SHAKES ALIVE

Parkway Sundries in MTV. I've written about it before. Shakes in the fancy glasses plus a tumbler with more delicious malt in them. Certainly enough for two.

That's what Dennis (Butch) and I would do. Not a lot. But enough that I remember it well. For twenty-five cents in 1958 we split a shake. Some days he'd pay. Next time would be my turn.

Yesterday after eating one of the the top ten worst hot dog ever three-quarters eaten on a golf course, and after two rice cakes for my wife for lunch, we stopped at a diner known for great milk shakes.

Shakes, still chocolate though with an addition of coconut, in the fancy glasses plus a tumbler with more delicious malt in them. Certainly enough for two. We don't partake in this activity a lot. For $5.66 in 2008. I paid. Maybe next time it will be her turn.

Where's the outrage? Wasn't gasoline about a quarter a gallon in '58? Isn't gas about $4.50-4.75 a gallon today? Then why are people not upset about shakes going up? And the price of cars? And houses? And lousy hot dogs--mine cost $4.25. And ad infinitums?

I don't get it. But then again, maybe I didn't need a shake. But then again, maybe all of us don't need SUV's and bigger. But then again, maybe we all should put things in perspective.

MOONSHINE

Why is homemade brew called Moonshine? My guess is that it was produced under the guise of night to avoid detection. Plus, by the light of the moon, the maker could still see what ingredients to include.

The moon, made on the third day of creation, has always held an attraction to me. Along with the stars. And the sun. And most all of God's handiwork. Oh, I know, God doesn't make junk, but some created things don't have quite the same appeal as the moon to me.

Last night's full moon illuminated the Southwestern sky I observed and just added a peacefulness, an aura of a perfect Summer night. Somewhere/ lots of wheres I like to imagine lovers being drawn closer by the moon. But also, I like to think of campers, fans at ballgames, kids playing nighttime games as old as hide and seek as flashlight tag.

Ah, the moon. You don't have to have a sip of moonshine to enjoy the moon. You could even just be driving around. You could even be at work or on your way home. It's there. Don't miss it. Even when it's just a slice. But that should take awhile because of its current state. Enjoy the fullness while it's there. And if you're moonshining, get to work while the light is good.

WHERE'S THE IODINE?

About this time of the year, a couple of older girls from the neighborhood would decide to come out of the house and work on a tan. I guess they could feel the pangs of school starting all too soon. Or maybe they just got tired of doing what teenage girls did back then in the Summer indoors.

All I know is they never played in any games we did. We even would defer to the girls once in awhile and play badminton, deck tennis, or hopscotch. Not often, you understand, but by Mid-July we had played a lot more games than the Major Leaguers, so we were ready for a diversion or two.

Even tanning. Like any of us needed to tan. We had been outside 14 hours a day for seven weeks or so. But we'd scrounge up an old beach towel, borrow some baby oil from one of the girls and lie under the sunshine and just hang out. I, especially, found it boring and never lasted long around Doris or Karen. But when you're a kid, time never threatens. At least not until nighttime falls and you want one more at bat. So I could have lain (old habits are hard to break--lain? Laid out is an expression) there for an hour or two. But I don't remember it.

And I know I was never there long enough for either of them to ask me to pass the iodine.

CLOTHESLINES:GONE

Clotheslines were important to me as a child. They seemed to be a part of backyard games. They also made your clothes smell good, too. Today, you don't see many. You see fewer in actual use.

Chin ups or pull ups were performed or at least attempted on clothesline posts all over town. They were even part of our neighborhood olympics, though I never won the gold, silver, or bronze in that category.

A clothesline pole was necessary on our clothesline because it ran about 100 feet between posts. So a pole was propped up midway to withhold the weigh of many wet clothes. It served as first base in our backyard baseball games. It was much farther to first than to second, but, hey Crosley Field and Sportsmen's Park also had their peculiarities.

The line itself served, of course, as the goal posts for our extra points in football. We even drop kicked, so if Crosley and Sportsmen's didn't date me, then the drop kick will. Oh we kicked traditionally, too. That is straight on. No one I ever knew until the mid-70's kicked soccer style. And if we didn't have a holder or a tee, we'd simply drop kick it over the line. The extra points were pretty automatic, but sometimes a low hanging clothes line or a sudden growth spurt could result in a receiver getting, well, clotheslined in the end zone.

Had we had all the room for games as featured in the picture, there's no telling what we could have come up with. But I miss the games and the clotheslines.

IF MARK TWAIN SAID IT, IT MUST BE WORTH REPEATING

Even if the Your is misspelled on the plaque. So let's examine.

Dance like nobody's watching is good advice. Recently our grandson was showing us at breakfast how he struggled with the hula hoop on his aunt's Wii. He was standing near an open window and as he was gyrating I said,"Grant, there's a man looking in the window." There wasn't but he was quite embarrassed to think that a man or anyone not at the breakfast would be watching his actions.

Sing like you're all alone. I think that can best be exemplified by a singer at a 1996 NLCS game in St. Louis. Our son was just starting law school at Wash U in St. Louis when he and I attended the playoff game. Surprisingly we were seated near a couple of MTV friends. One was quite a singer. When a band played the National Anthem, Edward sang loudly from close to the field box seats. No one else sang, but there was much applause after his singing. It was very cool.

Love like you've never been hurt. Well, who hasn't loved? And who hasn't been hurt. Just like the Tin Man knew he had a heart because it was breaking when Dorothy was leaving, humanity has suffered loss of love in one form or another. Often times we must have short memories or we would never risk it again. But it's worth the risk, so we must.

Twain was smart. He had some great sayings. Except for the one about golf being a good walk spoiled. A good walk spoiled is when one is not playing golf.

HAIR PILED HIGH AND PAINT

When I watched high school girls at Prom, Sweetheart, and Homecoming dances pile their hair up high, I wondered why. When my wife did the same for our engagement picture, I questioned that, too.

They seemed so unnatural, so unlike what they normally look like with their hair down or at least combed back. Then the beauticians added pins or jewelry or clamps to hold the hair in place. Some even required solder. It didn't look natural to me, as I said.

But the older I get, the more I like hair pulled away from women's faces. If the woman is pretty, I think it really enhances her features. Even the goofy style where they wad their hair in a handful and clip it up. The sticked out hair looks rooster-like from the back. But it looks good in the front and from the side. So I say go for it. It's obviously the best looked for unwashed hair.

Now painted toenails are another subject. How did this act get started anyway? An aunt of mind one professed that the feet were the ugliest part of the body. So adorning toenails with color maybe improves the look. It seems like a lot of effort to me.

My take on it is it allows women to get away with dirty toenails. It hides the dirt that no matter what you do you can't get out. Oh, not a lot, just a fleck in the corner of each big toenail. You pick at it, especially hard to remove is some beach sand, to the point of making it bleed, and there it is: either discoloration or dirt so stubborn that only finger/toenail paint or polish can cover.

And if you think I'm totally out in left field on this idea, then how do you explain navel piercings? Stumped? I have the answer: they're hiding belly button lint.

EVERY FIFTEEN MINUTES

Rain has not been welcomed this year in the Midwest. Flooding has made national headlines in Iowa and Missouri. In So. Illinois, it seems to rain daily.

So why has the Midwest become Seattle this Summer? I'd guess it's cyclical. But I'm sure Global Warmers would wag their fingers at man, specifically Americans, for causing such a weather calamity.

I'm not one of those on the global warming bandwagon. I'm not one on the bandwagon of a lot of in vogue thought these days. I'm certainly not in favor of abortion, pardon me, pro-choice--I'd hate to offend in this PC world. Oh, yeah, I'm not much into PC either. Which covers a whole lot of subjects that I might as well not include. Ok, I'm not into same sex marriages either. I'm confused/re-tooling my ideas (an Obama pleasantry for flip flopping)/re-visiting/re-examining my thoughts on gun control.

Furthermore, I'm totally convinced that only those who believe and follow Jesus Christ will enter Heaven. I believe in our country, our schools (though stop playing political football and allow teachers to teach and administrators to administrate and pay them for their labor without attaching carrots to strings in the name of accountability. Accountability has always rested with the student and his parents. And quit testing. AIMS, Prairie State tests, ad nauseum. You have two tests--SAT and ACT for high school students. For me in grade school it was the CAT. That's all we need. A test that students will want to perform for because it's important to them. As far as No Child Left Behind--drop it. As far as Special Ed programs, great; as long as gifted education is funded equally including pull out programs like special ed. Do you mean to tell me we have more Special Ed students in our country than Gifted? I just found another thing I believe.) And, yes, I too, Mr. Costner believe in long kisses and the 7th inning stretch.

Wow! I said a lot. Or too much. Or not enough. But blog entries are funny like that. It started with a comment a friend of mine from MTV made. Our conversation went something like this: "Bob, I wanted you to know about the power of prayer. I've been praying for you to get some rain," I told him at a prayer breakfast last month.

"Well, it's sure been working 'cause I have to mow my yard about every 15 minutes."