I WONDER WHY THERE WERE NO CATS

When I was growing up, no one in our neighborhood had a cat. Not that I knew of. We were a dog 'hood.

In fact I'm not sure how we acquired our first cat Midnight. I think he just showed up and was an outside guy whom I fed. In return he and several others that followed returned my gift with their own--chipmunks.

I may not have the order right but the next cat was Smokey to complete the duo of Smokey and The Bandit who in the form of a great dog had come first. After Smokey, we had Cujo, our only indoor cat who completely lost his mind when shown the great outdoors.

Joanie B Jones and Feets were our last two cats. I've written about both of them not too far back. But none were ever adorned in cute cat sweaters as the little guy pictured.

But what directed me towards today's topic was a dog in our neighborhood who wears a tie on Sundays. At least he did last Sunday. We saw him again mid-week and he was without formal attire though he may have sported a ratty sweater.

It also unusual that I don't know his name. I'm on first name basis with most every dog around here, but I don't know their owners' names. That must say something about both me and them.

I wonder what the unnamed dog will wear for Easter. And if I will know his name by then.

AN EXCEPTION

I'm not much to rub it in. On rare occasions I might nudge a Cub fan about the futility of their baseball club, but usually only after a brag or a (yet another "wait till next year"), but I learned a long time ago about things coming around or back to me.

Lots of sunny vacations, friends have revelled in snow back home and "those poor suckers", but I've usually had friends or relatives there that I felt for. So I ddin't partake in others' miseries.

Well, this is one time that I'm glad D.C. is getting slammed. You see when the nation's capital is literally shut down because of 2 or 3 feet of snow, then legislation comes to a halt. To me, one who espouses less government is better, then this bad weather (snowmaggenden? who thunk that up?) is indeed a Godsend. If those who want to obliterate what our country stands for and was built upon and put in place something that has failed time and time again throughout history, then I say "let it snow/let it snow/let it snow".

Just think of it as a filibuster. A welcomed one at that.

MANNING AND BREES

Yep, they even played together as babies. Drew grew up. Peyton didn't.

I didn't like Super Bowl 44. I usually don't. Because the teams represented there are not my teams. Only 3 times out of 44 have I had a real interest in the game. And my team lost 2 of the 3. Including last year.

It's the thing that grudges are made for. I still will never forgive the Patsies for stealing the Rams thunder in '02 when our son and I were there. Brady and Belichek are devil incarnates to me. Add Big Ben Roth. to that list for rallying the Stealers (no misspelling there) against the Az Cardinals last year.

So this year I ended the football season with a record of 0-7. The last seven teams I was rooting for lost, including the Colts in the Big One. 'nuff said about this season which not only saw my Rams stoop to a 1-15 record, but saw my Cardinal quarterback and favorite all-time athlete retire.

So why did I call Manning a baby. Evidently he refused to offer a post-game handshake. C'mon. We learned that in Little League. They do that in tee-ball.

And the Colts weren't cheated. They were whipped. Good officiating, no coaches cheating like filming the opponents' practices (see Belichek), they had no one to blame but themselves. So give me a break Peyton--you're much too class for that. Well, at least you were.

SO WHAT DO YOU DO

when you can't remember your first kiss? Chalk it up to old age, a poor memory, a memory that was so mundane that it escaped your file, or make it up.

At KKK or Kox Kiddie Kollege, I along with about twenty other 4 and 5 year olds were exposed to out first formal schooling at the hands of Mrs. Mildred Cox. Bu the way, I think grade school teachers should be named Mildred or some name that evokes more than respect. I don't have a good term for it other than dedication, but one that conjures up no other life than to educate. Anyway, there was this girl that I liked, and so begins my story.

Her name was Ina Sue or Ida Sue, and she must have been rather hot because Benny also liked her. Whether he kissed her or I kissed her at school became secondary after the fight. Either he kissed her and I started the fight, or the other way around. But we fought to the dismay of Mildred and others watching until Mrs. Cox pulled me off him. It must have been that way or I would have cried, and I clearly remember no tears on my young cheeks.

So if it was my first kiss or not, I don't recall. But it was my first fight at school. I also vaguely remember Ina or Ida was the one who cried. I don't know if Benny did or not because my attention was directed at her.

Years passed. Fifth grade Jackie came into my life because we shared a love for movies. We went to the movies on Saturdays and Sundays and we kissed there but mostly held hands. Pecks on the lips. That's the only way we knew how.

It must have been important, because I clearly remember where we sat. I even remember her name.

AT THE TIME IT WAS A BORING TOWN

And, yes, I guess it still is. When I left you in suspended anticipation from yesterday's blog, you were on the corner by The Mammoth.

Caty-cornered was the other clothing store that was nearly as cool as The Mammoth. What they had was the best seamstress or alteration lady anywhere. J.V. Walkers was also located in a few other towns near us. There I would go to purchase a new shirt and new pair of pants about once a month when I was in high school. Total cost $10. Coach Lee nailed me there once for wearing a stolen high school football practice jersey into the store when he was there. I didn't swipe it, but a good buddy of mine did and gave me two hot items. I gave the other jersey to a girl who handed it down to her brother who also got caught wearing it. He was open enough to tell the tale and I got nailed again after I started teaching at MTV High.

Next was the Ben Franklin Store housed where a movie theatre once stood and where an uncle of mine worked for awhile. Ben advertised as a five-and-dime, but even I'm not that old. There were lots of items costing much more there. Then the Brokerage which handled cheaper stuff. I last went in there as a junior in high school to purchase white, not khaki pants to wear while I flipped Burger Chef burgers one Summer. And next to it another jewelers where I did buy my necessary rings to get hitched.

And now I leap to the west side of the street over the courthouse where soldiers' crosses were put out for decoration on Memorial Day just to the west of the big cannon on the lawn. How I screwed up and had to combine two sides of the square, I'm still not sure, but it's ok, because my memory has failed and I don't know what was where on this side of the unfrequented street. A huge bank, typical of that era took up a good portion of the block--Jefferson State Bank, maybe. Next to it was Blades' Walgreens which I did frequent in junior high. Sitting in the booths with barely teen girls was a typical after school activity. Feeding nickels into the miniature juke boxes and sipping cherry cokes. Even though I lived just a few blocks from the school, I would walk, occasionally catch a ride with a girl's mom, to Walgreens for that ritual. What else covered that block is a mystery. The "Tall Gold" as it is called stands there now and I referred to it in an earlier blog.

So what else did I miss? Musgroves shoe store, the Susan Shop with the largest Pepsi sign on the roof, another bank, two more movie theatres, another furniture store, another women's shop, Ellis' Cafe with a big Wimpy sign (not in comparison to the Pepsi sign), a watch repair shop, a popcorn stand a la Disneyland Main Street, Carps Dept. store and Summers home owned non-union store where I wasn't allowed because my Dad was union, and a Western Auto. Most all family run and operated. For more than one generation.

MTV was different than no other Midwest small town of that era. And it's no different than any now. All that's gone is the downtown shops and all the nostalgia and memories that flash by from time to time.

It's hard to imagine that it's been 48 or 49 years ago that I stood by The Mammoth with my parents watching a parade when my 7th or 8th grade girlfriend came up to me, took my hat, and put it on her head. She looked a lot cuter than I did in it anyway. I doubt that she even remembers it, but it's things like that I don't forget. A small town Norman Rockwell scene. to top of my hometown tour.

TURNING THE CORNER

As I continue my walkabout, bear with me, I have only one more entry after this one to go, I'll replicate my memories of the south side of the square. Across the street from the Jeff Co Court House.

Mitchells, later Steffy Furniture store occupied the corner across from Rexall Drugs. Both owners provided quality furniture for the King City as MTV was dubbed. Next to the furniture store was Jackson's Jewelers, one of three jewelry stores in downtown. This store was my fave failing only to entice me to buy my wife-to-be's rings there. But over the years, she made up to Jackson's for that one oversight.

Next to it was Murphy's, a department store that carried various and sundry items as the cliche goes. Roasted nuts and popcorn was their forte. A huge, too much to eat bag of popcorn for a dime. And the aroma forced buyers to drop a thin before leaving.

The Mammoth stood proudly on the southeast corner. A great clothing store that had the first pneumatic tubes that banks later adopted at their drive-throughs that took your money and poof! sent it traveling to a cashier. Like the banker on the Deal or No Deal tv show, some mysterious person took the money and sent the cylinder back to the clerk along with some Green Stamps that were good for $10 after a couple of hundred or so had been spent there. It was a great store that even handled Boy Scout unis and apparel.

For some reason standing outside The Mammoth was the ideal spot for watching parades. At least back then. Now parade watchers ad judging stands have moved to the west corner of the square in front of where our son's law firm is housed on the top of the budding whose name has changed so much, I don't even know its current vernacular. His firm is not actually on top of the building: it's on the 6th and top floor, though after some heavy rains, he was afraid that he might have a convertible office.

The biggest parade these days besides Santa Claus' arrival is The Sweet Corn and Watermelon Festival, though come to think of it, that is passe. It's now The Fall Festival. Somehow city fathers decided that the last weekend in August was a little stifling for the Summer parade and so they tolled the bell on that one.

One more to go, then you'll be well versed in the way it was.

AS I MOVE AROUND

downtown MTV from my early years, as the history books might say, I run into the Post Office. A beautiful old mausoleum type building reflecting the height of American architecture.

When it closed, and by the way, why in the heck did it close?, dances were held there for adolescents. But what a marvelous structure that was demolished for a parking lot that sits empty or at least 80%, so most of the time.

Next to it was a gas station run by a super guy who never had a bad word about anybody. It was next to a family owned appliance store and the only place in town that handled 45 records and LPs. I think they may have even had a place to listen to records before you purchased. I never used it: I knew by almost constant radio play whether I liked one well enough to buy it. I think 45s were a buck with albums going for 4 or 5 dollars.

Across from it was the Pool Hall, Jim's Billiards. Lots of high school kids smoked their first cigarette in there. Including me, unfortunately. I never was a very good pool player and when we bought a house that had a slate table in the basement, we mostly used if for a ping pong table. Which I must admit I was even worse. I guess I lost about a hundred dollars over the years at the old pool hall. I never bet very much: once in awhile on snooker, still my favorite game but increasingly difficult to find a snooker table, but the rule of thumb was whoever lost the game, paid the dime for the game to the rack man.

Heading east (a friend of mine played in the band Head East that had a recording that hit the national charts; they were by far, the most famous of the local bands) was The Wooden Indian, or The MTV Tobacco Co., as if was known. Everyday it was my Dad's job to roll out to the sidewalk the giant (at least to me) Indian carved out of wood and holding a cigar. Next to it was Laird's Lads and Dads, a store that was new in the mid-sixties and one where I applied to work, but the job went to a Sunday School buddy who was on the wok program for the high school, so I didn't have a chance. Me and about 50 other students who probably applied.

A jewelry store, also owned by the Lairds, was next door and then Dollen's Shoe Store where kids got Buster Brown shoes with golden eggs. Also was the coolest x-ray machine that we stuck our feet into and watched as our feet were radiated revealing too big, too little, or just right. Even if we were not in the market for shoes, but we had tagged along for parental purchases, we stuck our feet in there for the thrill.

Rexall Drugstore occupied the corner lot. One of the best grilled cheese sandwiches ever was available at the corner restaurant. And, yes, finally we get to the picture on the right. That's what one of the workers looked like at Rexall.

More tomorrow until we cover the whole downtown area of my youth and selected memories.