My first paying job

My aunt hired her son Terrell and me  to saw and deliver stove wood at a salary of 50 cents a day, three dollars for the six days. Now, I was accustomed to hard labor but being paid was totally new. We were what people then  called "half grown" but we had no hesitation in accepting the job.

We selected a beautiful and large pine and felled it without difficulty.  Sewing the log into the right length took awhile but we had six days.  Splitting  the sections into slabs was not a problem although this took quite a few hours.  Our problem was cutting the slabs into sticks the proper size for the stove.  I had seen dad chop  the slabs right up to his fingers.  We found this to be difficult, being barely able to handle the axe with one hand.. We adjusted, standing each slab upright and using both hands to swing the axe.

Once while we were taking a break, two large king snakes came toward  us, changed their direction slightly, and confidently passed us by.  I marveled at how fearless of us they  were.

We finished the first tree and sawed down another, soon cutting it up into stove wood.  We finished the job by  hitching a team to a wagon and delivering it to her house. Not only did I earn money, but I look back on it as one of the most enjoyable weeks of my youth.

Just two pennies but so much pain

The temporary two per reduction in the payroll tax is over, cutting your take-home pay by that two per cent.
So, what do you do?  You send the kids to bed every night without supper and on the other hand you max out your credit cards buying stuff you have no us for.

Of course, you don't act that way, bu your federal government does.  The sequester (don't they just love that word) reduces government spending by 85 billion dollars. Sounds like a lot of money but not when compared to what Obama spends. It's two per cent for departments affected but social security, medicare and other "entitlements" are unaffected.

The idea for this action was promoted by Obama but the administration wants to make people hurt and blame Congress.  While trying to make two per cent as painful as possible,like more delays at airports along with longer lines and more harassment of  passengers.  They tell lies like 100 teachers in one county being fired while the TSA spends 50 million on uniforms and other departments advertise to hire more workers.

Do they think we are stupid to believe two per cent can do much harm?  Yes, they are convinced we are just that stupid.  Maybe we are; we re-elected Obama.

Time, you are fleeting

Time is relative, so they say.  I know that as you get older time gets away at a rapid pace. That is, in the context  of days and months whizzing by, while at the same time time drags in the little waiting room at the doctor's office.

What brought this to mind?  Where did January and February go?  One sixth of this year has gone by and I ask myself what has been accomplished.  I find it best to not worry but do as the song says and ask for one day at a time.

Why don't you know him?

Where was I to spend the weekend?  I had spent Friday in Hanover, Germany, at the world's largest industrial show, calling on my friend Rainer Bauer of Bauer Gear Motors and other companies that I had appointments with. Six two-man teams were spending two weeks in Germany trying to persuade companies to locate plants in Louisiana.  My partner and I had different schedules for Friday and would re-join on Tuesday.  Monday was May 1 and would be celebrated as May Day, adding to the crowds.

There were no rooms available in Hanover and all planes to West Berlin were full so I took the train to Hamburg.  Upon arriving at the station and taking a seat at the counter in a cafe, I got into a conversation with an English speaking man.  He told me he had a friend in Detroit and asked if I knew him.  When I said I did not, he said, "You should know him, he works at (some company)."  He then described his friend's appearance and was very disappointed when I continued to deny knowing him.

I did get a place to sleep, at a famous hotel  across from the train station.  When I asked for a room with a bath, I was called a stupid American but I was given a room near the bathroom.

I feel almost like the German.  Why can't we find some one who remembers us?  After all, the ship's crew was only about 500 and we have a list of everyone who was on board when the ship was commissioned.
However,  it has been nearly 70 years and not many of our shipmates are  living.  Like most veterans, we gave little thought to our service; we had to build our lives.  Twenty years ago, even ten, we would have located many more shipmates.

Battle with slingshots

A favorite toy was a slingshot, something easily made and a lot of fun to use.  Rubber from inner tubes was always available and the slingshot was easily made from a fork of a tree branch, sawed out of a board,, or by attaching the rubber to a single stick.  That last is the kind we used to shoot arrows so high in the sky the arrow would go out of sight.

At one time or another most boys got in trouble  with a slingshot, breaking a window or, much worse, hitting some one with a projectile, not always accidentally.  I can still remember one such time.

Revival was in progress at our country church, and the visiting preacher had a son about the age of my cousin and I.  They came to the house to play and we soon engaged in a war, my brother, who was three years younger than I, on one side and the preacher's son and my cousin  opposed.  We were using china berries as ammunition, far less dangerous than rocks but they would sting and bruise. My brother and I were being outgunned and took shelter in part of the barn. The others charged us and we fired back, almost simultaneously hitting the preacher's son and my cousin in the eye. They left rubbing their eyes and crying.

I felt bad but mostly I dreaded what was to happen to me at church that night.  It was bad enough hitting my cousin in the eye, but,  my gosh, hitting the preacher kid in the eye!  So fearing my life was over I went to church and there saw my cousin and the preacher's son, both with beautiful black eyes but both laughing about what had happened.  I don't have any memory of who that minister was but he must have remembered being a boy one time.

Lyrics by van Dyke in 1907; music by Beethoven -- what a great hymn

Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee (Ode to Joy) with Lyrics