Saturday, May 24, 2014, Memorial Day Weekend. Sitting here, looking out the window at this gorgeous day in Ohio, wanting to go out and sit in the sun, but, enjoying the cooler air in here, and watch Georgia play Baylor, ladies softball.
Every Saturday, I think of Alice Tuttle, gotten to be a habit, for some reason. I knew her husband, in Reno, Alice was a dealer at Harolds, she lived in our apartment building, and she was just a friend. She had a ritual, every Saturday morning, she cleaned her apartment. I don't know why that has stuck, but it has. She had an Electrolux Vacuum, stored in a large hassock, in her living room. Funny how some things just stick with you.
Of course, SMI's at The Citadel, Saturday Morning Inspection. EVERYTHING had a place, and had to be there, we bleached the old wooden floor, then a parade, and the rest of the day was free.
Saturday, of course, was the day off from school, Saturday morning radio shows, Big John and Sparky, Buster Brown, there were a number of radio shows, just for kids, on Saturday morning."This is my dog Tige, he lives in a shoe, I'm Buster Brown, look for me in there, too."
Memories are better than gold, but they can make you both sad, glad and happy, and cause regrets. I wish I had asked and listened to my Dad, stories of his experience in WWI. He was a "doughboy" in the trenches on the front lines. One of the few stories he related. Taking a break from his duties in communications, he left his post, left the office in the trench, and went outside for a breath of fresh air. Four of his buddies were playing poker on a makeshift table, "C'mon Dean, sit in." He chose to not do it and instead went a distance away and sat beside some empty ammunition cartons. Within moments, a shell landed in the middle of the table, killing all of his friends. He felt his guardian angel had interceded.
A plethora of stores I never heard, but an abundance of good memories to look back on.
