CONFLICTED

Today's post was going to be about a small town hometown. And how we in America have lost that loving feeling. Then it was going to be about first kisses. And how I'm glad we haven't lost that feeling. So, I'll combine them and see what kind of missive is created.

MTV downtown used to be dominated by the John B. Rogers Building. All six floors complete with one of only two elevators that I used, both located downtown. We never referred to it as uptown no matter where we lived. Who John B. was is unknown to me, but my first dentist had an office there, so I frequented it way too much. Dots and Bomono's taffy were two reasons. If dentists didn't have stock in those two candy companies, they should have.

In the basement of the building was The Sub, "the swingin' est place in SoIL," or so we thought. It was where teens went to see or be seen. Nearly every Friday or Saturday night, at some time most put in an obligatory appearance there or at least a nominal drive-by.

Next door was a Sporting Goods store whose name escapes me, but where I purchased a Trap-EZ, six fingered baseball mitt that I used after my catching career ended or was put on hiatus for a few years. All I remember was the store was green and smelled like the oil that you used to break in the baseball glove.

There was a tavern called The Blue Goose. Maybe it was a restaurant that served alcohol, I just know we never frequented it until it was resurrected into the best Greek restaurant I've been to, counting Greece. It's still the Blue Goose, but only cabbage rolls, gyros, stew, pistachio, baklava and the best French fries anywhere are served.

Next to it was Grigg's Market, owned and operated family store that made deliveries and allowed credit. They were known for the best deli-ham sandwich ever. The best ham sammy ever was made at The Broadway Drive-In, where layers of the 3/4 pound sandwich would fall over the bun like a big belly over a belt.

The Police Station was next adjoined by the Fire Department, City Hall, and the county jail, housing inmates in the basement. Then came a bakery that offered freshly baked bread for a quarter a loaf. Served hot out of the ovens at about 10:30 PM on Fridays and Saturday nights, they had quite a business from Sub-goers on their way home or just out for a ride, hollowing out the middle with eager fingers. Before, of course, chewing up the tasty crust.

And as you see, my conflicted topic not only didn't get to first kisses, it left downtown with 3 blocks or so to go. You'll just have to wait, and think of or dream about that hot bread and the Griggs sandwiches. Don't forget the fries from the Greek restaurant and the ham from the Drive-In. Man, it must be time to eat.

RHONDA MCDONALD

I always liked The Hamburglar. Of course Ronald is the coolest. He's the one clown that I don't think would scare kids. They've seen him so much that he's almost like family.

But to appeal to a broader (no pun) audience, I think McDonalds need to turn the page and reach the ones who grew up with Ronald and continue that relationship. With Rhonda McDonald, Ronald's dream girl whom he married. Yep, Rhonda has taken Ronald off the eligible list, though I never heard any young one pine for him.

She could appear with him and double the marketability. Sex appeal has always sold. Nothing too revealing; in fact, the picture accompanying this entry needs toned down. A little.

We certainly don't want to be prurient. Just to get attention. Just to fan the flame. Just to keep our targeted audience from slipping away and having to wait till their children can once again desire to see and spend at McDonalds.

I've never been much of a marketing genius. And this adventure may just be that--my only attempt to boost sales. I mean I thought The Hamburglar a great ploy. But where is he today?

So if this is a bad idea as cousin Jude says, then it won't be my first or my last. Until then, just imagine the possibilities. I really think Ronald would approve.

DOMINOES--A BOARD GAME OR A BORED GAME

In my 'hood we played a lot of board games. In bad weather. Before tv games like Pong. Even before Pac-Man. Certainly way before DS and Ipod.

But we never played Dominoes. Nearly every kid had some; we just didn't know what to do with them other than snake them around and knock them over.

Our favorites were Chutes and Ladders, Clue, Parcheesi, Life, and of course, Monopoly. Checkers and Chinese Checkers were big, too. And electric football.

My favorite next to Monopoly was a basketball game where you pulled a lever to shoot from 3 different locations on the court. The ping pong basketball had to land in one of your openings on the board. From there you pulled the level back the necessary distance to let it fly. Too little and your ball would dribble away. Too much force and you'd fire it completely over the backboard and seat with frozen cheering cardboard fans.

The goals themselves had little nets made of plastic surrounding the little rims. They didn't make the beautiful swish sound, but they were good for their time. Tournaments were played with invariably the St. Louis Hawks defeating the Boston Celtics time and time again.

Like watching some first-timer eat his first oyster, it was great fun to watch a first time basketball player in that little game. You could just bet that the first shot would be way out of the arena and onto wood floors or plush carpet. The game demanded touch, only honed after years of level sensitivity.

But when the weather would break, we'd be outside. Away from adult presence. Many times shooting at hoops of our own, with an occasional shot arching over the backboard a la board game.

THE 96 USES OF "I"

Do you think maybe the leader of the free world might have an ego problem? Ninety-six times in his recent State of The Union speech, he used "I". Not counting the number of times "me" was used.

How about God? Did he use "God" even once? I must admit, I could stand to watch only a small part. I didn't even watch all of the Republican response. Shame on me, I didn't even stick around to listen to the commentators tell me what the President had to say and what he meant. I did see that on a Fox poll, that 87% of those responding thought the speech horrible. It could probably duplicate that number if the same question had been asked before the address.

But back to God. Have we forgotten the Godly principles this nation was founded on? And if you, cynical reader, think me wrong, then you don't know American history Surprise, surprise, even Harvard was founded under those same purposes. So how can any President ignore God now? Can rarely be seen attending Sunday worship services? Cannot give God the glory in every speech or news conference?

One presumably that mistakenly thinks he's in control. He may be in power for now, but God's still on the throne. And if I'm mistaken about our nation's leader, and I pray I am, then I sincerely apologize. If I've judged him, then I am badly wrong for there's only one judge.

Let me just end by saying, Barack Obama--let go of your ego.

SOLITUDE VS LONELINESS VS ALONENESS

So where do you go for quiet time?

I've known lots of runners and walkers who use that alone time to clear the cobwebs. To zone out, to blot out, to have devotional time, to meditate, to escape.

I've known others who stayed long past working hours to reflect, to organize, to create. To have some "me time".

I've known others to hike, to explore, to refreshen, to replentish.

Maybe for you, it's the man cave. Or maybe the boat as pictured. The cabin on the lake. The farm.

An old song (Bee Gees?) tells us "everybody needs a little time away", but it may have omitted by ourselves. As a singleton.

Emerson tells us that the one who is great is the one who in the midst of a crowd can keep with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude. But most of us can't do that in and among a lot of others.

So what does it all mean? Like sleep is a necessity for restorative purposes, so is aloneness. Find the time and when you do--enjoy.

STUCK IN THE PAST

I wasn't very old in 1956. But in a lot of ways, I never left that year. At least mechanically and technologically.

I still can't fix much when it breaks. I remember having a little tool box when I was about that age. It had a real, little hammer (not a real little hammer, that is, it was real and it was little), a screwdriver, a little saw, some nails and a screw or two. That's all I needed then, and that's about all I need now. Well, that's not right--I need a lot more. That's about all I can use. Except when called on, I can use a plunger with the best of them. My toolbox didn't have one back in '56.

Technology passed me by. Apple II GS was about the height of my capability. Even then I needed a good in-service by my buddy Sam to hone my limited skills. But I still don't know how to text anybody. I'd have to experiment to check my voicemail. I don't have a clue what Twitter is. You see?

I recently got on Facebook. And I don't know what I'm doing. A friend had asked a couple of questions about me and I tried to find out what he said. A survey popped up and informed me that I could earn credits if I took the survey. I didn't know what credits were for so I started answering questions about my facebook friends. "Would Nelson lie for you?" Now, Nelson is one of the most Christian men I know. (That in itself would require an entry; explaining how one can be more Christian than another.) But if I needed him to, yeah, I think he would lie for me. So I marked yes and moved to the next question. "Do you think Carol has ever used drugs?" Heck no. That was an easy one. "Is Brent a good dresser?" Well, I assume he can dress himself and he is 35, so I said sure.

After about 53 of those I noticed a little gray box that informed me I was generating a poll going out all over facebook. I thought, oh no, I don't want to do that. So I hit the back arrow and nothing happened. It wouldn't allow retracing of my foolish steps. An apology went out to all my friends. At least I hope it did.

Where's 1956 when you need it? Also I wonder what happened to my toolbox. I remember it had a level in it, too.

OSRAM IS LOVE OR FAITHFULNESS, MAYBE HARMONY

What a funny logo. A holder surrounding caps for a six-shooter above a banana or crescent moon. Maybe a toothless smile or a sunken hammock. Might be a mask, bandanna, or blindfold.

And what language is Osram ne Noromma? But the message is good. All those are good. So how to ascertain the logo seems to be the morning's animus.

Maybe I was too rash in determining the caps holder as the top preeminent part to the puzzle. It may be a picture of the spike(s) that go on the bottom of golf shoes. They may be worn off from their spider (and by he way, what's the deal with the ladies wearing those long fake eyelashes that look like spiders? Who finds that attractive? I was blessed/cursed with long eyelashes and I would trade them for average lashes. They get twisted and growing the wrong way and I have to trim them with scissors about every quarter. I hate getting a pair of scissors that close to my eye, but unless I want them to water all day, I have to) appearance and require removal with spike tool.

There are some kids toys that are colored that look like those, too. But I can't recall what they are or what they're used for. So I'll have to eliminate them in my quest.

OK, here goes-- I think I have it. Love, faithfulness, and harmony illustrated by a logo that means "if you don't change your golf spikes when they need it, you could slip in your backswing and fall to the ground as if you stepped on a banana peel robbing you and your game of the love, faithfulness, and harmony that you deserve."

Not perfect, but probably pretty close. Right?