. "I long to accomplish great and noble tasks, but it is my chief duty to accomplish humble tasks as though they were great and noble. The world is moved along, not only by the mighty shoves of its heroes, but also by the aggregate of the tiny pushes of each honest worker."Thank you, Granny, for each tiny push. I love you.

Tough Decisions

2007-10-18T02:22:00.000-07:00

There are those moments in time when you just wonder. You ask yourself "What if I had?..." You ponder what has to be done and deep in your heart you know when it's time. You fight the urge to cry out and you think can I save this? Is the outcome worth the penalty, is the reward as good as it seems to be? Do I take that chance once again? Do I give it all I got to save what I have or do I drop it and take a shot at that one thing that I want so bad? After thinking about it I think I will stay with the old, forsaking the new. I pull the cat out of the bag and I look down with sweat running down into my eyes. My breathing is faster, my heartbeat is out of control and I just did what I came for. I strike with the force of greatness with every muscle in my body watching and waiting to see how far it can go before being stopped by that tight fescue. Will it spin back to my goal? Will I achieve my dream with this one that I have kissed so many times prior to extacy? then there it goes ever so fast, I cringe as I wonder if I went too far to come back now. But then it happens, the greatness is revealed as my Titlist Golf ball falls in the hole. C'mon, you knew I was talking about a whole in one, right? Don't you just love golf?