little jim

Jim Young was a friend of mine back when I was a kid. His family went to my church, Bellevue Methodist Church, he was a member of the same scout troop (Troop 54 where are you), and we attended the same elementary school together (R.A. Mitchell). His mom died of cancer during the time I knew him. Jim's dad had a Septic Tank service (remember his "Honey Wagon") and is a real nice and funny fellow. Jim's dad liked to chop up Volkswagens and ride them anywhere (ANYWHERE!). I don't know how many he had. He also had some old VW buses. I remember Big Jim driving me and Little Jim up to Cumberland Caverns in his micro-bus. It was an old bus back then and smelled of stale old cigarette smoke. He had magnificent cigarette butt collection up front. I remember when we got hungry, Little Jim, cut open the top of some Van Camp's Beanie Weenies. I wasn't really into cold Beanie Weenies - but it seemed part of the adventure. Every time I see a VW bus - I think of that ride - probably the first and last time I ever road in one.

The photo above is of Jim (in the red, white, and blue pants) and me (in my scout patched jacket). That blue chopped VW was Big Jims. I didn't spend the night with many folks growing up and I remember this visit well. Big Jim picked the two of us up after school and drove us home. He drove us down Fairview Road and then without warning, took a sharp right into the woods. There was no road mind you - just woods. That was the good thing about that little car of his - you didn't need infrastructure to travel. He liked taking unconventional sight seeing trips. The detour was a cool thrill ride for me. I'd never been driving through the woods without a road before.

During that visit, Jim and I didn't hang around the house much, he liked to play in the woods around his house. We always got along fine because we liked doing much of the same things. Jim's bedroom was wallpapered (pretty much) with 18 wheeler and hot-rod posters. He knew back then that he was going to be a trucker and that's what he eventually became. Most of the pictures that I drew as a kid were hot-rods. This wasn't because I was into hot-rods - but because Jim was always wanting me to draw them for him. The picture above was taken at our house at 2624 Scenic Hwy after Big Jim returned me home after my overnight stay. Can you make out the WALLACE sticker on the front of his blue bug? You can also see the back end of Brook's red bug in this photo. The patches on my jacket were from Boy Scout camping trips. I can make out two from Shiloh Trail patches, an Alabama Jamboree patch, and a Cumberland Caverns patch. By the time I was finished scouting - the jacket was too small to wear. I guess that jacket was tossed somewhere down the line - the more camping exploits - the more I wore it with pride. I notice that I am wearing my old Dingo boots. Brook told me that that's what The Man With No Name (Clint Eastwood) wears when gunning down Italian cowboys. I just had to have them.I haven't seen Jim in years.

I think the last time that I saw him was outside of the old SING convenient store on Noccalula Mountain - probably 25 years ago. We talked on the sidewalk for about twenty minutes. He said he was in town visiting his dad and sure enough - was driving a rig. I guess it was about ten years ago that I got an email from him. Where ever you are Jim - I hope you are doing well and keeping it between the lines. God bless you!

killer B movies

This clip is from The Thing With Two Heads (1975)

Back in the 1970's there was an overage of police cars, so Hollywood was told to write as many movies involving the demolition of police cruisers. Government grants were awarded to studios that could destroy the most squad cars in a movie. The more the totals - the higher the grant. Now I just made that up - but it would explain the thousands and thousands of police cars I saw ram into each outher, run off embankments, flipped, sunk,exploded, cut in two, or what have you. It got to a point where chase scenes got boring - no matter how many police cars you'd wreck in a chase sequence. You can come up with your own reason - but I doubt if it will be as good as mine. Feel free to give it a shot.

What was your favorite police chase scene? My favorite was in the original Blues Brothers. They spoofed the chase scene by destroying more cop cars than all the B-Movies of the 1970's combined.

western auto

Michael mentioned Western Auto Store in my last post. Anytime I think of Western Auto, I think of bicycles. Western Auto had the bikes. Just before the Western Auto closed in our town (late 80's) - I went and bought some assecories for my new mountain bike. My last purchase was a bike chain, pad lock, and bicycle pump. I also bought a handle-bar bag to carry the lock and chain.

I pulled my old bike down from the wall a few weeks ago. I cut that old worn out bag off the handle bars. I thought of that last trip to Western Auto as I tossed it into the trash.
I never went into that little store and go straight to a particular section. I'd go in and walk up and down each aisle and check out anything new. Funny thing - they rarely had much of anything new.

Back when I was mowing the lawn at my dad's law office or at our Ponderosa sized yard at home - Western Auto Store was where I'd go to get lawnmower parts.
Western Auto was a great franchise.

i triple dog dare ya

A Christmas Story aired back in 1983. It was an instant classic. Unlike most comedies - it didn't have just one funny scene. This movie was funny from start to finish - a must see if you've never seen it before.

Columbia..and other trips in my mind

My grandmother on my father's side died back in 1969. Until that time, the entire Finlayson clan consisting of eight people of various sizes would pack into a station wagon and drive from Gadsden, AL to Columbia, SC. It was a crowded car and a very long trip.

Dad would drive, mom would either navigate or read a magazine in the front passenger seat. The six kids would be packed like sardines in the rest of the car. There was no room for luggage in the car - back then - folks actually used the luggage rack. Nobody particularly cared about sitting next to Irene because Irene had a tendency to get car sick. Don't get me wrong, Irene is a great sis and all, but to be on either side of her was like playing vomit roulette. Let's be honest here, a person's first reaction is not to puke on one's self, but rather turn away from your own lap and spew elsewhere. Things got better once mom and dad found out that there was a motion sickness pill they could give her and we didn't have to be as nervous sitting next to her. The trip out to Columbia was a long one, but I don't recall any major upsets (other than the on going Irene throw-up watch).

The family had our sing-a-long standards. One of them was a song that dad wrote for his old Alma mater, Cheraw High School. It was a fight song that the school adopted and used for many years. Just ask any of Westbrook kids to sing it to you and we can do it by heart. Dad was a band leader in his pre-law days - so he was always the conductor when it came to what song was sung.

I don't remember us stopping on those trips that much. I know that we all loved pulling over when we came across and A&W drive-in.

I remember our Christmas' in Columbia. I remember going up talking to grandmother as she sat in a chair as the rest of the Finlayson adults put a big breakfast on the table. Jennie Llew, Florrence, Rutha, and mom would prep a huge breakfast spread. The dining room table was extended as far as it would go and we'd all try to fit around it. My aunts would always use the best china, glass ware and silver ware. It was a real different experience for me - eating my eggs and sausages on a fancy plate like royalty or like breakfast at an old plantation home in the old south. Yep, that's it, going to Columbia was like driving back into another era. Most of my family over there talked like Shelby Foote or Scarlet O'hare. The Columbia kinfolk were very elegant folk - very genteel and proper. Odd to think that I was cut from that fine bolt of cloth. I am so not elegant. I stained that cloth from my beginning.

As you can see - I wasn't going anywhere in particular with this post - just sharing memories of Christmas past.

When you're young - you think things are going to be the same forever - that the home you have now is the home you'll always have. That the family around the table will always be there across from or next to you. That parents are eternal. The constant about life is that life nothing is constant - life changes. We grow up, make lives for ourselves - make homes of our own. I've been thinking this Christmas about those Christmas' lived many decades ago. They were great times - surrounded by dear kin folk that I won't see until I see them in Heaven. I am thankful for the life God has given me - all this family - all these memories.

Today I'm experiencing a Christmas with young sweet faces before me. Each Christmas is a new experience and we have our own traditions. Wednesday night at the table I tried to share to my children about those Christmas' in Columbia those many years ago. I sounded like an old fart I know. They didn't seem interested - or able to visualize what I was seeing in my mind's eye. Those were my memories, my past - nothing to do with them. Their eyes are set on the present moment - and on the morning to follow, the Christmas spread immediately before them. I hope that they have as good of a Christmas as I am having right now. I have a loving wife and two great little kids. We sat around the table and each offered up a prayer - then we sang happy birthday to Jesus. I don't remember ever doing that before - perhaps a new tradition.

Each year is a little different. Each Christmas day plays out it's own way. The eve is over and tomorrow will be a rush of opening presents and visiting kin folk across town. Like always, evening will come too fast. I hope that in the rush of season that in my children's mind - a few precious memories will be made and kept for the ages - something worth recalling and telling to their children.

Merry Christmas you all - and Happy Birthday Jesus!