The "Takin' Your Sweetheart To The Drive-In!" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Going through an old box in the space above our garage when I came upon a small metal device.  Ah!  I thought I had thrown that away years ago.  It was a metal speaker about the size of a small box of candy.  But, did it bring back memories from over 50 years ago!  The device was a speaker that sat on the front window of my car when Carol and I had gone to the Comet Drive-In Theater one evening in the mid-1960s.  If my memory serves me right...the weather had turned nasty and a downpour finally arrived.  We decided it was time to head home, so I started the car and headed to the exit.  Only thing I didn't do was put the speaker back on the post in the spot where the car had been sitting.  Ripped the cord right off the post that held it.  Thought I would be in trouble if I returned it the next day, so I put it in the box above the garage and finally found it today.  The Comet Drive-In Theater was one of three drive-in movies that I can remember that filled the night sky with movie action.  The nation's first drive-in opened in 1933 in Camden, New Jersey, but the owner was way ahead of his time.  Never caught on due to the Great Depression and WWII.  But, after the war all our soldiers returned, started families and began living the lifestyle we now know as "the 50s."  

It was actually in 1949 that Mr. Harry Chertcoff planned to build a 1,000 car drive-in about four miles east of Lancaster along the Lincoln Highway.  Was going to cost him about a quarter of a million dollars.  But, it never happened.  Three more outdoor theaters were proposed in the next few years, but the only one that was ever built was that original one that Mr. Chertcoff proposed.  On May 23, 1950 the "Sky-Due" theater opended on Lincoln Highway East, at the site of what is now Tanger Outlets.  A full-page ad in the newspaper told of the opening with a playground for kids and a refreshment stand.  

Opening of the Sky-Vue

The first movie shown in the outdoor theatre was "The Green Grass of Wyoming."  There was heavy rain the first night, but that still didn't stop about 400 cars from parking in the theater to allegedly watch the movie.  By the early 1950s there were close to 1,000 drive-ins across the country.  Then in 1955, Chertcoff opened his second drive-in theater along what is not Route 283, near Flory's Mill and Cloister Drive.  Called it the "Comet" and it opened on June 22, 1955.  

Another full-page ad was posted in the local newspaper.  This time the movie was "Rhapsody" which starred Elizabeth Taylor.  Then in 1956 a Maryland-based partnership began to build a theater along Route 462 just east of Columbia.  It opened on August 9, 1956 with the movie "A Man Called Peter".  When baby-boomers reached their teen years, the number of drive-ins had grown to an all-time high in the USA of 4,063 in 1958.  A few years later I turned 16 and before long I had a 1958 Chevy Impala convertible which was a real hit at the drive-in.  

Put the top down on it and I could sit three in the front and four in the back.  Didn't make for a very romantic evening at the outdoor movies, but that was reserved for another evening the following week with my special girl.  In 1962 a battle raged in Lancaster over the long standing "Blue Laws" that forbid entertainment venues from operating on Sundays unless township residents voted to allow such operation.  Didn't bother the drive-in owners, since they probably factored in the fines in their ticket price for the Sunday movies.  

The screen of the Columbia Drive-In could be seen from
the road.  X-rated movies slowed the traffic.

Then in the early 1970s, the drive-in theater's popularity began to wane, so the owner of the Columbia Drive-In decided to show X-rated movies on his outdoor screen.  Thing about that was you could see the screen from the Route 30 Bypass.  Many would stop along side of the bypass to watch some of the movie with their binoculars.  A few accidents began to take place so the police put up signs that you couldn't park there.  Still slowed down the traffic along the highway!  It also upset the neighbors who might of had a view of the screen from their homes.  Some protested to the police department  and eventually the owner stopped showing the movies.  

In 1979, the Comet Drive-In showed its last movie on September 13.  Two days later the property was sold to a trucking company.  Two years later the Sky-Vue showed their last movie..."The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia."  That land is now the home to Lancaster Outlet City, the county's first outlet shopping mall.  In December of 1994 the Columbia announced they may close.  It wasn't until 2005 that the last drive-in movie was shown at the Columbia Theater.  But, along comes 2020 and once again three businesses in Lancaster are once again planning on beginning out-door movies.  But, for now, with the pandemic still causing problems, we will have to wait and see.  Just hope they buy a few extra speakers to hang on your car window for those careless people that are also forgetful.  It was another extaordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Laughing My Way Through Adversity" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Walking through the grocery store with my wife doing our weekly grocery shopping.  We were told that the shelves may be empty in some areas of the store, but we weren't prepared for what we encountered.  

Pasta shelf has very little left on it.

Almost all the pasta was missing from the shelves as was the sauces on the opposite side of the aisle.  The next aisle we entered was not quite as empty, but the canned vegetables were over half gone and the majority of my favorite soups were gone.  The next aisle looked untouched, but that was the pet food aisle.  

Pasta sauce was also empty.

I must admit I took the last big plastic tub of cat litter, but most of the types of cat food we buy were over half filled on the shelves.  But...when we turned the corner into the next aisle...it was almost void of EVERYTHING!  Absolutely no toilet paper, only a few boxes of tissues and even the paper plates were mostly gone.  

Toilet paper and paper towels are non-existent.

There were about a half-dozen rolls of paper towels, but that was one item we had plenty of at home already.  The next aisle was filled with plenty of greeting cards, magazines and Easter candy.  Actually we didn't encounter anyone in the aisle; as they were rushing to buy other needed items before they were all gone.  The frozen food aisle was missing quite a few types of frozen vegetables, but the ice cream and popsicles was well stocked.  Drugs, shampoo, bandaids, etc. were filled, but there was a totally empty space were the hand sanitizer had been last week.  

Most of the cans of our favorite soups were gone!

The final aisle was filled with bread and rolls, but the yogurt was getting empty and the only carton of eggs had two missing and a few broken in it.  The meats and fish aisle across the back of the store was nicely packed as were the store-made cookies and muffins.   A final stop at the salad bar found it fully stocked with all my favorite ingredients.  After checking out and heading home, the phone rang and Carol's good friend Marg was on the other end of the line.  

Another part of the soup aisle was also empty.

They had just returned home from their grocery store to the north of our grocery store and reported it was well stocked except for the toilet paper and hand sanitizer.  All that you have just read happened two days ago.  Yesterday we made a trip to the grocery store to our north where Marg and her husband had been shopping.  To our surprise we found it fairly well-stocked.  There home made items such as baked oatmeal and donuts were very low, but we found everything we wanted.  The deli counter was filled except for a few types of lunchmeat.  We found the eggs we needed, but after checking the first box found one broken.  The next box had two missing, but after a bit of rearranging the boxes, I had the full box of good eggs in the cart.  Plenty of produce as well as other items and we left with the few items we hadn't found the day before.  Then as Carol and I sat in our lounge chairs watching a few new TV shows, since there was no NCAA basketball on TV, she held her iPad up for me to see...it was a photograph taken on the island of Sint Maarten at a jewelry store we visit from time to time when on the island.  There was a half-filled bottle of Purell hand sanitizer.  The little black note next to it read: buy this half full bottle of Purell Hand Sanitizer for $1,099 and get this DIAMOND RING FREE!  Great advertising!!  I'm glad we are not currently on the island or we may have taken that back to our rental. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

Great bit of advertising!

PS - I found this a few minutes ago at a nearby house that has flamingos all over the yard.  Pretty funny!

The "Happy 99th Birthday!" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading my all-time favorite newspaper column, "The Scribbler".  For those who don't live in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania or who might not subscribe to the LNP newspaper, you may have no idea what "The Scribbler" might be.  It has been a part of my life since the late 1950s when I began reading the Lancaster New Era which happened to be the evening newspaper that was published in Lancaster County.  Now, I must admit I had an ulterior motive for reading "The Scribbler" in the local newspaper.  Her name was Sally!  Seems I had a crush on this beautiful young girl who sang in the St. James St. Cecilia woman's and girl's choir.  The choir was the female part of the choir in which I sang, St. James Men and Boys choir.  A few times a month both choirs sang together and that's when I first noticed Sally.  After my voice changed and I had to drop out of the choir, I still got to see her during Sunday School classes each week.  Then, when I became a senior in high school, I gathered up the nerve to ask her to my Senior Prom.  Well, that didn't go so well I guess, since I didn't date her after that.  Now, to connect my love life to "The Scribbler": seems that Mr. Gerald Lestz, "The Scribbler" at the time, was the step-father of Sally.  I thought that by reading his newspaper column I would get an "in" into the life of Sally.  Didn't matter!  Well, I really did like his column and when Mr. Jack Brubaker took over the bi-weekly column in 1979, I just keep reading it.  "The Scribbler" offered stories dealing with the history, culture and humor of Lancaster County.  Now, who wouldn't love a column like that?  "The Scribbler" first appeared in the newspaper on May 24, 1919 when it was published in the Daily Examiner and Express.  That newspaper eventually became Lancaster's evening newspaper, The Lancaster New Era which now is the morning newspaper called LNP.  The only constant in all of this is the column called "The Scribbler".  I must admit that when I began my daily blog, which is going on nine years now, I used "The Scribbler" as my inspiration.  So, today when I opened the newspaper and turned to page A7, what a surprise it was to see that "The Scribbler" is the second oldest newspaper column in the WORLD.  The only column that has been published longer is one called "Beachcomber" which is published in the London Daily Express.  That column celebrated it's 100th anniversary last August.  The "Beachcomber" lampoons contemporary life which is OK with me, but I would rather read the local history and humor of my hometown.  Evidently I'm not the only one who enjoys "The Scribbler" since it just turned 99 years old yesterday.  My only regret about my favorite column is that it has been reduced to one day a week instead of the two days a week I grew to love.  But, if Mr. Brubaker is as old as I am, I can understand.  There is only so much history, culture and humor that one can stand as they age.  I do hope that if Mr. Brubaker ever decides to retire, and I do wish him a happy retirement some time in the future, that there will be someone else to take over the column who has the same wit, humor and writing skill that he has.  Hey, I'm waiting by the phone!  So, Happy 99th Birthday to "The Scribbler"!  Keep it alive and well for many more years if possible!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Just Don't Sneeze Under A Ladder" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Checking my Facebook page as well as looking at the myriads of emails I have accumulated over the past few days.  Most of the emails go directly into the trash, especially those that I have no idea who may have sent them to me.  Then there are other emails that I know will be interesting so I click on them immediately.  I get emails a few times a month from a local eating establishment that always sends entertaining and interesting emails that really have very little to do with food.  Today was no exception since the email was titled "13 Superstitions That Still Scare the Bejesus Out of Us."  Now who could refuse viewing an email like that.  My first thought was why did they decide to list 13 superstitions when everyone knows that the number 13 is scary.  Sure enough, there was superstition #13 that said that the number 13 was unlucky.  Began saying that Apollo 13 was cursed from the start because of its flight number.  And, why do some buildings bypass the 13th floor when building.  Is floor #14 really really lucky if it follows floor #12?  And, do you really have bad luck on Friday the 13th?  I wonder if the Bible would have been written different had Judas Iscariot not been the 13th man at the Last Supper.  And, was Jesus crucified on Good Friday the 13th.  Many people have a deep fear of the #13 and I'm not sure if I am one of them or not.  Well, the other 12 superstitions are just as frightening; that is if you are really superstitious.  They are, in no particular order:

1. Spilling Salt:  Are you one of those people who have to throw a pinch of salt over your shoulder if you happen to knock a salt shaker over and salt spills out?  I am!  Did you know that by doing so you were blinding the demon waiting behind you.  In the Middle Ages, those living in Europe would leave a line of salt outside their door believing that witches would be compelled to count every grain before entering.  And, did you know that Leonardo Da Vinci, in his painting of the Last Supper, shows Judas knocking over the salt!  Oh, for Heaven's sakes!
2. Opening an umbrella indoors:  At one time in history owning an umbrella was a rare luxury reserved for royalty who used it to shade themselves from the sun's rays which contained invasive spirits.  Now that would be a great reason to open it anywhere.  Some believe that bad vibes are expelled when opening an umbrella indoors, but for me ... I don't believe in this superstition.
3. Horseshoes:  Supposedly the luckiest of all good-luck charms is the horseshoe. The ancient Greeks invented the horseshoe to protect the feet of their horses as well as to honor them as holy animals.  The "U" shape is associated with the crescent moon which is seen as a symbol of fertility and good fortune.  Just don't hang a horseshoe upside-down outside your home for it will surely burn to the ground.
4. Wearing black while mourning:  The devil's playground creates this superstition.  Years ago it was said you should avoid a person who had been around the dead since it was said to be contagious.  Some even said you should give away all your colored clothing while mourning a death.  I don't believe any of that stuff, but just don't wear white after Labor Day.
5. Black Cats:  Seems I just wrote of about black cats recently.  It was said that at one time witches were the caretakers of cats and that Satan was thrown out of heaven into a blackberry bush, thus the color black is associated with the devil, or Satan, and the notion that black cats are evil.
6. Getting out the wrong side of the bed:  You did know that getting out of bed on the left side has bad consequences?  Said to lead to death and destruction.  That's why hotel designers arrange guest rooms with the left side of the bed facing the wall.  Did you also know that exiting the bed on the same side you entered will cause your sleep to be disturbed?  Try it some time.
7. Knock on Wood:  Knocking on wood is said to bring good luck.  It was said that trees housed god's and nature's spirits who controlled the seasons.  So, knocking on the trunk of a tree would bring you good luck.  Also, many Christians rub on a wooden cross to offer penance or seek protection.
8. Walking under a ladder:  The Ancient Egyptians believed that a ladder perched against a wall created a sacred triangle ... and to walk underneath it disrupted spiritual energies.  In France convicts used to be forced to walk under a ladder as they walked to the gallows ... their final unlucky act.
9. Breaking a mirror:  I still feel bad when I break a mirror.  Seems your reflection will be trapped in the mirror and stunt your growth.  Could also imprison your soul.  Also said the Jewish families cover mirrors after the death of a loved one so as not to risk the departed soul wandering into the reflection and getting lost on its way to eternity.
10. Jumping the Broom:  Ever hear of this?  The African-American expression means getting married and follows an old custom that the newlyweds literally jump over a broom to prove that one of them is not an evil double.  
11. Rabbit's foot:  I actually had a keychain with a rabbit's foot on it.  Thought it would bring me good luck.  After my second accident I re-thought having the keychain.  Also said that many actors keep a rabbit's foot in their make up box, since make up was at one time applied with a rabbit's foot.  It as a performer's good-luck charm.
12. Sneezing:  Don't you say "God Bless You" after someone sneezes?  It was believed that a sneeze would expel your soul from your body, so you wanted to make sure that God would bless your soul.  And then in the plague years in Europe it was a grave omen to sneeze, thus the expression "nothing to sneeze at."  Had to do with spreading communicable diseases.  I do like the idea that Jerry Seinfeld had when he said you should say "You're so good looking" when someone sneezed.
13. And, the final superstition is ... the #13.

Believe any of this baloney?  I do!  Pretty creepy if you don't.  I feel sorry for you if you don't believe some of these.  YOU'LL BE SORRY!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Wow, Say It Ain't So, Jimmy" Story

A favorite, Jimmy Buffet.

It was an ordinary day.  Reading online about a fabulous idea that Jimmy William Buffet came up with.  You know who Jimmy Buffet is, right?  The guy who brings out all the parrot-heads for a concert.  The guy who is famous for "Cheeseburgers In Paradise."  And the guy who I love to sing along with every time I hop in the car for a trip to the store or even a trip that may take a few hours before I reach my destination.  Same guy that my wife says I don't know all his lyrics and seem to make up whatever I want the songs to say.  Well, it seems that he plans to open a chain of Margaritaville Funeral Homes in a 55-and-older retirement community in Daytona Beach.  Gonna call the place Latitude Margaritaville.  When he opens the first funeral home he will have a place where the parrot-heads can have a cradle-to-the-grave experience; all his fans will be able to die in 3/4 time.  It won't be long before the fad will spread all over the country as well as other parts of the world where Jimmy's fans are located.  A recent story online says that he is excited to bring the funeral experience the fun and escapism that Margaritaville has to offer.  The "Volcano Memorial Experience" will shoot your loved one's ashes into the air from a small model volcano.  

His new Logo!

Now, how cool can that be?  His "The Night (dad, grandpa, etc.) Painted The Sky" fireworks package will place the cremation ashes into a fireworks to be shot off at the memorial service.  You will also be able to have one of his many glassblowers make a large shot glass with some of the ashes inside it.  Each funeral home will have a "Buffett Tribute Band" to play your favorite Buffet songs during the service.  Now, I'll tell you, I don't usually don't get excited about funerals, especially my own, but this is a really neat idea.  I approached my wife about the idea, telling her I wanted our framed picture of Jimmy, and the tickets from the concert that we went to a few years ago, to be ignited along with me when I died.  After telling her all about the new idea that Jimmy Buffet has come up with, she smiled and looked at me saying, "Do you realize what day it is today?  April 1st!  Guess the joke's on you!" I said, "Ah, jeeze!  I really thought he had a great idea and I'll bet he would have made a fortune.  Wait a minute!  Why couldn't I do something like that?"  Carol said, "You don't even know the real lyrics to his songs!"  She's right, as usual.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Finally ... A Prankster's Paradise" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Just opened my emails and there was a link to a photograph that I had been searching for since I began writing my blog.  You may remember that I wrote a few stories about this store in downtown Lancaster, Pennsylvania that I would visit as a boy after choir practice on Saturday mornings.  Name of the store I thought was called Steinfeldt's, but could never find any information about it.  That was until today when I clicked on the email and there in front of me was an advertisement in some sort of publication telling about Steinfeldt's at 161 North Queen Street.   The memories began to flood back once again as I read the advertisement that said "The Store of 1000 Gifts."  My mission every time I entered was to purchase a few of the many novelty items that they had for sale just for kids like me.  Some of my favorite items were the Atom Pearls which looked like the Silver Dragees that my mom would use for decorating cupcakes.  

The Atom Pearls would explode when you threw them hard enough against an object.  Could scare the crap out my friends just about every time I bought them.  Also loved the Mexican Jumping Beans that would move around and "jump" in the air when you held them in your warm, moist hand.  Must of had something to do with the heat of your hand to make them do that.  Then there was the fake chewing gum that made your lips turn bright red that I enjoyed giving to my friends.  I remember buying an item I called a "cigarette load" which you could sneak into a cigarette and it would explode when the cigarette burnt to that point.  Only bought them one time, since my dad didn't think it too funny when I tried one in his cigarette.  

The Fake Barf

Also remember the "fake barf" and the hand buzzer that I had fun fooling my friends.  I can't imagine how many young boys and girls in Lancaster Must have bought items such as these at Steinfeldt's over the years they were in business.  Then, one day they demolished the store.  Not only Steinfeldt's, but the entire 100 block of North Queen Street.  "Urban renewal" was the reason!  I've written about that before and the concrete jungle that resulted which still dots the landscape in downtown Lancaster.  Oh, for the good olde times when a kid could buy a novelty item and have a great time fooling or embarrassing their friends.  Of course, kids no longer enjoy that sort of thing.  Not electronic enough for them.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Orange Blossoms, Guinea Pigs and the Sorrow of the Hunt" Story

It was an ordinary day.  My cousin Susan had just sent me photos she had taken of her sister's family scrapbook.  Easy to do since her sister lives close to her.  The photos in her sister's, Amy, scrapbook were of my mother's side of the family.  Photos of our Grandpap and Grandma as well as photos of Susan, Amy and their older sister Lynn's parents, Virginia and Bob.  There were even a few photos that featured me at a young age.  The memories began flooding back of happy times shared with family.  

Aunt Virginia and Uncle Bob.  Uncle
Bob is holding me on his shoulders.
This was probably take in the mid-1950s.

Their father, my Uncle Bob, was my favorite Uncle.  Two occasions stick out in my memory that feature times spent with Uncle Bob.  In one I was a young teenager and Uncle Bob had invited me to go hunting with him at his family's homestead on farmland to the east of Strasburg, PA.  My parents dropped me off on a Friday evening and Uncle Bob helped equip me with the necessary items including a 12 gauge shotgun.  Had never fired one in my life, but the excitement in my eyes must have been obvious.  Had a hard time sleeping that night in the basement, but arose early and headed with him to the farm to hunt small game.  As we walked in a recently harvested corn field, he yelled and pointed at a small rabbit that had begun to run.  I raised my gun and fired.  Shot the poor, helpless thing dead.  I felt awful, but didn't display that emotion to my Uncle Bob.  That was the one and only time I went hunting and shot a gun.  Still remember the sorrow I felt as I picked up the small, limp carcass.  Too much compassion towards animals to be a hunter, I guess.  My second and more pleasant memory was in 1960 after I had purchased my first car, a 1953 Henry J coupe.  It was an awful rusty-looking burgundy color and Uncle Bob volunteered to help me paint the car in his garage on Washington Street in Strasburg.  I prepped the car and bought what I thought would be a neat light tan color automotive paint.  Arrived that Saturday morning at his house and we taped and wrapped the chrome and glass and poured the paint into his paint gun.  I stood outside the closed garage as he painted the car.  He arrive outside in about an hour with a tan color to his clothes as well as his hair.  I stayed overnight that evening with my Uncle Bob, Aunt Virginia and my three girl cousins.  The next morning we opened the garage door and there was this newly painted car gleaming in the bright sun.  It was orange!  Not only the car, but the entire inside of his garage ….. shelves, boxes lining the shelves, tools and …. well, everything in the garage!!  He never got mad; he was that nice of an Uncle!  

My Grandpap, William (Bill) Cochran.  Notice he has a pipe
in his mouth.  Don't have many photos without one in his mouth.
 My middle name is William … named after my Grandpap.

As for memories of my Grandpap, they are numerous and mostly humorous.  He was famous for gathering his grandkids as well as his youngest daughter, my Aunt Lois who was only a year older than myself (a surprise package) in his home at 617 South Prince St. in the city of Lancaster, loading his pants pockets with coins and walking to the corner of his living room where he would stand on his head in the corner and allow all the money to fall on the floor.  We screamed as we gathered the coins before the blood in his head made him dizzy and he had to drop to the floor.  I can also remember walking through his backyard and helping him pick rose blossoms from what seemed like hundreds of rose bushes.  He used the rose petals to make rose petal wine which was bottled and stored in his dirt-floor cellar. Never had the chance to drink any, but do remember pouring many bottles in the kitchen sink while helping to clean the basement after he died.  I do remember when I brought my wife Carol to his home after we had both turned 21 and he made Orange Blossoms for us.  An alcoholic drink that I have no idea what were the ingredients, but we drank many of them ….. and they were good!  He also would make his famous chicken corn soup and have me help him husk the corn in his back yard under the cigar tree.  The tree had cigar-like stems that simulated cigars which he would break off and we would light and pretend to smoke the dried stems.  What a neat Grandpap.  Well, we would husk the corn and save the corn-silk worms to put in the soup to see who would be the lucky one to get one of them.  He would always look at me and wink an eye when one was found.  Grandpap always had a pipe in his mouth, except when we were smoking the cigar tree stems or he was asleep in his green lounge chair; just like the one I now have in my family.  Always!!  I loved the aroma of the cigar smoke and can still remember to this day the puffs of smoke that circled his head when he would blow smoke rings.  He was the neatest Grandpap.  But, my most memorable moments of Grandpap were the trips we would take to Roots Country Market and Auction on Tuesday mornings in the summer.  Boy, were they memorable.  

My Grandpap and Grandma Cochran with me and my
Aunt Lois (1 year older than me) standing in front of them.
To the right is Aunt Virginia and my mother, Dorothea.
Handsome family if I must say so, except for Grandma's hat
that looks like it has a canteen of soup on the top of it.

We would walk through the animal auction house and he would point out all the different types of animals.  After he saw which animal I liked the best, he would bid on it and ALWAYS win the bid for it.  One memorable find was a pigeon with a broken wing.  We brought that home and mom and I put a splint on the wing using a popsicle stick and bandaids.  After it recovered it flew away much to my dismay.  I ran after it with a rope lasso I had fashioned, climbed a fence gate to try and lasso it, fell off and broke arm …. on my parent's anniversary of all times.  Then there were the family of white rats that he big on and we brought home.  Mom made me keep them in the basement where I would hold them and play with them.  A week or so later, after arriving home from church, they had chewed through the wooden box and were running around the basement.  Dad and I hung peach baskets from the ceiling and while watching them from the basement stairs, allowed the baskets to drop over them as they ate the food we had placed on the floor.  After catching all of them we drove them to the local stockyards near our home and left them go.  And finally, he bid and won a box that had eight full-sized guinea pigs in it.  My mom couldn't believe it when we arrived home that Tuesday afternoon.  Eventually the one male and seven females multiplied, and multiplied, so dad and I built a big cage in the back yard.  That eventually led to three cages and enough money from selling the baby guinea pigs to buy my 1953 Henry J coupe.  So you can see the circle-of-life created by my Uncle Bob and Grandpap.  Good times I will never, ever forget as I'm sure my mom and dad never did!  And, thank you Susan and Amy for allowing me to relive my childhood all over again with your wonderful and memorable photos!!  Everyone needs to do that from time to time, you know.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

PS - You can't imagine how much fun it has been to write today's story.  Brought a few tears of joy as well as a few tears of sorrow that I can never relive these memories except in my mind.  But, I guess that's exactly what memories are all about, aren't they?  This story has to be dedicated to my mom, Dorothea, for allowing all these things to happen in my life.  How many other kids have been as lucky as I have been to have had a mom like I did.  That is except for my children whose mother and my very special wife, Carol, put up with much of the same nonsense.   Oh yeah, and my grandkids whose mom's, my daughter Brynn and my daughter-in-law Barbara, have allowed them to gain the same kinds of memories with their Tampah (that's me!) minus the animals.  Life can be so much fun at times!!

The "The Whole Truth" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Woke to the alarm that read 7:15 am, reached over and shut it off and looked out the window.  Still dark, but I could tell it was raining.  I had set the clock last evening to wake me in the morning, since I had to go to physical therapy at 8:00 am for my lame shoulder and I only had to travel a couple of blocks to get to the building.  Hopped in the shower, dressed quickly and headed down the stairs to feed Creamsickle, our cat, who seemed to wonder why he was being fed while it was still dark outside.  Grabbed a bite to eat, retrieved the morning paper from the driveway, sat on the recliner and turned on the TV to check out the scores from the night before.  That's when I discovered it.  The "it" was the fact that it was only 4:30 am, and I was showered, dressed and had the cat was already fed.  Somehow I must have pushed a few too many buttons on the clock and changed my entire day.  Headed back up the stairs to tell Carol my news.  She turned over in bed and said, "So."  "I'm going downstairs and sit in the chair and try to go back to sleep for an hour or so," I told her.  Wasn't long before I had taken my glasses off and removed my hearing aides and placed everything on the snack tray next to the chair.  Fell asleep, but woke about an hour later, put my glasses back on and grabbed a few of the chocolate chip cookies that Carol had baked a few days ago to go along with the glass of milk I had just poured.  Finally it was time to head out the door so I yelled to Carol telling her I was leaving and that Creamsickle was sleeping on the floor.  As I entered the physical therapist's office I realized that I had forgotten to put my hearing aides back in my ears, but knew exactly where I had left them.  After my hour appointment I headed to the framing gallery where I had a few jobs to complete for customers that were going to pick them up later in the day.  Wasn't long before I was walking in the house once again, ready to take a quick nap before lunch.  Carol was sitting in the recliner, talking to a friend on the phone as I reached for my hearing aides that were on the snack tray when I had left a few hours before.  I found one of them and noticed that she was pointing to the floor where I assumed the other must had fallen.  When I couldn't find it I figured either the cat had decided to play with it or ..... it had fallen into the air return vent next to the chair.  Now what?  I was hoping it hadn't dropped into the vent and found it's way toward the gas furnace.  While she was still talking on the phone, I grabbed a flashlight, removed the vent cover and shone the light into the small opening.  There it was, nestled in a pile of cat hair!  I managed to stick my hand in the hole and retrieve it.  Examined it, wiped it off and popped it back in my ear.  Whew!  Wasn't funny at the time, but later in the day, while Carol was telling my brother about my morning, I knew the story was destined to be my blog story for the next day.  And that, my friends, is the whole truth.  It was another another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.  

The "Letters From Camp" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Sorting through some of the last boxes that I removed from my parents home a few years ago when both mom and dad were admitted to a nursing home and I had to prepare their home to be sold.  Every time I look through the boxes I find something new that sheds a different light on one of them.  Today's find is a few letters that my dad had written to his mother, my "nannan", while at church camp on an island in the Susquehanna River.  Camp Rodgers, located on Schelle Island, was the site of St. James' Episcopal Church's summer camp for the youth of the church as well as other neighborhood churches.  I attended one year before it was destroyed by fire in 1956, but my dad spent quite a few summers on Schelle Island while a member of the St. James Boys Choir.  Tough to visualize your dad as a young boy just as you were at one time, but after finding two letters and enjoying reading them, I saw my dad in an entirely different light.  He was just like me!  His letters were amusing and one, evidently written a few years before the other because of the penmanship, was hilarious.  I read it to Carol and we both had a good laugh.  Thought I'd share them with you so you can see what a young boy visiting a church camp miles away in the middle of a large river thought of life at camp.  I have scanned both letters and they follow.  If you click on the images you will be able to enlarge them to make them easier to read.  I'm sure he wouldn't mind me sharing them with the world, since he enjoyed family humor as much as anyone else in the family.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

A letter when my dad probably went to Camp Rodgers for the first time.

A year or two later.  Penmanship is better and he writes less.  If you're interested, Tiny is the name of his dog and Doris and Tut are his sisters.

The "Story Updates" Story

I took this photo a few days ago of a heron
in Overlook Park near our house.  My guess
is he/she paid a visit to my house earlier today.

It was an ordinary day.  Just took photos to update two stories that I posted in the past.  The first story dealt with a Blue Heron that visited our neighborhood one evening a few years ago and enjoyed the pond full of fish that we had in our backyard.  Didn't know anything about it until we found a photo in our mailbox that someone had taken of a heron standing on our roof.  The note written on the rear of the photo asked when the baby was due, since I guess they thought it was a stork.  Well, that was a few years ago, but today as Carol was backing the car out of our driveway, she spied another heron sitting on one of the triangular canvas covers we have hung over our rear deck for shade.  It was staring at our pond!  We have 7 fish in our pond; they managed to survive the terrible cold winter we experienced last year in the northeast US.  She stopped the car so she could get a photo with her phone, but while getting out of the car the heron saw her and took flight.  Later this afternoon, as I was removing the pump from the pond for the winter, I noticed the fish must have been hiding.  Then I realized that ……. only two remained in the pond.  I hope the heron enjoyed the meal.  

A home on Roseville Road in Lancaster, PA which displays
a variety of lawn …. well, I'm not sure what to call it.

The other story I wrote was about neighbor who had a bathtub painted pink with a mannequin wearing a pink bra sitting in the tub.  That, plus a pink bicycle and an antique bed planted with flowers.  Tough being the next door neighbor to someone who calls that lawn art.  But, today as I drove past I noticed a few more additions.  Happened to have my camera with me and pulled over to take another photo.  The family now has a washstand, pink fire hydrant, pink bulldog, pink mailbox and what appears to be a five panel collage of …… well, look for yourself and see what you think.  Is this art?  Or, is it just lawn trash?  So glad I don't live close to them.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "I Was Happy, But Sad" Story

Click on drawing to enlarge.

It was an ordinary day.  Laughing with my wife after just pinning a new photo to our "Fun" board on Pinterest.  If you are a fan of Pinterest you know what I am talking about, but if not, Pinterest is a visual discovery tool that you can use to find ideas for all your projects and interests.  After you set up an account you can start to pin photos from others to your boards or you can add your own photos.  If you care to start your own account, just Google Pinterest and follow the directions.  You'll have a fun time, but prepared to get hooked on the site.  Well, the pin my wife put on our fun board was a drawing that a grade school little girl had made of her mother.  The picture she drew looks as if her mother is doing a pole dance and men are all around her offering money to her.  The words that she added were:  When I Grow up ... I want to be like mommy!  I have posted the picture so you can see it as well as read the letter that the girl's mother wrote to her teacher, Mrs. Jones.  After Carol and I stopped laughing she said, "Remember when that happened to us?"  Wasn't sure until she began to tell her story about when our daughter was in elementary school and had an assignment in her 1st grade class.  She had to write and add an accompanied drawing about:  I was happy about ......  but I was sad about ......  Her teacher was Mrs. Stoner and when we went in to visit we got to see the picture hanging on the wall of her classroom with the accompanying story.  Picture was of her cat Gladys whom she had received for Christmas from Santa.  Words on the top were:  I was happy when I got my cat for Christmas .... and underneath the drawing said:  But sad because she was in heat. Our daughter had drawn spray droplets coming from the rear of the cat and running down the wall in the drawing. We were sure she had no idea what being in heat meant at the time, but she was sad about it.  I think my wife was somewhat embarrassed by the drawing, but I couldn't stop laughing.  Our daughter did such a great job with the drawing and she was proud of what she had drawn.  After returning home from out meeting with Mrs. Stoner we told our daughter that we saw her drawing on the wall and thought she did a good job, but maybe she shouldn't draw anymore photos of her cat.  Oh the joys of parenthood.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Victoria's Secret" Story

 It was an ordinary day.  7:30 AM and I'm heading to work.  Made the left-hand turn out of my develop- ment and after driving maybe fifty yards on West Roseville Road I saw it.  There on my left, at the home that always had close to 50 pink plastic flamingos scattered around their yard, was a cast iron bathtub painted pink around the bottom with a pink plastic female mannequin's body bathing in the tub filled with dirt.  Sitting behind it about five feet away was a ceramic toilet filled with dirt and plants popping out of the seat.  To the left of the tub, about 20 feet away was an antique metal bed frame that had wooden sides, filled with dirt and flowers.  Between the two was an old female's bicycle with handbrakes, painted bright pink.  I thought the bed was rather clever, since it reminded me of a bed of flowers, but the tub with the nude mannequin's body was a bit too much.  I knew the neighbor's weren't going to take lightly to the ower's display of "artwork" on his front lawn, especially the nude mannequin.  Someone will surely call him and complain. 

The left hand of the mannequin holds a sign advertising
an apartment the owner has for rent at the side of his house.

Well, that was about two days ago and today I noticed a new addition to the display - a bright pink Victoria's Secret brassiere covered the boobs of the naked pink manniquin.  Nice touch!!  I know that homeowners are entitled to decorate their house and surroundings with whatever they care, but to subject your neighbors with what this guy has done over the years is going slightly overboard.  Look at my top photo showing his building additions in the background and you will see other white ornamental sculptures and fountains that grace his yard.  Not just one, but many of them.  Kinda overboard, if you ask me.  Of course, he didn't ask me, which is fine, but I thought I should still give him a look on my blog so others can be glad who they have as neighbors.  I know I'm glad after seeing his expression's of "artwork."  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "30 Hours Of Chaos" Story

It was an ordinary day.  A sudden jolt wakened me from my sleep.  I opened my eyes and heads were bobbing in unison as far as I could see in the seats ahead of me as the plane fought the remnants of the historic storm that swept the eastern coast recently.  To Carol's left sat a young man bobbing and bobbing in his chair, crossing himself a few times and repeating over and over under his breath, "Oh my God!" A few months ago Carol and I searched for airfare for another adventure to the Caribbean.  We found Delta Airlines had the best price, but we would have to travel through New York from Baltimore to reach our final destination of St. Martin.  Never flew through John F. Kennedy Airport, but thought we would give it a try, since the savings were quite substantial.  Well, the travel chaos began around 5:30 PM when we left home in heavy rains and traffic heading to the Best Western near Baltimore and Washington International Airport (BWI).  Had arranged for a Sleep and Park package which is our usual Modus Operandi on the day before our flight.  Wake-up call at 4:15 AM and arrival at the Delta ticket counter at 5:30 AM.  Our flight was to board at 6:40 AM, but that time came and went without any movement from the clerks at the ticket counter.  The sky was overcast, but no rain at all this morning.  Around 7:00 AM I approached the ticket counter and asked why we hadn't boarded as of yet.  "The Captain hasn't given the OK as of yet," was their reply.  "Why?" I naturally wanted to know.    An attendant walked to the door of the walkway, opened it and disappeared into the blackness.  Wasn't long before we heard over the loudspeaker, "The Captain said all air traffic has been stopped in and out of JFK  until further notice because of storms so we will not be boarding as of now."  We had only a half-hour between this flight and our direct flight to Princess Juliana Airport (SXM) in St. Martin, so it was now time to worry.  We sat and sat wondering if we should have taken the more costly flight on American that went from BWI to Miami, then Miami to SXM, the flight we usually take.  The time that our flight from JFK to SXM had arrived and we are still sitting in the airport at BWI.  I made a second trip to the ticket counter where the poor girls were fielding question after question.  My turn arrived and I asked what I can do.  She checked my ticket arrangements and after spending an eternity on the computer, printed my new agenda.  "As soon as the ban is lifted at JFK you can fly there and I have just made arrangements with American for you to fly with them from JFK to Miami and then on to SXM.  Only problem is, you will not arrive until 9:50 PM instead of the 1:30 PM arrival you had before with us."  So, I went back to my wife with the news of our new flight times.  A hour later, still sitting, waiting and hoping for JFK to open, I got to thinking and went back to the counter.  Talking with the same patient girl I said, "Why can't you just schedule my flights from BWI to Miami on American instead of taking me through JFK on Delta first?"  She started typing and shortly said,  "Your suitcases are going to be taken off our plane right now and sent to American's terminal as soon as you tell me what they look like.  Then you will leave in about a half hour for Miami on American."  Gave her the description and asked, "Do you really think our suitcases will make it?" She smiled politely and didn't answer. She knew better!  Well, I've just been awakened by the violent air currents on our trip to Miami on American.  We've faced this before and know the plane can handle them, so no problem.  Our wait in Miami was about five hours so we had a slow late afternoon meal and sat bored the rest of the time until the plane boarded at 7:50 PM.  I'm sure I dozed off quite a few times during that time due to the 2 No-doze Dramamine I had taken real early in the morning.  Finally all passengers were boarded and the door was closed when the Captain came over the speaker with, "The ground crew has not signed off on a small part that they are working on at present.  We must wait until they have finished, so sit back and get comfortable."  

I decided to start my story while on the flight from Miami
to St. Martin. Only thing I could find to write on was the
"Throw Up" Bag. Click on the photo and you will see that
I have stuck pretty close to what I originally had written.  

Geez, what else can happen I thought.  Well, things weren't finished yet!  Finally we're in the air and being served drinks.  Carol and I split a ginger ale and when Carol was just about finished drinking her half, she knocked her half-full plastic cup into her lap which in turn fell into the side pocket of her purse.  I grabbed the purse and when I tipped it  to get the drink from it, the drink fell out into her shoes and carry on bag.  Her passport and immigration form were in her purse and soaked, but salvageable.  Her lap ..... well I wanted to help her dry it off, but she thought it better if she did it.  Eventually we landed about 10:30 PM.  While still in Miami I tried to contact our realtor and car rental guy on my computer, but the airport WiFi wouldn't allow my messages to go through.  So, I called my daughter in Maryland and gave her the email addresses and told her the problems and she sent the emails.  Got a few texts later and everything was in place for a very late arrival.  Customs was a breeze and found my suitcase quickly, but Carol's wasn't with mine.  After a half-hour wait we decided to report it MIA.  Another half-hour in line as island-time had kicked in at the airport.  Our car rental guy, Leslie, was napping outside the airport and I think we startled him when we announced we had made it.  We arrived at the Realtor's office at 11:30 PM and a note told me to pick up the phone and press the gray button.  Did that ...... a dozen times.  Then I saw a piece of paper crumpled on the ground by the phone.  That one told me to call one of the Realtors at a number when we arrive.  Gave it a try and within 15 minutes a very tired looking young man arrived to usher us to our villa.  I can just imagine what we must have looked like to him.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.  PS.  It's 5:21 PM the next day and I've just reached this spot in my story and we're still waiting on the suitcase.  Carol is going to have to wear the same thing tonight for supper as she did yesterday.  We stayed at our villa today and the lack of a bathing suit wasn't a problem, but without a bathing suit to wear tomorrow she ........ well, there's always the clothing optional beach nearby!

The "Calls From The Past" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Land-line phone is ringing.  The screen display says Moravian Manor.  I freeze for a second before I answer.  It's been almost two years since I saw that display pop up on the phone in my house.  Mom and dad were residents at Moravian Manor which is located in Lititz, PA.  In the late 2000s dad became ill and after a stay in a nursing facility, he returned home with my mom as his caregiver.  She ended up with a hernia from trying to lift him and 

ended up in the hospital for a lengthy stay.  Then, after being told she needed to go to a nursing facility herself to help in her recup- eration, she found her way to Moravian Manor.  Shortly, after dad found she was in Moravian Manor, he was placed in a room across from mom in the nursing wing.  For a few months I made frequent visits to see both of them.  Days I didn't visit, the phone would usually ring and Moravian Manor would would be displayed on the screen.  Dad died and mom became a permanent resident.  From that point until she died almost two years ago, she would make daily evening calls to say Hello, causing our phone's display to show Moravian Manor.  So, you can imagine my reaction when I saw Moravian Manor appear once again.  Brought back memories as well as freaking me out.  This time the call was to check to see if I was still going to their open house the following day.  Moravian Manor is in the beginning stages of a 72 acre expansion and Carol and I would like to see what their plans might be in the near future.  We both enjoyed and appreciated the quality care my parents received during their stay and that is the reason for our interest.  But the story doesn't end here.  It was after my dad died that we experienced a totally different screen display that freaked both of us out one evening.  My dad's name was Paul and one night shortly after dad died, the phone rang and the display showed Paul Woods.  I quickly showed it to Carol and as our eyes met you could feel the ........ well, it was pretty spooky.  I answered not knowing what to expect.  On the other end was our son Tad.  My voice must have shown a bit of relief since he asked what was the matter.  After I finished telling him about the screen display I quickly realized that Paul Woods was his name also.  He carried my dad's name since birth, but to prevent family confusion, we used a version of his middle name Thadeus and called him Tad.  Carol and I are now anxiously waiting on our next call from the past.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Leave Them Laughing" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Sitting in my lounge chair reading the Sunday News with my 15 pound orange and white friend sitting in my lap napping.  Oh the joys of fatherhood.  Staring at me on the front page of the paper, beside the annoying "sticky ad" that is a nuisance, was an article titled "Leave them laughing" written by staff writer Suzanne Cassidy.  Made me grab my laptop that was sitting on my snack tray next to me and start a search through my blog for a story I typed a few years ago.  Called it "Obit".  It was written in 2010 and was at the end of the first year of stories that I posted.  At the time, I thought I would run out of stories after a year and choose to write a story about what I would like in the newspaper as an obituary when I died.  To some that may sound gruesome, but do you really want to leave it up to the newspaper, funeral home or friends and relatives to write what you want said about yourself?  Well, I found the story and have re-posted it at the end of this story, but I must tell you about the story in the newspaper today.  Tells about how obituaries have changed over the years to make them more personalized and in some instances funny, even hilarious.  Talked primarily about one that was in the paper shortly after a woman died on February 11th of this year.  Headline said:  Farewell to 'Jezebel'.  Under the bold heading was a sub-head that read: Helen A. Sagerer, Dead. Yep, that's what she wanted written in the paper.  And also: Helen, also known as Mom, Gramma, Mommom and, in her later years, our personal favorite "Jezebel," wanted her friends, caregivers and family to smile one more time!  Helen's daughters weren't sure if the newspaper would run the obit, but hey, you have to pay good money nowadays to put an obituary in the paper and how can the newspaper tell you that you can't run what you want as long as it isn't obscene or derogatory.  Helen's daughter Annie wrote the obituary with the help of her two sisters and after they all approved it, the obit ran in the paper.  Boy, did she feel the sting of some of the readers.  One person said that the obituary was "a shame for the people who want to cut it out and save it."  Annie replied in the paper that she could just hear her mother saying, "What the hell are you cutting out an obituary and saving it for anyway?"  Wow, I would have loved to have met this woman.  One of Helen's grandchildren who is 18 years old said, "She was probably the funniest person I ever met."  Even when she was at the end of her life and in the hospital after falling at her nursing home, she joked about a handsome orderly by saying, "I think he charged my battery."  The obituary was fun to read and showed how Helen had lived her life bringing joy and laughter to the lives of everyone she touched.  Since the beginning of 2014 there have been several other obituaries that have been rather unusual.  One was in the form of a party invitation to the funeral telling party, or I mean funeral, attendees to wear their "favorite festive" hat.  Another mentioned the woman's nickname as "Mama Roadkill".  At the end of January one obit detailed the deceased's "perfect meal" when it listed: prime rib, mashed potatoes, iceberg lettuce with blue cheese and Italian dressing and red raspberry pie for dessert.  Another obit in February told of the deceased as having Parkinson's disease and to the dismay of her children had taken to "eating less, making chocolate her major food group." That obit quoted her granddaughter as saying, "That woman ran around and did everything for everybody her whole life.  She should eat damn chocolate all day, every day."  I can just imagine the comments for that obit.  And, last year I wrote a story about another obituary featured in our paper about a guy whose life had been … "filled with endless laughter and debachery.  Jack was widowed 10 years ago after 61 years of marriage to Elaine Ewing Holden.  He had a number of wives recently, none of which were his."  I thought the obit was so funny I had to share it with you. Well, my obit that I comprised wasn't anything close to those, but still gave the readers a chance to see my life as I saw it.  So, take a second look at what may be in the newspaper in another 30 years, God willing.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.  

Larry W. Woods

Ordinary Guy

  

Larry W. Woods died on September 9, 2044 at the age of 100, surrounded by his wife and friend of 77 years, Carol, and his children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and great-great grandchildren at his home in Lancaster, PA. He died shortly after watching the “Today” show and seeing his photo on a jar of Smucker's Jam. This was the one item on his “Bucket List” he feared he would never achieve. He had a grin on his face as he fell asleep for the last time.
   Born in Lancaster, he was the son of the late Paul H. and Dorothea E. Woods. He is survived by his wife Carol; two sons Derek C., husband of Barbara, Paul T.; daughter Brynn A., wife of David Mencarini; grandchildren Courtney A. Mencarini, Camille G. Mencarini, and Caden C. Woods; 11 great grandchildren; 23 great-great-grandchildren; brother Stephen P., husband of Kathy. Special mention is made of long time friends Magali and Stephane who have cared for the Woods' St. Martin Villa for years.

   He graduated from Manheim Township High School in 1962 and Millersville State Teachers College in 1967. He was employed by the Manheim Township School District as an Industrial Arts Teacher for 33 years and was honored in 1990 as one of the Best Teachers in Pennsylvania in a Salute to Teaching. His 1972 Rifle Team won the PIAA State Championship and is still the only team to win a state championship in the history of the school district. He did this even though he had only shot a rifle two times in his life.  He also was adviser to the yearbook for 30 of his 33 years at the high school. In 1999, after retiring from teaching, he continued with the district as middle school yearbook adviser and in-house printer. Also worked until his death at Grebinger Gallery for one of his former students.  He was the owner of Woods Printing Services. He finally retired in 2035 with 80 years of service to the school district as either a student or employee. He was honored with a plaque above his old classroom naming it as "LDub's Room 108."

   He was a member of St. James Episcopal Church in Lancaster where he was a member of both the boys’ choir and the adult choir. Played the King that presented the baby Jesus with myrrh at the Christmas Pageant. He served on the Vestry and he and his wife were co-chairs of the annual Town Fair Prime Rib Dinner for 5 years. He was involved with the Manheim Township Baseball Association for 13 years and his 1991 Midget Team won the New Era Tournament Title. He won the World Series in the Red Rose APBA League in 1978. In 1997 he captured 1st Place in the 8th Annual Faulkner Corvette Day with his 1987 red Vette "Big Red". In 2009 he won 1st place in the SXM Web Forum photo contest. For years he sold stained glass original panels and artistic Polaroid Manipulation Prints at galleries in PA, MD and NJ. From 2009-2044 he authored a daily blog based on his life’s experiences titled “Extraordinary Stories from an Ordinary Guy.”  Yesterday was his last story which numbered 22,877.  In 2035 it was published in book form and was on the NY Times Best Seller List for 18 straight months. It can still be found at many local book stores. He held memberships in PSEA, NEA, MTEA, Giant Bonus Card Club, AAA, AARP, HOP, Borders Reward Program, The Lancaster County Corvette Club, and the American Writers Guild. On December 15th, 2010 he was ordained a minister in the Universal Life Church. 
   He was widely known for having two different colored eyes, winning a contest for having the loudest sneeze, being a world traveler, mowing his grass with his 75 year old Lawn Boy, enjoying his favorite meal of creamed peas and eggs on toast, speaking the first word that came to him even if it made no sense, getting all-over tans on his favorite St. Martin beach, wearing the same red shirt pictured on his obituary for over 40 years, driving like a maniac and being an ordinary guy.

     A funeral service for Larry will be held at St. James Episcopal Church on September 12, 2044 at 11:00 AM. Family will receive visitors from 9:00 until 11:00 AM. Private Interment will take place in the St. James Graveyard immediately after the service with punch and cookies served in the Parish House. There will be milk for those that choose to dunk in his memory.  Funeral Arrangements and Cremation will be handled by The Groffs Funeral Services. Some ashes will be saved for his lovely wife to scatter on the beach at Club Orient in St. Martin.  In lieu of flowers, which will be dead in a week anyway, donations can be made to the Juvenile Diabetes Society. You may send condolences to the family by using mental telepathy with your wireless head set or send vision readings with your 3D computer scanning device. It was the final extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "More of This & That" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Clearing all the photos from my iPhoto file.  Had about 11 thousand photos and it seemed to be slowing the program done a bit.  Put family photos on one CD, yearbook photos I took for the two school yearbooks I do on another CD.  photos from a recent trip to the Bahamas on another CD and most of the rest I deleted.  There were a few that I thought I would share with you before I hit the trash can with them.  So check out what isn't enough to write a story about, but still good enough to be saved from the trash can for a final viewing.

Pretty flower photo to get rid of the winter blues.  Took this of one of my wife's  Orchid plants.  She has three in bloom right now.

Wrote a story last spring about a female Cardinal that kept flying into our windows at the rear of our house.  Starts as soon as the sun rises and lasts throughout the day.  She evidently sees her image in the glass and is protecting her area. First photo shows her in the middle of the frame as she takes off, heading toward the rear door.

Here she is just about to strike the window. 

Feet raised as she hit the window.

Then, she flies back to the feeder for her next plan of attack.   

Don't you get sick of all the "Sticky Ads" that are now on the front page of the paper?

This is a business directly in front of my house when I lived on N. Queen St. in the late 40s to early 60s.  Played "off the wall" on this parking lot after the cars were gone.  Directly under the middle sign we would draw a strike zone with chalk, then one of us would pitch to another who would try to hit the tennis ball across the road into another parking lot.  One day the police showed up and said we had broken the windows that are boarded up and stuck the three of us in the cruiser and took us home to talk to our parents.  I know you think we probably did break the windows, but we DIDN'T.  You have my word on that.  They covered the windows with boards which remain until this day.  

Looked out one evening last week and there was this rather large "bandit" eating cat food.  I grabbed my camera and got low on the door and started banging on the window.  He kept eating with both feet and then, after getting annoyed with me ……...

…..stared at me and heading in my direction.  Then he …….

….. got right in my face.  Blurry because he was too close for my camera to focus.  Looked at me and then wandered off into the night.

Another backyard visitor the other day.  When this Hawk landed next to the bird feeder, all wildlife split!  Beautiful bird and wouldn't you know it …… I was setting my camera for an action shot when he lifted off ….. before I was ready to take the photo.  

 Final short story …… As Carol and I were returning from our grandson's youth basketball game we passed the local Kellogg Cereal Plant.  Huge place that employes many from our area and is surrounded with a tall chain-link fence with barbed wire on top of it.  Said to Carol, "Wonder why they have to have the barbed wire on top of the fence?"  To that she quickly replied, "Probably to keep all the cereal killers out!"  It as another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.