The Terrible Catsafterme

My secret desire is to time travel. I’d spend some time visiting historic events, ample time at the Hal Roach Studios, and lots of time in the late 1970’s visiting with myself. I have to assume that any real memories I have (except for the fleeting, vague ones of events that I know happened earlier), must have occurred after the start of 1975.

This time period (1975-1979) was the crux of my childhood. This era evokes images of our house on Echo Hill, Kindergarten, my early toys, 45rpm records, Saturday morning cartoons, Read the rest of this entry »

I used to make fun of Ronald Reagan at the time he was President, but what did I know at that time? I was young and I thought he was old, slow, and phony – what else could a former actor be? I just finished listening to the Audio CD version of his biographical An American Life last week and confirmed what I’d come to suspect later in life: Reagan was a great guy. Read the rest of this entry »

Being blessed (or at times, cursed) with an incredible memory, there are actually a few things that I do remember about the first half of the 1970’s decade, despite not being born until late 1971. All of the memories pertain to me, of course. World events would have certainly been lost on me. There is no recall of Vietnam or Watergate. 

Mostly what you will see in the early 1970’s posting are photos mixed with some scant memories. Perhaps at this point in my life, they are not even memories, but merely memories of memories that have become permenantly emblazoned on my mind. Read the rest of this entry »

Again, this posting refers to the trip I took just last weekend with my Dad and Bill. We awoke in Americus, Georgia bright and early Sunday morning and headed out toward Plains (about 10 miles west) to the Maranatha Baptist Church. We arrived at around 7:30am, although I was hoping to get there about 15 minutes earlier.

After a brief wait of about 30 minutes, we were allowed entrance to the church. Security seemed a bit more lax than it had been during my other two visits. Neither Bill nor I were required to be scanned by the metal detector, but Dad was. I guess he just looked more like an assassin than we did. All that was required of me was that I turn on my camera so that they could see that it was actually a camera. We ended up in the fourth pew from the front, where a large floral display contributed by Sybil Carter commemorated the 18th anniversary of the death of her husband Billy. Read the rest of this entry »

Here are two more fabulous color shots from the “slides” series, one of my Dad proudly (?) displaying a baseball trophy in the Summer of ’59 and one of his Dad, my grandfather at work. Read the rest of this entry »