Magic Moments

Even a caveman ...

2010-04-21T15:09:00.000-07:00

We think our welcome as you enter the shop is a good'un ... we're a place where folks can, and we hope they will, gather to visit with friends - share life experiences - tall tales - or maybe discuss politics, religion, sports, news, weather, current affairs ... just about anything interesting or imaginable!

The key words being the action verbs ... gather, share, and discuss, methinks ...yes, we want to put the hurt on our visitors, right out of the box, making them work! Test their mettle ... that's what the boss said! Privately, I just hope you'll will enjoy themselves and make some new friends ... but no good reason to fret or be in a rush to explain all that, it'll happen fast enough if they gather, share and discuss!

Sharing "Magic Moments" ... is an important part of what we're about ... they permeate the Shop as well as our lives and if we don't share them, they'll just sit in some corner, taking up space and gathering dust. So we have a Special Feature devoted just to them. Most folks seem to like 'em, those special moments providing memories that cause us smile and feel good ... boosting our spirits and fueling our passions! We all have them ... many more than we think ... and when shared, the magic multiplies, as if blessed by Merlin himself!

I'm no writer, Shop regulars well know that ... the first time I posted comments on a blog, someone responded "Bob, it's past your bedtime, go to bed!" But I do write, mostly about my Magic Moments ... sharing those little memories that make me simile in the hope that folks might enjoy them too! It's fun to try ... making someone smile is about as rewarding as anything can be ... a two way gift, a magic moment within itself ... ample payment indeed and makes the effort worthwhile!

Magic Moments are indeed magical for those of us who can't write but do like to try ... my guess is that they engender more stories than anything else, maybe all the other things combined! That's because they're so easy to write ... just string together a few magic moments and you have a great story!

Think about it ... no, that you don't have to think about it is part of the magic ... the story has already been written, just for you ... it's in your memory bank, pre-assembled so no thinking is required, no batteries neither. Just copy it down and you're done!

Most of the success of TheOldBarbershop depends on participation by those who visit The Shop ... that includes making comments, entering into the discussions and of course, sharing magic moments! Here in the Shop ... when folks comment, that's a magic moment!!!

Some think that most Shop visitors just won't participate, period! They may well be right but I hold a different view ... if folks are motivated to participate, they will, if they're not, they won't!

I rarely say that publicly ... the last time I did, it took me a month to get out of the doghouse with the Boss and other barbers. See, making our success mostly dependent on you, kinda takes us off the hook ... like the fellow what blames his failure to catch any fish on bad luck and his claim that the fish just weren't biting!

I heard that claim from more folks than you could count when I was a boy, and believed it too ... but that was all second hand knowledge until Daddy and me went fishin' with my uncle out on Lake Bedford, up here in Middle Tennessee ... early summer of '51, methinks. We shared a big bucket of Catalpa worms, rented a flat bottom boat and fished for seemed like three hours, maybe four. My luck was rotten, the fish just weren't biting ... I got nary a one, bite nor fish!

Daddy's luck was a little better than mine ... two or three bites, and one little fish, too small to keep. The fish weren't biting, not where we were, that's for sure!

Why did we need that big bucket of Catalpas, picked fresh off the trees ... that was hard work!

Well, uncle Verlon was sittin' in the middle of that little boat ... me in the front, and Daddy in the back ... not quite sure of his luck or how many bites he got. All I know is that he kept 26 of the nicest Crappe I've ever seen as his prize!

The fish weren't biting, not off either end of the boat ... if only I'd sat in the middle, that's where they were. I told him "you had all the luck ... wish I'd had some!" but he just smiled and said "If I'd depended on luck, we wouldn't be having fish for supper, that's for sure!"

I'm not so sure he even needed any Catalpas ... seemed to me like they were trying to jump in the boat.

You've got to stay alert 'cause sometimes them moments come in bunches ... we'd left Grandma's that day, early just as the sun was rising, stopping at an old General Store for cokes, and a fishing license for Daddy ... on the counter was an old cigar box, full of pennies and I spotted a 1909 VDB which the proprietor gave me for luck! He didn't know or care what it was ... it was just a penny to him, but it was extra special to me and made my day! No, I didn't catch any fish but I felt lucky to have it ... first one I'd ever seen, and it was mine!

Old Ben said that a penny saved was worthy of note ... times change and today pennies are but a worthless nuisance. These days, about the only thing a pocket full of pennies will get you is a hole in your pocket! Well, I guess it really depends on the penny. A 1909 VDB-S penny in very good condition would probably cost several pocketfulls, maybe $750 ... one in mint condition over $5,000!

Indeed our success does depend on your participation but it's up to us to make it where you'll want to join in ... to "jump in the boat" with the rest of us, me thinks!

If you're like me, you probably think that special or exciting things rarely happen in your life ... that's the way I feel ... think again! it's usually the little things that you treasure most ... unexpected, unforeseen ... maybe that's what makes them exciting and special ... magical. Think of the smiles those memories bring ... think of the smiles and lives that will be enriched if shared! Think of the smiles that will be lost if not ...

Some folks don't like to smile ... makes them feel silly or something. Share a magic moment and watch 'em smile ... the sillies can't help themselves! The Bible says " ... and he saw that it was good" ... have you ever wondered why? Well, when God created smiles, there was no need ... he already knew it!

I write about what I know for my imagination has always failed me ... maybe a faulty pair of jeans for which I blame Daddy. I think I'm a junior as a result of his having the same problem. Folks think I'm kidding ... my grandson is the fourth(IV). It may well be the reason why Robbie is an only child. I have an aversion to pain and it would have been traumatic, contemplating a possible name were I to have had another son.

Millions of unshared Magic Moments are lost forever, each and every day ... that's untold millions of smiles! Hard to put a price tag on the loss in today's marketplace but, with all what's going on, smiles must be at a serious premium!

Sharing magic moments is easy ... like I said, they've already been written, all you have to do is just copy them down! Even a caveman could do it!

Birthdays - Who's Countin' ...

2009-10-15T13:19:00.001-07:00

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hello all

It's my birthday, imagine that ... I almost forgot ... it wouldn't be the first time ... which was in 1964. Nor the second, that came but 3 years later ... one I forgot, but will never forget ... and which hopefully was the last.

1964 was an eventful year for me, especially the second half ... I was stationed in Fürth just outside of Nürenberg in northern Bayern about 90 miles north of München ... I was stationed there, detached from Herzogenaurach less than 15 miles away ... but I certainly wasn't stationary, anything but.

In early September, I flew home ... got engaged ... her daddy reserved the First Presbyterian Church of Atlanta for Easter Sunday ... misplaced my orders and got put in jail for over 12 hours while they verified I wasn't AWOL nor no spy ... did get two big new suitcases filled with birthday presents, neat stuff including two new suits and a pair of Florsheims... flew back, only to find my leave had been extended as requested; two contrariwise notifications notwithstanding.

It made me mad ... real mad! Almost broke, I got a driver to take me back to Frankfort ... spent me birthday at the Air Force base ... what with all the rush, I totally forgot it was the day but do remember seeing "The Hagger Twins" perform ... and Joe Besser too. It took two days but I finally copped a hop back to Langley ... called home for money but got a prepaid ticket to Chattanooga instead ... a commuter to Philly, then United to Atlanta. We circled Hartsfield for over an hour ... bad weather and backed up flights, attributed to a hurricane between Mobile and New Orleans.

Another two hour delay ... waiting for the Delta flight going to Chattanooga ... so I surprised me fiancee with a call ... local call, she lived out on Nancy Creek in northwest Atlanta, and we talked for most of that time ... interrupted, every ten minutes or so, by someone on the loud speaker asking if anyone in the airport spoke German!

After about 10 of them interruptions, me betrothed said it had to be an emergency and insisted that I find out what it was and see if I could help. I told her that surely, someone in that whole big airport spoke German ... someone other than me!

Turned out there was ... two in fact ... trouble was, they didn't speak no English! A pair of old maid aunts from Bremen, going to visit their nephew in Biloxi ... hadn't seen him since he left home, just after the war! Ain't no way no plane was going to Biloxi that night ... "maybe two or three", said the manager of the airport.

I explained that the manager would provide lodging and take care of their needs, but the ladies' main concern was that their nephew would worry when they didn't show up as scheduled, and rightfully so. We located him, they talked to him in obvious delight ... and everything worked out fine for everybody!

Well, almost everybody ... not so fine for me. would you believe it ... I didn't get nothing ... not even a thank you, kiss my foot ... no, not nothing!

I did get to miss my flight to Chattanooga ... but they certainly didn't provide me lodging or take care of my meals. Me girl and her daddy picked me up ... I stayed in one of the guest rooms and we drove to Chattanooga early the next day.

My luggage? It went to Chattanooga as scheduled ... or so we think. I called Hartsfield when I got settled in and thought about the luggage ... and that's what they said would have happened. However, Daddy called the Chattanooga airport that night ... no luggage ... and it wasn't there when we checked the next day.

Well, young love is impatient and the thought of five months together in romantic, historic Europe ... won out over five months apart, big wedding and three weeks in Hawaii!

We eloped ... that is to say, we drove down from Chattanooga into Georgia, just across the state line without tellin' nobody ... took a no-waiting blood test and got married ... inside a jail cell, not quite the First Presbyterian Church, but married all the same.

Yes, a jail cell ... the Justice of the Peace married us but his office was so small that we had to stand in an adjoining holding cell while he said them "repeat after me" words ... and we did!

We drove back to Chattanooga ... we didn't tell her, but Mama knew it within two minutes of our arrival ... mamas just know those things, I guess. Mama was thrilled! We called her Daddy who was at a convention in Saint Louis ... he wasn't!

I figured it best for me to get out of Dodge ... so I flew back to Frankfort, first class, compliments of Delta, sans my lost new luggage and birthday presents ... train to Nürenberg, on which I fell asleep ... missed changing trains, and headed east rather than south ... realizing the problem as we approached the point where the train crossed into the eastern zone.

Indeed, it was a problem ... me with my Top Secret, Cryptographic clearance ... being where I was ... was indeed a no-no. Luckily, I was allowed to detrain before we reached the border, but it was scary ... and a 2.5 hour trip had turned into about seven.

I found us a nice apartment in Fürth ... well, four rooms in an old 19th century two story. We had to share a separate bathroom with a German family ... but it was well furnished, convenient, and nice, as was the apartment ... relatively cheap too. Dirt cheap, compared to Atlanta prices, even in 1964.

Me bride arrived 2 November, 11 days after we were married ... in a snow storm ... the worst in 50 years, they said! Two feet of snow throughout the area ... and it continued throughout that winter. We bought a car ... wanted a Mercedes automatic, but none were immediately available locally ... so we settled for a Rambler American with its fully reclineable seats. It was a foolish decision financially; the Mercedes was less than $6,000, loaded ... one of convenience ... but we enjoyed it.

She came over on a regular passport, independent of the Service, and not as a military dependent ... all the privileges, but fewer restrictions and some extra freedom.

Her name, I can't remember ... dang! McBrayer, I think it was ... she spoke no German and whenever we got stopped, I spoke no English ... me German wasn't that good, but good enough to fool ugly Americans ... and all the military we encountered.

One of the first things we bought was a Grundig ... radio, record player, reel to reel tape combination ... that was pretty expensive but she had always wanted one ... cost DM 3,000 or about $750 ... a good one ... same model, export version, cost $2,100 back home she said.

For "Thanksgiving" we ate at my favorite Nürenberg restaurant ... where there were no prices on the menu ... scary, but it really wasn't very expensive. To our surprise, the chef treated us and then invited us to go "Bier und Wein" tasting with some of his friends! "Bier auf Wein, das lasse sein ... Wein auf Bier, das rat ich dir" ... meaning, methinks "beer then wine ... is fine, but wine then beer ... oh dear!"

He spoke little English, his friend none ... but we had a great time ... I translated both ways ... getting at least some of it right. After, three over hours of having so done, I discovered that they thought my wife spoke fluent German and that she was helping me with mine! Unbelievable but true!

We all went back to the apartment where they stayed until after two ... singing old German songs and trying to teach them the English versions. Lili Marlene ... Rosamunde (Beer Barrel Polka) ... Du kannst nicht Treu sein (You Can't Be True, Dear), Du, du liegst mir im Herzen(You, you are in my heart) and others.

The next day, the neighbors complained about all the noise keeping them awake ... but, we hadn't really made that much noise ... of that I'm sure. Germans is sneaky ... our neighbors made a tape of us singing, amplified it and put it in our Grundig when we were asleep ... goodness! Unfortunately, the tape later became corrupted and is no more.

Most everybody got leather goods that year for Christmas ... aus Nürenberg ... including us ... matching coats. It was fun exploring and shopping in historic Nürenberg, even in a foot of snow. A beautiful city ... it took very close examination of the old stone buildings to find any evidence of what had transpired, twenty years after the fact.

Getting the required passes was not a problem, provided the work was being done ... my work schedule was four days on and three off ... pretty good, but four on and ten off would have been better ... there was a lot to see and do!!

Well, I told that to this good old boy who did the same work as me ... from over in Cajun Country, small bayou town of which I'd never heard ... not too far from New Orleans, he said. I was just talkin' ... but, he volunteered to work the four days for $30 ... said he had nothing better to do and could sure use the extra money.

My guess is that he would have done it for $25, maybe a bit less ... but I was taking no chances. We stuck around the first couple of days, taking it easy and making sure he'd do as promised ... and he did!

We drove down to München ... stayed the week at a wonderful hotel next to main railroad station ... I can't remember it's official name but the name on its marquee included "München Hauptbahnhof" ... auf English ... Munich Railroad Station.

The Ice Capades were in town that week ... and troupe stayed at the hotel ... received complimentary tickets. We didn't officially meet them but shared the same dining room ... they were hot stuff back then!

It was 5 star quality but the thing I remember most was the maître d'hôtel ... straight from the movies, only better! He took care of us personally ... the first night he brought us huge menus of many pages ... and me wanting to impress me young Ehefrau, I did the ordering ... it took me thirty minutes to read the German menu ... but I finally got her did!

Baby shrimp salad with King Louie dressing, followed by Sauerbraten (Roast Beef, German style) fixed the hotel's special way ... with potatoes, black truffles and giant green peas(English, only huge) ... unbelievable ... super wonderful good and tasty too!

To drink, we had local Bier, with a tablespoon of champagne per mug!

The things I remember best were (1) it was cheap, (2) the portions were enormous ... enough shrimp to feed six, but the King Louie was so good that we ate it all and surprisingly, had room for the main course, and (3) on the second night, my bride discovered the English and French sections of the menu and never let me live it down!

Yes, of course, we had shrimp salad every night!

The second and third days we walked around town in the snow ... so much to see and do ... museums, so much history and mind-boggling architecture. This was mid November, long after Der Oktoberfest, the world's largest fair, that ends in early October and which will celebrate its 200th anniversary next year ... but, for some reason, the streets were filled with people. No, there's not another shoe to drop ... but it was crowded enough so that 45 years later, it's one of the things I remember most.

Maybe it's always that way ... both days we stood for well over an hour just looking up at the world famous Glockenspiel in Marienplatz, part of the Rathaus(city hall) in the heart of München, not far from the hotel ... waiting for it to do its thing that I'm sure always draws a crowd, a fantastic 15 minute show featuring bells and lifesized figures ... 43 bells and 32 figures, according to the Internet.

The top half of the Glockenspiel tells the story of the marriage of Duke Wilhelm V to Renata of Lothringen in the 16th century. It includes a joust between knights representing Bayern and Lothringen ... Bayern winning!

That's followed by the bottom half, celebrating the end of a horrific plague ... with barrel makers publicly dancing, showing the townsfolk that it was safe to return to the streets!

At the very end, a golden bird at the top of the Glockenspiel chirps to let you know it's over.

We also visited the world famous Hofbräuhaus ... established in 1589 by this same Duke Wilhelm V ... it was a blast, with a mug of its home brew running 50 Pfennig ... 100 Pfennig then roughly equal to a quarter.

Germany is famous for its beer and I guess Das Hofbräuhaus is the most famous Bier Halle in the world ... but its beer didn't quite live up to its reputation ... the best Bier was the home brew found in Bayern's Rathskellers(cityhall cellers) ... smooth as glass, but with a kick what could put you on your fanny. I speak from experience!

Our final day in München was spent at the Münchner Tierpark ... again snowing, but it was great and different from Atlanta's Grant Part ... open, lots of moats, not many cages. Took lots of pictures, few survived.

We took a short cut back ... got lost, of course ... stopped at a small country store out in the middle of nowhere to ask for help and directions ... I'll never forget saying "Entschuldigen Sie mir bitte ... vielleicht können Sie mir helfen. Ich habe meinen Weg nach Fürth volieren ... "

Simple, right? Translation: Excuse me please, perhaps you can help me ... I've lost my way back to Fürth.

Wrong ... I think I asked him 30 times or more, for close to an hour ... all he wanted to do was sell me ham and roast beef! We did get full on the samples and bought some candy ... but never got no directions.

We backtracked to the zoo, and then to the hotel for another night of shrimp salad ... next day back to Fürth!

I shared the story with the maître d'hôtel ... and he understood exactly what I had said to the storekeeper ... no problem. After dinner, he offered a possible explanation for the confusion ... "Fleish" is the German word for meat ... like flesh, but with an "ei" ... while "vielleicht" means perhaps. It had to be "the" explanation ... ... the "v" in German is pronounced like our "f" ... while their "w" is like our "v" ... e.g. "Volkswagen" ... people's car(wagon) ... is pronounced Folks Vagen.

I was trying to say perhaps ... "fee-liecht" but he was hearing meat ... "fleich"

I know that I have a long standing and well deserved reputation for being difficult to understand, but Germans are no different that bloggers ... they hear what they want to hear!

That was sure better than workin'!!

People complain about army food ... I know I did, calf's liver, onions and potatoes ... day after day. Me and calf's liver weren't no strangers when I joined up ... it weren't exactly my favorite, but Mama made it taste pretty good and we had it often, especially during the war. Well, calf's liver turned out to be a fair weather friend ... soon as I left the Service, it up and plum disappeared and I ain't seen hide nor hair of it since!

It wasn't the food ... the army got the best, methinks ... it's what they did with it after they got it!

We participated in the army's war games from time to time ... shortly after our trip to München, there was a three day exercise and the colonel had me go to the Mess Hall ... get six steaks, two dozen eggs, some frozen ears of corn and some potatoes.

Them steaks were NY Strips, over an inch thick, Angus methinks ... whoa baby!

He supplied the charcoal grill, spices and such ... and I did the cooking! Them steaks were good! Army life was tough, especially during the winter, at least for them poor boys really doing the soldiering!

Ours was an important job ... intercepting and decoding messages, guarding and testing top secret equipment, programming computers, stuff like that ... and making sure the food was of acceptable quality.

In early December, I was selected as one of the bowlers representing our battalion in an Army Bowling Tournament held in Stuttgart ... we drove, snowed the entire trip which took nearly 4 hours, methinks. The team came in second ... I had the highest three game series in the tournament, finishing second in the singles, doubles, and all events as well.

I might have won singles and all events ... shudda, wudda, cudda ... two things got in the way ... My singles series was the first of that day's competition and a little snow left on the approach went unnoticed ... I fouled on my second shot and they wouldn't gimme a muligan!

Then, on the final day of the tournament, I somehow left my bowling shirt in the motel where we were staying ... house rules wouldn't allow me to bowl in a tee shirt on Sunday, so I bowled in my long sleeved wool sweater ... until the 5th frame, when my wife returned with the shirt. Who knows how it would have otherwise turned out ... but I finished with six in a row, missing the "all events" title by 4 four pins!

After Christmas, I became a "short timer" ... going home in March ... there was still much to do and see, and we were running out of time!

Unfortunately, my cajun friend wouldn't work for money ... not even $50, but, thinking he was safe, he said he'd do it for some good cajun Filé Gumbo! I told him that Filé Gumbo was my wife's specialty ... and that she would love to fix it, especially for him!

She was real sweet, real smart and she was real pretty ... but one thing she wasn't ... was a real cook! Of course, we both knew what Filé Gumbo was, everybody did ... Ole Hank told us all about it, right along with Jambalaya and a crawfish pie ... me oh my oh!

A little smelling salts and rye whisky was all it took to revive her ... that and a bunch of promises ... and, we were off to find a cookbook! She wrote down all the ingredients and while she studied the instructions of every recipe she could find, I went in search of a big pot and those things we needed ... found everything, save one ... the danged filé powder!!

We had to fake that ... ground up tea mixed with drippings from the chicken ... we didn't know what it was supposed to taste like ... but being cajun, we figured it had to be hot and spicy. We added enough finely ground pepper, red and black, to disguise anything ... seemed like we cooked it forever ... just getting within 50 yards of the apartment meant being in harm's way ... the pepper in the air really burned your eyes.

Joe showed up on schedule ... with some flowers and a bottle of wein! The air was heavy, filled more with nervous tension from anticipation of disaster than pepper ... the wine eased the things a bit ... but, some disasters just can't be avoided ... especially when your guest say's "that smells good ... let's eat!"

Me wife did us proud ... the rice, the chicken ... she had told me she couldn't boil water ... but, it was really very good ... the pepper was something else!

I asked Joe how he liked it ... "well, it's good and I like it ... doesn't taste like what I'm used to ... and it's mighty spicy ... but, I think that's just because I've not had any cajun food in so long ... need to get back in practice" ... if that's not a quote, it's a leaner.

We watched in amazement as he helped himself to another full serving!

Bags packed, we made reservations at a nice hotel in the historic old town district of Innsbrück, Austria ... leaving early the next day, taking our time and seeing the sights ... it was all good, but nothing to quite compare to Innsbrück itself, especially looking up at the mountains from down in the city!

Before we knew it, it had turned dark ... and danged if I could find the hotel, though we saw it from a distance just after we arrived. We ate, asked for and received directions but, still couldn't find it ... it was about 10 when we pulled off the road to rest and regroup. It was a beautiful spot ... flat, an unobstructed view of their famous mountains, staring us right in the face ... awesome!

After a while we fell asleep, taking full advantage of the reclining seats that went all the way back ... and our wool blankets, courtesy of the US Army. We slept soundly until about 5:30, as it began to get light ... couldn't really see anything yet ... not light, just less dark.

It wasn't very long before we started to make out what looked like small trees some distance out in front in of us ... and then it happened ... like something out of one of Lamar's many misadventures. A giant monster starting eating those things up ... first one, then another! We stared in disbelief ... and then it was gone! 100% true ... without exaggeration!

Thank goodness ... a sigh of relief ... time to get out of Dodge ... but which way was out ... where was the entrance to this parking lot? Where was the sun?

We sat in horror as that thing reappeared, consuming more of whatever they were ... and then it headed for us, no mistake! It was lighter now, and as we were giving up all hope of escape, we suddenly realized, both at the same time, that the monster was only the fog!

We sat and laughed, for several minutes while the sun came up ... what a way to start the day!

We could now see clearly ... signs just in front of us ... Achtung! dünnes Eis ... well, that's nice ... what did it mean? Unfortunately, I knew ... loosely translated, it meant ... "you were right the first time, dummy ... it's past time to get out of Dodge!"

A more literal translation, "Danger! - thin ice" ... our parking lot was no parking lot atall ... we were well out into a large lake, all by ourselves!

We eased that baby out of there ... slow, steady and easy! We had just had enough excitement to last all of 1965 ... and here it was, just barely the second week of January.

We hadn't been in any real danger ... easy for them to say ... and for me, 45 years later ... but we didn't know that then ... not while it was happening. We found the hotel, spent the rest of that day and most of the next sightseeing in and around Innsbrück.

There's a whole bunch of stuff to see and do and methinks we seen and done it all ... maybe it's a woods and trees type thing but I couldn't tell you one specific thing we done or seen ... except for that huge mountain that seemed to follow us everywhere we went.

Afraid to drive it during the day with no speed limit and crazy local drivers passing on curves, we left in the late afternoon and headed toward Festung Kufstein ... about 50 miles form Innsbruch, methinks.

We got to see the town all litted up ... drove to the Schloss, well almost ... the drive was too slippery for us and we slid back down twice, then quit while we were ahead!

Unable to reach our intended lodgings, we decided to go ahead and drive to Salzburg that night ... mostly uneventful, but we went down two looong, narrow one-way streets the wrong way ... in different Dorfs(small villages) ... in a span of about two hours ... folks were real nice and let us know it too.

Driving on narrow winding roads through the Alps is fun, especially at night when you can't see how dangerous it is!

We spent the night, what was left of it ... at the Hotel Leopoldskron in Salzburg ... actually part of a beautiful old castle where they had filmed "Sound of Music" back during the Spring, methinks, but we didn't realize that at the time ... it was past midnight.

Early next day, we drove to Festung Hohensalzburg

We spent the entire morning in the Festung Museum ... unbelievable ... a super extensive collection of medieval stuff ... knight's armour, mail, swords, shields ... all types of tools, masks, and weaponry ... audio tapes and written programs in several languages supporting a tour of the many exhibits!

That was truly fantastic ... could have spent a week or two there, maybe longer. Them Knights were strong ... I couldn't even pick up one their broad swords, though they let me try ... nor could I carry their mail!

I used 8 rolls of film, just in the Salzburg museums ... it was forbidden, but I did it. Used our single reflex camera too, so I'd know what I shot ... would have been easier just to buy their prints, but not as much fun!

We had lunch in Salzburg's Stiftskeller St. Peter ... located within the walls of Saint Peter's Archabbey, said to be over 1200 years old. Then a walk to Das Benediktinen-Frauenstift Nonnberg ... das älteste noch bestehende christliche Frauenkloster in der Welt ... that is to say, Nonnberg Abbey is the oldest nunnery in the world, still existing.

They said Maria Von Trapp was schooled there ... not sure.

From there to the Salzburg Cathedral (Salzburger Dom) where Mozart was baptized and performed ... we saw an organ on which he practiced, in a building just up the street. The thing that impressed me most were the giant triple entrance doors ... but, the statues and paintings, especially those of the Madonna were awesome ... inspiring! The Dom was first established in the early 17th century ... but some of the works it held supposedly dated back to the 1st!

In that immediate area was a large working sundial of the Dom's vintage ... I can attest to that. Like the runaway cart toward the end of the movie "Patton" ... one with what I thought was my name on it, appeared, seemingly from out of nowhere as I was engrossed watching that ancient time piece.

It missed me, just barely!

The weather turned sour that afternoon, with storms forecast for the next day ... so we forwent our day tour in Burchest garden and headed back to München, again more baby shrimp salad ... next day back to Fürth.

Upon returning to Fürth, I had the all that film developed ... at least they so said ... every one taken in the museums were solid black, while all the rest turned out great. They said I must've did something wrong ... the only thing I done wrong was to take the film to them for developing, thats what I think! I was a disaster that could have been worse, had we not sent postcards from the Salzburg Museums to friends and family.

I got real sick toward the end of January, 1965 ... stomach problems ... unbelievable nausea, acid indigestion ... and acid reflux, though they didn't call that back then ... and it was more painful than a big splinter in your big toe!

The doctors said I had a hyperactive vagus nerve and probably ulcers ... it could be taken fixed with surgery ... the kicker being an additional six months in the service of our country.

"Probably ulcers" ain't ulcers when filling out an insurance application ... and I needed more insurance, being married and all ... besides I didn't relish getting being cut on ... so I opted not to do that, asking the doctor ... "how should it be treated assuming it's an ulcer, without an operation?"

Then I found out that I would be going on an seven day boat ride instead of a seven hour flight home ... a boat ride with an upset, nervous stomach. Oh, the humanity!

Being a short timer meant that I'd been there a long time ... and oh how I wanted to go home! But, it had its advantages ... I got time off for packing up our stuff ... getting it all shipped, taking the car up to Bremerhaven, the wife to Frankfurt ... not much time for soldierin' or work!

It seemed like just yesterday that I had first arrived in Germany and gone into Nürenberg with a friend from the Army's Language School ... the first time I tried to put my newly learned Deutch to practical use. We had studied about the Nürenberg Frauenkirche(Church Of Our Lady) and I wanted to see it ... looked everywhere but never saw it.

In my best German, I asked several people "Können Sie mir sagen wo das Frauenkirche ist?" ... always the same .. "Nein, bitte"

In English, "Can you tell me where the Church of Our Lady is?"

Ready to give up in frustration, I made one final attempt ... asking a little old lady of maybe 110 ... who thought for a while before pointing and answering in rather good English ... "It's right over there! And young man, she's a female!"

Well, me best had not been best enough, though the words were ... "das Frauenkirche" would have been correct if "Frauenkirche" was neuter ... "die" is the female "the"

I never made that mistake again but what I remember most is that though I was within 100 yards of the church, nobody I had asked tumbled to what it was that I was asking. It is remindful of case sensitive computer code!

My friend and I found a small bistro ... "Cafe Prinz" ... and went inside for a beer ... six beers and six Bratwürst later I was dubbed "Der Bratwürst Kid" by its patrons!

We learned in school and from the army that it was improper to tip as such things were included in the bill but I left DM 5.00 for the waitress(about $1.25) ... you would have too, had you seen her! I had such a good time that I was back there in less than a week ...

It turned out that we were the first Americans not to have been thrown out of the place since it was reopened after the war. The waitress was the daughter of the owner. We ate and drank ... they tried to teach me a German card game ... and they wouldn't let me pay for anything! Unfortunately, some communists frequented the place and it became off limits when I so reported.

One of our playtoys was a "top secret" reconnaissance plane ... wasn't really anything special 'bout the plane but the equipment was ... real special. When radar fixed on that plane, it knew it and they could determine the location of the radar real fast ... and it had a special computer for determining real distances between two points, better than any of its counterparts too.

It was housed in a special hanger, together with some big magnesium helicopters that burned up real fast on occasion.

During the reign of das Dritte Reich, symbolism was big noise, and building facades throughout Germany carried Nazi emblems of many shapes, sizes and composition; including murals, elaborate blasted carvings, and stone engravings. When their 1000 years abruptly ended in 1945, them suckers quickly disappeared!

Twenty years later there weren't any, that's for sure!

Or so we thought ...

Indeed, our hangar had one ... the last one methinks ... das Hoheitszeichen, the Nazi Germany national symbol. How it had gone unnoticed all them years was anybody's guess ... mine was that it was hastily packed and covered up with dirt, mud, and stuff ... and erosion had given it another hour upon the stage.

Well, more than hour ... the decision was made to clean it, fill it with mortar and smooth it, with a local civilian crew being hired for the job. Five showed up, sometime after ten with all the required stuff, including a large extension ladder, Bier and lunch ... lots of Bier.

The boss was the first to go up to view and evaluate the situation ... after maybe 10 minutes, he came down and had a beer while others took their turn.

By then, the boss had evidently forgotten something and went back up for another view ... came back down and they broke for lunch and more beer!

After lunch, they again went through the same routine ... several times I urged "schnell, schnell" (faster) to which they responded in kind "langsam, langsam" ... by day's end, they had but managed to remove the loose dirt and debris and clean the area, promising to return the next morning to finish the job.

The next morning, they each took their turn ... and their time ... climbing the ladder, same as before but with one difference ... they had an audience of maybe 25 cheering them on.

I have to admit, they knew their stuff and did a good job ... finishing just before dark.

Encouraged by our "success" with Filé Gumbo, I decided to try me mama's recipe for chocolate fudge ... I followed the instructions to the letter and it turned out great!!

Well, it did ... on the third attempt, after an expensive transatlantic phone call. The first two disasters wouldn't harden, even when left overnight in the freezer but that third attempt was a great success. I did the same thing all three times ...

Time went by fast ... too fast, and not fast enough.

Unbelievably, my stomach calmed down two days before departure ... lots of folks got seasick on the ride home but not me, I was stomach problem free, none whatsoever!

To pass the time during the evenings, they scheduled gigantic Bingo Games ... $2 a card, three for $5. Each game was a bit different, with the final game being a coverall for money remaining from what had been taken in.

The first night out, there was a big crowd and the games went quick ... seemed like everybody at our table won but me ... then I went and won the coverall for over $900!

Funny, there weren't anymore Bingo games ... we figured it must have been somehow rigged so that the crew won more than its fair share ... and something went wrong!

I remember playing poker with one fellow that was continually exaggerating the truth, if not telling lies ... a purposeful distraction, methinks. I said to him "You're a "nefarious prevaricator" ... to which he replied "Oh no man, I'm half Dutch and half Indian" ... probably the only time that he told the truth!

On the last night out, a rather tall kid that I had earlier met came up to me and asked what I planned to do after leaving the Service ... "think I'll try buying and selling stock" ... "really, I'm a farmer too!" He was serious, but his reason for asking had nothing to do with farming ... he had been drafted to play professional basketball for the Knicks and wanted me to be his agent!
Another of my many missed opportunities!

Finally, we got to see that lady with the torch what gives goose bumps to so many ... did me!

That final day came an went ... thought it never would ... we were gathered in this huge enclosure, sans air conditioning... big fans ... and the entire morning seemed designed to get folks to reenlist ... tempting ... close, but no cigar.

We drove to visit friends in upper state New York ... but, by week's end, we were headed to Atlanta, where all had been forgiven ... and following weekend visited my folks in Chattanooga. That was an adventure too ... we drove at night ... I75, and US 41 where the Interstate wasn't completed.

Just before the last Georgia Exit(more now) we were stopped by a Deputy Sheriff ... said we were speeding ... doing 80 going up a steep grade as we approached Chattanooga. That's what he said ... we followed him into the same little town where we had been married, some six months earlier.

It was wet and cold ... he got what he wanted ... hot coffee, a warm office, and someone with whom to talk. We had to post a $25 dollar bail which we would forfeit if we failed to appear in court ... but we got some coffee too.

Truth is, that Rambler wouldn't do 80 up that hill, even if we had been so inclined ... which we weren't, not at night in that rain! The real reason he stopped us was that he had never seen European Plates before and wanted to check us out ... he so admitted, but didn't give us back our $25!

Remember the lost luggage?

It never did show up ... I had filed a claim as soon as they would allow ... the value of one bag and its contents easily exceeded the maximum payable on both. The claim still had not been paid ... and probably never would have been paid, had Daddy not contacted one of his friends at Delta.

Nobody challenged the validity of the claim ... the problem was that three airlines were involved and for some reason they couldn't determine where it was lost and who was liable ... maybe the prepaid ticket confused them.

Daddy followed up again that weekend and I finally received a check for $600 in May.

I found work with a consulting firm in Atlanta and continued with my Actuarial studies ... choosing not to rejoin my father's company ... I wanted to make it on my own not be known just as Mr. Mac's son ... probably a mistake!

Yes, stationed in Atlanta, but again not stationary ... over that year and the next seven, visited many national parks ... spending time in 49 of the 50 ... all except Alaska ... including our planned three weeks in Hawaii.

Though we had many adventures, including our pullin' in a couple of big Sails at the same time during a squall off Key West but none were better than that time spent in Germany and Austria.

For them what don't know ... if you ever catch a Sail and don't want to release it or have it mounted, smoked sailfish is as good as it gets!

Though I followed that army doctor's advice, a stitch in time, would have saved more than nine ... I continued to have stomach problems and some fifteen years later, they pumped 24 pints of blood through me during an emergency operation, saving my life after that acid finally ate through the main artery in me stomach.

Unfortunately, things didn't work out for us ... but them were good times, better than that! I once forgot her birthday ... well, I really didn't ... I just forgot mine!

Problem was, we shared the same one!

Not long ago, she told me privately that it pleased her that I had found a real good one in Carol ... strange, Carol said the same of her!

Well, not so strange, I agree with both of them!

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Bob's Magic Moments - Just A Few

2009-09-10T11:21:00.000-07:00

I worked for the same company as my father, during the summers while in college and then before entering the service. He was the company's chief marketing officer and I, its "Assistant to the Actuary" ... he, the actuary, liked cream in his coffee ... but no, it wasn't my job to get him coffee.

One day, I was unexpectedly called to Daddy's office ... the first time I'd ever been to the sixth floor, as memory serves ... biggest desk in the biggest office I'd ever seen, marble floor, mahogany waste can and private restroom.

He and his staff, the company's marketing vice presidents, were having a meeting ... they had all known me for years, but never in a business setting ... and here I was, center stage! Daddy asked his secretary to close the door and gave instructions that we were not to be disturbed. What did they want with me, what had I done?

To my great surprise and greater relief, he moved some stuff from one edge of his desk and indicated that as my seat ... definitely not Daddy!

At his behest, the Actuary had recently revised the way an agent's weekly paycheck was determined so as to reduce fluctuations. I was familiar with the problem and with the new system ... is was a simple 13 week rolling average that replaced the existing system where the agent's pay changed quarterly. I had seen the explanatory materials and thought that it had been well presented ... and well received.

Daddy explained that the agents hated the system because it was too complex for them to understand ... that even the five of them were having some trouble. Simply put, they didn't understand it and he wanted me to explain it to them ... I was sworn to secrecy ... truly was a magic moment!

They gathered 'round ... and I explained, best I could. Expecting kudos, I closed with "I told you it was easy ... is everything clear? ... any questions?" ...

Indeed it was a magic moment ... being asked to Daddy's office and asked to do something important. However, that bubble was burst when the only response was ... "Yes Bobby, it's clear as mud! "My reputation for being difficult to understand is well established; here in the Shop, and on other blogs, but I doubt that any suspected that it was a disease of such long duration.

The new system was short lived, but they were wrong ... the agents did understand ... we got a call, memo or letter every time they thought a mistake had been made ... almost always a few pennies due to rounding.

Daddy goodnaturedly tried to place the fault at my door ... Mama would have none of it ... she said the problem was that the marketing department felt they were left out of the developmental process by the actuary ... Mama was a smart lady. Well, regardless, I honored my oath to remain silent ... until long after all were retired.

Like many of you, the first person with whom I played games was my mother ... she taught me to pray too "Now I lay me down to sleep (my only memorized prayer other the "Lord's"); ... my first song, "Jesus Loves Me" ... I think my second was "Walking The Floor Over You" by Mr. Tubb, Sr. My ABC's ... to bowl ... how to make fudge ... all magic moments, courtesy of me mamma.

Four things were a given at our house ... the Atlanta Constitution at the breakfast table, a simple Blessing said at every meal, freshly made cornbread with supper, and Daddy in dress shirt and tie, regardless of what he was doing ... washing the car, tending the garden or playing scrabble.

Mama always gave thanks at breakfast and lunch ... Daddy at supper. My big break came at Sunday dinner, with company no less ... "Bobby, you say the prayer" ... startled, my mind went blank but after what seemed an eternity, came "Now I lay me down to sleep ..."

For over 40 years, we played Scrabble ... Mama and me ... sometimes with family but usually the cutthroat, two player variety ... a quarter, half dollar, dollar a game. Her style was different from mine. We both were defense oriented but she attempted to maximize the utility of each play, while I went for words she didn't know, hoping for a challenge ... and the big play; double and triple word scores, and seven letter word bonuses.

While I averaged over one bonus qualifying word of seven or more letters per game, I honestly can't remember her ever so doing ... it wasn't her style and she didn't have the patience.

Over the years, I won about two times out of three ... from a combination of what she called "bonuses, cheating and luck" ... but luck had nothing to do with it!

We held the 1st Annual McBrayer World Scrabble Grand Championship in Mama's hometown; Bell Buckle, Tennessee ... under a shade tree on its main street, following a great country ham, eggs and biscuits breakfast. Breakfast was free, courtsey of the waitress and a triple or nothing bet that she couldn't guess Mama's age within 10 years ... she hit it on the nose ... MY age, that is. Truly a magic moment!!

Four players ... One Trophy (memento from the Opryland Hotel, site of an earlier match) ... it was fun ... and another magic moment for I led for the entire game while poor Mama had a bad day and brought up the rear.

Well, until a seven letter word ... on a triple word score ... on the last play of the game ... Mama finally had her bonus word ... eternal!

She passed away the next year, before we could hold the 2nd Annual World Championship. We thought about it, long and hard ... decided against ... no good reason to hold another tournament ... we already had our Grand Champion ... undefeated, eternal, and magical!

My favorite magic moment? It's one of them, that's for sure! Tied, methinks with Miss Carol saying YES; seeing Robbie just seconds after he was born; meeting Country Brown and my favorite Crackers; that visit to Daddy's office; my first 300 game, my only hole in one ... a sailboat ride, Superbowl XV, Estes Park and a few more that are reserved for another day ... all still bring goosebumps, chills, and smiles!

Another anecdote involving Mama started when, as a Georgia Tech freshman I wrote a paper covering some fundamental theorems of matricies ... and ended 15 months later. Good paper, maybe my best work ever ... it received an "A" ... two magic moments ... one for Sam Nunn's roommate ... he got the "A", passed the course with a "B" and I got $25!!

Mama never let me live it down ... maybe the maddest I've ever seen her ... insisted I give that money back!

I took the same course a year later ... had the same test too, only this time it was an in class, midterm examination. Qne theorem was on back of the last page of the test, which I unfortunately overlooked. Payback I guess, the test was graded on the curve and I received a "D" ... I too got a "B" in the course ... another magic moment, this time for Mama! Well, "always mind your mamma" is a good rule but there are exceptions to every rule.

Other Moments ... lesser perhaps, but still magic

Recently, I was telling our "Miss Know It All" of the songs I remember singing to and with Mama ... those first two early ones plus "Caldonia" (1945), "Five Minutes More" (1946), "Open The Door, Richard"(1947) and "Bushel and a Peck" (1950).

Carol started singing ... "Jesus loves me! This I know, for the Bible tells me so; Little ones to Him belong, They are weak but He is strong" ... she really does know it all!

The magic moment, or maybe the end of one I guess ... as you can imagine, I "learned" my first song when I was very young and over the years, I would sing and hum it ... mostly to family and myself, thank goodness ... for I always sang "little one stool, him belong, they are weak but he is strong" ... never understood that ... finally, after all these years of pondering, I've learned the words ... goodness!

... and another

My father's father's mother was a great lady ... quiet and reserved but when she talked, you listened. She reserved the money for his higher education but Daddy elected to join his uncle and work in Atlanta, for it was 1930.

Growing up, I didn't really know her that well ... we would visit my uncles, grandparents at Christmas and on weekends, a few times each year but we would only see her on those ocassions when she was visiting my grandparents. On those trips, Georgia red clay took on a special meaning for us ... deep ruts in the dirt roads of rural northwest Georgia. Oldest grandchildren and great-grandchildren get special treatment when they're young ... homemade teacakes were my favorite ... times were good!

One Sunday during a Sunday School prayer, a strange feeling came over me ... like a chill ... thought I was sick, but it was just this very strong feeling that something was wrong ... someone had died. Before Church, I told Mama ... and again, going home ... but, "Why would you think that? Nobody you know is ill ... neither family nor friends" ... not a quote, but close.

Yes, my great-grandmother had unexpectedly died at age 92, methinks ... at 9:30 that morning, yes the very same time of that chilly feeling ... we got the call about an hour after arriving home. Coincidence? Perhaps, but I remember having that feeling but once in my lifetime ... some things we can't explain.

... and one more

One Sunday, several years back, we were watching some NFI event and the question was asked "what's the most yards ever lost in a play from the line of scrimmage in an NFL game?" ... I didn't know the answer but, being me, I made one up and shouted 57 yards at the TV ... and, doggone if it wasn't right! Had to go change my clothes ... well, almost.

A few weeks later, we were visiting family, none of whom are NFL football fans, and I decided to relate the story at the dinner table ... asking the question ... I nearly choked when my brother guessed 57 yards!

My brother isn't above having fun at my expense but he swears that he had neither seen the program nor known the answer ... and though it's irrational, I believe him! Regardless, we had a good time with it, making that a magic moment of the first order!

Me and Abner

2009-09-09T19:13:00.000-07:00

Déjà Vu, All Over Again ... maybe it's cause you've seen it before ... first time I wrote about this was way back in the last century ... and later on my short lived "Baseball's Magic Moments" Blog in December, 2007. We've now combined our "Magic Moment Repositories" ... "Baseball" and "Life" into one "Magic Moments" Special Feature ... this is a copy of the Baseball's Magic Moments blog's first Lead Post, presented here for your enjoyment and was itself a magic moment for some of us!

When I was growing up, the little stories told by players, writers and announcers ... and former players ... like Luke Appling and Dixie Walker ... were as much a part of the game for me as was the game itself ... playing, watching, and listening.

They knew how to tell a good story ... always interesting, funny to boot!

"We're always on the outside looking in" ... but those stories were magical ... just hearing 'em made me feel like an insider!

Guess most everyone ever connected with the game has had a good story or ten ... many never told, many lost forever ...

Me, back in my earlier days ... actually, it’s of old Abner himself, ... one I took while we were trying to decide what to call this new game we had done invented. Abner wanted to call it “Cricket” but I didn’t think it would be, since the British were already using that name ... and “Grasshopper” just sounded too Chinese; though the pasture was full of ‘em.

The truth is, we really didn’t have anything good upon which to base the ball game’s name ... which I told some fool reporter. He was new, didn’t take any notes, but I did give him that picture. By the time he got back and wrote the story, he had plum forgot everything I had told him ‘cept the part 'bout “base ball game’s name” ... well, that’s how the game got called baseball and why Abner got all the credit, as I had written his name on the back of that picture ... and why I became a journalist in self defense.

Baseball has certainly changed since we first thunk it up … from cow pastures to gigantic entertainment complexes ... we don’t see anything like HOF Charley Radbourn’s magical 60 win season with 73 games started, 73 complete games, 441 strikeouts, 679 innings, and a 1.38 ERA ... Old Hoss liked to finish what he started!

Today it’s an international business with little leagues and big leagues ... with unions, agents and multimillionaire players. The game is ever changing ... why there’s even some talk of pitchers being excused from hitting and players taking drugs to help them perform better. Why the next thing we know, there’ll be interleague play, home run exhibitions, and night games at Wrigley!

I'm just a funnin' ... but them things could happen!

One thing that hasn’t and will likely never change … all baseball fans have their favorite stories, their memories ... their magic moments. When I think the game's magic moments, I always think of ...

The Babe’s magical day at Forbes field in 1935,
Lou Gehrig’s 1939 farewell speech,
Joe's Streak of 56 and 75 out of 76
Bobby Thomson’s shot heard round the world in 1951,
Willie Mays’ amazing catch in the 1954 Series,
Sid Bream’s famous slide to win the 1992 NLCS, and
The Red Sox’s amazing 2004 comeback against the Yankees

Like everyone else, I have my personal magical Moments too ...

I grew up in Atlanta and Daddy started taking me to games before I can remember and the Braves have always been my favorite major league team. Of course, it was the Atlanta Crackers that I loved, the one with whom I grew up ... we had great teams in the forties and early fifties with players like Country Brown, Gene Verble, Eddie Mathews, Art Fowler, Dick Donovan and Ebba St. Claire ... with Kiki Cuyler, Dixie Walker and Whitlow Wyatt managing and coaching them ... and with Ernie Harwell and Jim Woods calling the action ... Ed Danforth and Furman Bisher writing it up!

Daddy and Earl Mann, the team’s GM and owner were friends and, though I didn’t know it, they had arranged for me to meet some of my favorite players at the old Ponce De Leon hotel for lunch ... My Magic Moment! But, fate took a cruel hand and on that morning, I had oral surgery involving the removal of one of my upper front teeth ... looked a mess, face swollen and could neither talk nor eat.

As we were driving home down Ponce De Leon Avenue, Daddy asked if I would like to stop by the hotel for a coke and some soup ... and, “who knows, we might see a player or two” ... and so we did. The lunchroom looked empty, except for one large group ... and I was surprised when someone yelled out ... “Mr. Mac!” We went over and there they were ... Mr. Mann, Dixie Walker, Country Brown, Gene Verble, Eddie Mathews, Ebba St. Clair, and Jim Woods too!! They were expecting us ... I was just in awe, meeting my favorite players and with Jim Woods telling how he recreated the away games, and “Country” showing me how to drag bunt.

I really don’t remember many details except that I spilled Coca Cola all over me, trying to drink from a straw ... but later that year, I had another magic moment when Dr. Newton let me sit with the team on “Cracker’s Day” at Druid Hills Baptist Church.

The Braves came to Atlanta in 1966 and I saw us lose that first game to the Pirates, 3-2 in extra innings. Work took me from Georgia to South Dakota, Pennsylvania, Indiana, Texas, Ohio, and Tennessee but I've remained a loyal Braves' Fan and followed the team on radio and TV ... we've had some great "play-by-play" announcers with the likes of Milo Hamilton, Skip Caray, Pete Van Wieren, Don Sutton, Joe Simpson, Ernie Johnson, Jr. and of course, his dad ... my favorite of all, the "Voice of the Braves", Ernie Johnson, Sr.

Today's Internet is a wonderful venue where baseball fans from around the globe can meet, make friends and share their favorite stories, their memories … their magic moments. This is the placeto do exactly that and we hope also to feature favorite stories and memories of players, sportscasters, and others who have helped give us some of ours!

Surely we find a way to encourage both current and former “insiders” (radio and TV sportscasters, sportswriters, players, managers, and coaches from the little leagues to the Majors) to contribute stories and participate in both this and the “Braves and Stuff” blogs ... can you imagine the fantastic stories and insights those folks could share?!

The trouble is that it’s danged difficult for folks like us to gain access to folks like them ... but every journey begins with a single step and everyone is invited to spread the word, especially to any of those wonderful “insiders” whom you might know!

Anyone having stories or special topics they’d like to have featured on the Blog ... need only to let me know ... and, we’d love to have guest hosts from that broad community of “insiders” who would share their memories, stories and magic moments ... and respond to our questions and comments!

You can make it happen!

Short lived maybe, but the Magic Moments shared on that old blog were exactly that ... some were short, some were long .... all were magic ... you be da Judge!

The three longest ... from our Proprietor, the "Most Honorable Southern Jackass," arkansashillbilly" and "jasoninmaine" ... are included in the archives as separate posts.

Actually, the "Hillbilly" shared two ... here's the first and shorter.

Without a doubt, Sid Bream in ‘92 (with the Skip Caray commentary and Joe Simpson chuckling at the end) still sends chill bumps across my arms like no other play in Baseball history. I was 13 years old, sitting in the living room of our old house with my dad, and I nearly rattled the pictures off the walls from jumping up and down. There is a YouTube clip of that play that I have watched over and over.

“There’s a lot of room in right center. If he hits it there we can dance in the streets….The one-one pitch. LINE DRIVE, LEFT FIELD…ONE RUN IS IN!!!! HERE COMES BREAM….HERE’S THE THROW TO THE PLATE…HE IIIISSS, SAFE!!!! BRAVES WIN!!!! BRAVES WIN!!!! BRAVES WIN!!!!” –Skip Caray

From our Mr Gil ...

Good morning Bob, J ... Wonderful story, I am afraid the closest I ever got to meeting my idols was from the standing room only section at old Parker Field when the Yankees came to play their farm hands the Richmond Vees. I still remember though my dad picking up my brother and I from school early that day to take us to the game. Unfortunately, Micky Mantle did not play but we did get to see Yogi.

And Journalist Jimmy Smith ...

is that you, journalist bob? permit this journalist to recount a baseball memory - - - ponce de leon ballpark. atlanta crackers. joe nossek. good player on a bad team. look it up. signed this young fan’s baseball glove. of course, jimmy smith was just a little baby at the time.

Prompting my ...

I remember your having mentioned Joe Nossek in the past, but just assumed he played for the Kampala Crackers, as I don’t remember his having played in Atlanta. I assume that it was in 1964 as I know he played for the Twins ... I know it was a thrill for you, something to forever keep ... and, he is better known that folks might imagine!

... do you still have “the glove“?

I had several “Southern Association” balls, some autographed, but none have survived ... we played with them mostly and they wound up lost in the woods behind our playing field or torn up from excessive use. The ball I had from my magic moment meeting was later stolen, together with an old Hamilton watch, given to me by my father, to whom it had been given when he was a boy.

Jere Pugh's Magic Moment ...

Bob,

I also grew up in Atlanta, and as a young kid loved going to see the Atlanta Crackers play at Ponce de leon park. But, most of my viewing was from the right field area where the train tracks are. I would climb the wall along Ponce de leon Ave, then shimmy up the bridge trust to watch the game. Sometimes sat on a boxcar, or one of the bulding. I was also one of those kids that hung around the front entrance during the game to catch foul balls that came over the roof of the stadium.

Like you, I thought the world of the “Atlanta Crackers” and had baseballs with autographs, especially the one with Ralph County Brown on it. I was in the Military for 20 years and moved a lot, sadly they become lost over the years. I was in Viet Nam when the Atlanta Braves came to Atlanta. I have always pulled for the Braves, for they represent my hometown.

Prompting me again ... Thanks Jere

You do bring back the memories! I used to walk those tracks from the lumberyard at the end of old Carmel Avenue to that same right field area beyond Sears ... did it hundreds of times, got down inside behind the right centerfield fences a couple of times, but not during the games ... Mama would have killed me, had she known.

I too chased foul balls from outside the front entrance and sometimes down the left field side during the game, at least until the late innings when they opened the gates.

Don’t be a stranger!!

Our resident preacher and Braves' fanatic Matthew, Dad to Walter ... back before he was Dad to Abigail ... wrote

Hey Bob. Great blog ... I have only been around since 1981, so these stories are new to me. As a Braves fan and a history buff, your recollections make for great reading.

My favorite moments were with Grandaddy (my dad’s dad) who introduced me to the Braves in the late ’80s in NE Ark, probably because the Cardinals weren’t on TV (St. Louis fans dominate our area). Anyway, from 1990 till his death in 1997, I spent almost every Friday night at their house, watching the Braves and anything else that was on TV. He worked on TVs, radios, etc. for years, and always had at least two TVs on (muted) and the Razorbacks on the radio. I’ll never forget those times.

Now my son (Walter, named after Grandaddy) is 15 months old, and I have already been teaching him to chop and sing. I’ll show him Sid’s slide, Tommy’s masterpiece in ‘95, and the great ones like Smoltzy, Mad Dog, and even some lesser known heroes like Fransisco Cabrera and Alejandro Pena. Who knows what memories he’ll post in years to come, of the Great Heap or Frenchy.

I warned you ... magical, each and every one!

SJA - Roberto Clemente

2009-03-26T18:06:00.000-07:00

My great friend Bob asked that I retell one of my favorite "magic moments" in baseball ... so I shall.

I remember many life altering events which occurred around the globe as an impressionable young boy residing in the hills and hollows of West Virginia, most of which were in the form of blurry images brought directly into our living room by way of an old floor model, black and white RCA TV. We were able to receive a breathtaking total of 8 TV stations, but at the time, that TV was my primary window to the world.

I listened in horror and shock as word of the tragic and untimely death of our young and beloved president filled the airwaves, and the seemingly endless days which followed watching as he was eventually laid to rest in Arlington. Just as shocking was the fatal shooting of Lee Harvey Oswald by Jack Ruby as he was being led from a Texas jail ... later on I would see the arrival of The Beatles to America, and their appearance on the Ed Sullivan Show ... I sat there confused and concerned about my future as the dead and dying were carted away in the jungles and rice fields of Viet Nam, while protesters and rioters burned our cities to the ground ... and I believe I saw a man walking on the moon ... and so much more ...

Among those epic events was a very magic moment in baseball ... in those days we were able to receive WTAE-TV in Pittsburgh PA, and that meant that the Pittsburgh Pirates were aired on nearly a daily basis. I hardly missed a game, and would listen intently to every word as Pirate's announcer Bob Prince called the games. The Pirates had good teams during a span of several years back then, and good players too, such as Bob Robertson, Manny Sanguillen, Mudcat Grant, Willie Stargell, Bill Mazeroski and a young fellow by the name of Roberto Clemente.

Roberto Clemente was something else ... born in small barrio San Anton in Carolina, Puerto Rico, he was the youngest of seven children. I would watch in amazement at how gracefully and effortlessly Clemente appeared as he played the game he loved. His movements were deceptive, his natural abilities made it look easy, but Clemente always gave his all, and at full speed. He played right field, and could catch a fly ball at the wall, and in one smooth motion fire it all the way to the catcher as a strike behind home plate ...yes, he was something else ...

My magic moment occurred in game six of the 1971 World Series between the Pirates and the Baltimore Orioles when slugger Frank Robinson came to the plate and launched a 300-foot fly toward Clemente that would have surely scored Merv Rettenmund who was on third base. As soon as Clemente pinched the ball in his glove, in a flash he ripped it out and rifled a strike to the awaiting catcher's mitt. Rettenmund scurried back to third base unable to score and the Orioles were held at bay. The Pirates went on the win the '71 World Series in seven games, and Roberto Clemente was named the 1971 World Series MVP ... yes, he was something else ...

Roberto Clemente was not only a great player on the baseball diamond, he was an even greater person off the field. He was a hero, especially to the Latinos. Tragically, on December 31, 1972, Clemente had endeavored to personally direct a relief mission to earthquake torn Nicaragua. Bound for destruction, Clemente and four others loaded a small DC-7 plane with much needed food and supplies. The group never made it beyond the San Juan border as the over-crowded aircraft immediately crashed into 30 feet of water in the Caribbean Sea. Speculation that cargo shifting during flight had caused the plane to go down. Rescue efforts began immediately, but there were five fatalities including Clemente, his body was never found. The entire world was in shock, especially an impressionable young boy from the hills and hollows of West Virginia ... those days are long behind me now, but that magic moment in game six of the '71 World Series is forever etched in my mind.

"He played the game of childhood dreams, with humble grace of mountain streams. He learned so early through his time, the selfless purpose of his life,

His human pride, his elegance, not in a hundred years surpassed. From far away gave us a gift, too valuable to leave adrift,

Some saw the game as being the end, he knew the end and played, he played! When in the face of human pain, some wasted time, he ran and helped,

For all who knew and didn't know, they were in front of royal grace, a modest place where rivers wed, saved us a wall of right field fence,

On holidays of cheer and joy, when smiles abound for girl and boy, there is a town down by the sea, where grown men cry on New Year's eve,

Remind me game of boyhood dreams, that men of grace knew how to play. The game's true leaders learn early in time, the selfless purpose of their lives." ... Juan A. Perez

Please share your magic moments with us --sja

Time Changes Everything ... well, almost

2008-10-17T09:22:00.000-07:00

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hello all

Listed at 6 foot, Daddy was a scrappy, albeit short starting center for his high school basketball team ... really 5 feet, 11 and 1/2 inches ... back when the center jump after every goal was the rule ... had a good two handed set shot, I'm told ... until suffering a lifetime debilitating hernia while saving his brother from drowning and, as a result, was classified 4F during the early part of the war.

I remember the war well as we spent our nights listening to the shortwave for reports from Europe, including speeches by Sir Winston and Der Führer ... and at home ... war news of course, plus Jack, Fred, Allen's Alley, Fibber & Molly, Gildersleeve, and Amos & Andy.

On weekends, we frequented Stone Mountain, Grant Park, the Farmer's Market, Atlanta's airport and train stations, and almost always the original "Old Hickory House" on the Old Bankhead Highway ... giant pork sandwich, pickle, coke and chips for 20 cents. Sometimes we took in a Crackers' game or attended a singing, especially if either The Vaughans or The McBrayer Quartet were included ... or if Big Jim Waits was on the bill.

Vacations were usually at Grandma's in Bell Buckle, between Wartrace and Fostersville ... about 50 miles south of Nashville ... an all day adventure, including a 2 hour switchback ride over Monteagle, and the last 25 miles over dirt roads. Actually, we "swung in on a vine" was how Daddy put it ... horses, cows, pigs, geese, polecats, smokehouse, outhouse, wood stove, well water, oil lamps ... Grandma had taught Mama well ... not only could she cook and sew, she could milk too!

With most of his agents in the service, many of our weekends were spent interviewing potential salesmen with Daddy ... though they didn't know it, as they were the ones making the appointments, usually with Mama ... and the practice continued into the early fifties.

Methinks we met every insurance, vacuum cleaner, encyclopedia, and kitchen utensil salesman in Atlanta during that time ... and this little boy has always remembered that they all had well rehearsed spiels ... well, most.

Daddy said "You can't tell much of anything about a man from his memorized spiel and how well it's delivered" ... so it was my job to interrupt and distract ... after a while I sometimes got the green light, but usually only on cue. The hand may be quicker than the eye, but even master magicians can sometimes use an extra ...

I remember once plugging a vacuum into an outlet that didn't work properly while the salesman was preoccupied messing up mama's rug with his demonstration "dirt" ... poor fellow, we thought he was going to cry.

One book salesman ... complete with a delightful British accent, derby, and umbrella, ... new to this country; very sincere ... had memorized his entire spiel, as well as answers to anticipated questions ... but, if you interrupted him, he didn't know what to do ... so he just started over, word for word ... time after time ... and the same was true for his answers to questions ... only worse ... seemed he knew all the questions and all the answers too, but sometimes had trouble matching them up correctly.

It was a long afternoon ... but, he was nice and we finally got him talking rather than reciting ... smart, told wonderful stories when he was was relaxed ... Daddy saw something in him and had him return ... thinking he was going to sell some books, he was offered a job instead, selling himself and insurance.

The one I remember best was a young life insurance salesman, who was obviously new on the job and nervous ... he immediately went into his spiel, asking no questions ... and uninterrupted, he pulled out his application as he completed his pitch ... attempting to close with "I think a $5,000 policy would be just right for you; don't you agree?" ... and waited for Daddy's response.

He seemed anxious as Daddy took his time, seriously considering things ... and visibly showed his disappointment when Daddy slowly responded "No" ... followed after a few seconds with "I really think I need $25,000" ... eliciting an audible squeal as excitement replaced disappointment.

I'll swear his hand shook as he started filling out the application ... we had no idea where Daddy was headed or how he was going to get out of the hole he was digging ... not until the agent asked "occupation?" ... to which Daddy proudly responded "Test Pilot" ... I was young but I knew where Daddy was going, nowhere ... he was there!

He knew that test pilots were considered the highest of occupational risks by the young man's company and that he had been instructed not to approach them ... the young man was taken aback and flustered beyond belief. I'm sure that he had never anticipated such a situation, ... and things had gone so nicely too.

He stuttered and stammered for the longest as Daddy urged the application being quickly completed and signed; more than once asking the amount of the initial premium ... and when the coverage would go into effect.

Now, it would be a mistake of the highest order to conclude that my father was a cruel man ... he was the exact opposite ... and though a stern taskmaster, he was always fair ... gave respect to everyone who deserved it and some who didn't ... received it in return.

He went from country boy, fresh out of high school ... to office boy ... to debit agent ... to District Manager in '45 ... ultimately becoming his company's top senior marketing officer with over 5,000 agents and employees under his control ... all with the same company in a career that spanned 46+ years.

He went by many names ... those who didn't know him sometimes called him Robert or Bob ... I called him Daddy; Mama called him Honey; family called him Vaughan; friends called him "Mac" or "Mister Mac" ... he usually introduced himself as "R.V. McBrayer" ... but most called him Mr. McBrayer, or McBriar ... though our grocer called us McBrides for 15 years.

To him, darn was a bad word ... firm, gentle, fair, integrity, honor and respect; those were the words most often used to describe my father ... he was indeed a gentleman.
Daddy was made to wear a suit ... that is to say, that was his natural condition. If he wasn't in a suit, chances were he was in the tub or in the bed. He went hunting, fishing ... worked in the garden, painted the house ... to ball games ... washed and waxed the car, all in a suit ... played catch and came to the dinner table that way too, sans the tie but on occasion. He really had little choice ... his wardrobe consisted of suits, dress shirts, ties, dress shoes ... and more suits.

When it came to situations such as I've described, methinks you'd be hard pressed to find aplomb and deftness equal to his ... it was fun for me, that's for sure ... that he wasn't bested by any of those fellows made his little boy proud ... but he respected each and every one, that too is for sure. "Everyone has to learn" ... that's what Daddy would say.

It was a different time, again that's for sure; but they were all made aware of what had transpired ... either during or after the fact. Most were asked to dinner, and many became friends ... that they were better for the experience was their evaluation, not mine ... now what would a little boy know about that?

Truth is, we all were, especially me.

My initial thought had been to chew the "you can't and shouldn't try to judge a man from his agenda based, well rehearsed spiel recital" rag ... but, I wound up sharing some family stuff ... and maybe something more.

Please TOGGLE Barber's POLL to OPEN and CLOSE the Poll

Here's another ... "Cajun" Dorian was a wonderful man who worked with and for Daddy for many, many years ... he had a spiel that wouldn't quit ... not memorized like those others, Cajun was just being "Cajun" ... mesmerizing his audience with his stories ... and as they came increasingly under his spell, the whoppers got bigger and bigger.

Guess I heard and loved them all, at least those appropriate for young ears ... didn't really matter what he said ... it was the "Cajun" sounds and how he said things; his own enjoyment and his wife, Miss Lucy saying, "now Clarence" ...

I first met the Dorians when I was four or five ... Mama had tried just about everything to make me stop sucking my thumb ... we went visiting and Daddy had him show me his thumb ... well, it was only half a thumb, a nub, resulting from an accident long ago but I was privileged to hear a very long and scary story ... of how he had sucked his thumb almost clean off as a boy! Scary, but not scary enough to make me stop.

Now Mr. Dorian was not one to miss a chance to tell a tale or make a sale ... and when he heard that a woman with five children had moved into a farm house a few miles up the road from where he lived, he immediately drove out to greet them ... it was the neighborly thing to do and he hoped to sell them some insurance too. One thing led to another and he found himself telling the lady some grand story ... and she was eating it up, when one of her sons came up, demanding attention with "Mama, Mama" ... but she sent him away with "Don't Interrupt, Mr. Dorian's our guest" ... "Please Mama" ... "No!"

The scene was repeated several times over a span of a few minutes ... and finally, Mr. Dorian interrupted and asked "What is it son?" ... "Mister, your car's on fire" ...

Good thing Cajun was "Cajun" and not one of those folks reciting a memorized spiel who avoided interruptions with a passion. Well, that's how Daddy told the story, and Mr. Dorian agreed ... but, Miss Lucy told it different ... according to her, that experience is what caused "Clarence" to stop memorizing, reciting and selling and start just being "Cajun".

Der Fuhrer had it his way for quite some time, but then came "D-Day" and finally, the war that had dominated our lives for so long came to an end when Harry gave 'em Hell and the order to drop number two ... times were good, as was the economy ... Saturday morning double features, complete with a serial, cartoon, and newsreel were still a dime ... in '46, "The Man" hit .365 and "Rapid Robert" struck out 348 ... no interleague play or designated hitters but St. Louis beat Boston in the Series.

Things change ... it's written in the Book. What we are; our values, our perspectives ... are greatly influenced by our beginnings. Well, those were some of mine ... and with all the changes that have taken place, Daddy's "You can't tell much of anything about a man by his memorized spiel and how well it's delivered" ... is still true!

He had a delightfully wry sense of humor ... writing prescriptions on napkins for complaining waitresses and such ... in the late 1930s, he began sporting a toothbrush moustache ala Chaplin, ... or was it Der Fürher? Only his barber knew for sure but in 1941, one of "Ma Bell's" finest reported him as a suspicious character and he spent an afternoon explaining himself to the authorities ... clean shaven for life.

He promised to give me a pocketknife when "you grow up" ... never got one ... but he gave me his wristwatch, one his father had given him. He never watched me bowl but I gave him a trophy I won in 1960 and it was on display in his office until he retired ... and in his bedroom after that. Daddy never struck 348 in one season either, but he was still quite a feller!

The young insurance salesman? Unlike Daddy, he worked for more than one company during his career ... the one with which he started three weeks before he met us, and the one lasting until his retirement.

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Arkansas Hillbilly - Wrigley Trip

2007-12-21T07:21:00.000-08:00

In the aftermath of the Mitchell Investigation, I have another magic moment to share.

August 19, 1998: I was 19 years old, and had never been out of Arkansas, Louisiana or East Texas without my parents. I loaded up with four friends of mine and we took off on our way to Chicago, Illinois. I'm sure you all remember that summer; how special it was for all baseball fans. Cubs versus Cardinals in a day game at Wrigley Field: a wonderful environment any given year, but this was the year that Roger Maris' single-season homerun record would fall, and I was there to see part of it take place.

First of all, it happened to be "Fan Clinic Day." The first 1,000 fans got to walk around on the outfield grass and watch various Cubs players and coaches give fundamental demonstrations. I must say that is the most perfect patch of grass I have ever set foot on. I believe current Braves groundskeeper Ed Mangan was their groundskeeper at the time. They had ushers lined up all along the warning track to keep the fans from picking at the ivy. We found the cutest little blonde usher and tried with all of our 19-year-old Arkansas charm and Redneck accent to get her to pick us a couple of ivy leaves for souvenir purposes, but she wouldn't budge. I did bring home a handful of grass and warning track dirt from that historic place though.

On to the game. Cubs vs. Cardinals. Sosa and McGwire. On this date, they were tied for the league lead with 47 big flies apiece. Sammy gets one he can handle and launches an absolute bomb that seemed to hang up in the sky forever before it touched down across Waveland Avenue. I've been to quite a few games in my time, and that was by-far the farthest I've ever seen a baseball go, even in batting practice. That was the first and only time Sammy pulled ahead of Big Mac in homers that summer. The Wrigley faithful were ecstatic to say the least (the Cubs were in a playoff race that season, too.)

It was short-lived, however, as McGwire came to the plate in the 9th and launched his own #48 into the basket in centerfield. Now the game was tied, and would eventually go into extra innings. McGwire's next plate appearance came in the 11th with the game still tied. He promptly dropped #49 into the shrubbery in dead center, taking the lead in the game, and in the HR department (where he never looked back).

I have never been in such an electric atmosphere in all of my life. During that summer, there was no steroid investigation. There was no Mitchell Report. There was only baseball. The nation was hypnotized by the "Great Homerun Race," and I'm proud to say that I witnessed a part of the game's history, tainted or not, in person, in such a historical setting as Wrigley Field. I strongly urge any baseball fan to visit Wrigley Field at least once in their life. That was actually my second trip...my parents took us there in 1994, and we got to see Harry Caray sing during the 7th inning stretch. Again, if you're a fan of the game, go to Wrigley, you'll never forget it.

Jason In Maine - Take Me Out To The Ted

2007-12-20T07:14:00.000-08:00

Well, I will get to how I fell in love with the Braves at a later date. For now, I will tell a story about 08/27/04 & 08/28/04. I had been a braves fan for a little over 20 years and had always dreamed of seeing them play at home with other Braves' fans. Well, for my 30th birthday, my beautiful wife decided to take me to Turner Field for a couple of games! I was ecstatic when I opened my gift and saw that the box contained Braves tickets.

I was like a little kid at Christmas time the entire time...from getting up in the morning, to driving to the airport, on the flight, and especially when getting to the Atlanta airport. I remember stepping off of the plane, and the first question I heard was, "Did the Braves win last night?" Without hesitation, I engaged in a conversation regarding the previous game as well as the upcoming series with the Giants. I looked at my wife and mentioned something to the effect of being able to get used to such conversations.

Then, we checked into the hotel right up the street from Turner Field. Things continued to get better. I told my story of being down from Maine after waiting 20 years to see the Braves play at home. I was given tickets to the 755 club and a discount on a dinner.

While in the 755 club, I looked up and saw someone I recognized. I immediately ran over to say hi to John Schuerholz. I told him that I thought he was the best GM of his era, if not of any era, and that I had once done a term paper on his leadership ability. He smiled and shook my hand. Of course, most people, including my wife, thought I was crazy!

We enjoyed some wings and then went to our seats. The game was scoreless until the 6th inning. In the top of the 6th, the Giants got to Jared Wright for 3 runs. But, the Braves would answer in the bottom half. Trailing 3-2, Chipper Jones came up with a runner on (2nd I believe) and promptly hit a go ahead 2-run HR! The place went wild. But, it was nothing in comparison to the top of the 9th. I vividly remember looking at my wife Susan, and saying, "Wait until the gate opens and Smoltzie comes running out!" Sure enough, Turner Field erupted when he came out for the top of the 9th. He struck out two-one on a nasty, nasty splitter-to preserve the victory. I think I was the last person to leave the stadium. I had to be asked to leave the seats! I could have sat there all night. They allowed us to stay for another 10 minutes or so before we left to finally get some rest after a long day.

On Saturday, we arrived at the park as soon as the gates opened. On the way, we stopped at a couple of memorabilia stands where I bought a couple of hats foreign to the state of Maine! Once in the park, we visited every part that we had access to. I had my picture taken in the 2001 dugout from the Braves Hall of Fame. I had my picture taken next to everything you could imagine, including any artifact that said "Murphy" or "Maddux". Then, we went to the Lexus level to our seats. We had a friendly back and forth with a couple of obnoxious Giants' fans, but then the Braves started to pound Jason Schmidt. Furcal went 4-5, and Paul Byrd even got in on the action by going 2-2. Schmidt was 15-4 at the time. Well, after this game he was 15-5! The Bravos touched him up for 10 hits and 6 runs (all earned) in 3 2/3 innings. We again stayed until the park closed. We then went around to where the players leave to catch a glimpse of everyone leaving with the childlike hope of getting an autograph. I didn't get an autograph, but it mattered not.

I used to talk to my grandfather, who would let me stay up late to watch the Murphy and the Braves on TBS, about someday being able to go watch a baseball game. Living humbly in Northern Maine did not constitute much confidence in reaching that goal. Gramps would always look me in the eye and tell me I would be able to accomplish many things and watch a few Braves games along the way.

Unfortunately, he passed away before I really got my life straightened out and on track. I have had the privilege of visiting places such as Mexico, Rome, Venice, Florence, Grand Cayman Island, Kauai, Jamaica, and a few others while be accompanied by my soul mate and high school sweetheart. But, when she asks me what my favorite trip was or place I would like to go back to see; I always say Turner Field...without hesitation!

Being 30 years old and being able to see a Braves game at home may not sound like much to some, but it will always hold a special place in my heart for reasons unsaid. The only thing that would have made the trip better would have been to be able to take Gramps, who always inspired and believed in me, with us.