Day Six...

When the “Dukes of Hazard” premiered in 1979, we were a little ore excited than most people because mommy’s maiden name was Hogg, she had a brother named Roscoe (who immediately started referring to himself as “Boss Hogg”) and her family was from Whitesburg, Kentucky not far from Hazard, Kentucky.

Speaking of Roscoe.  We all called him “Uncle Bill”.  He was a character.  Many wives.  Many kids.  Many careers.

But the thing I remember most about him (besides the fact that he had a storage trailer full of dirty magazines) was his “way” with women.

In 1986, I was heading to New Smyrna Beach for the afternoon, and he wanted to go with me.  We got to the beach and he stepped into the bathroom to change.  He came out wearing nothing but a cowboy hat, cowboy boots, and a black speedo.  He then proceeded to walk with me down the beach and in his very low voice would greet every female with “Hello darling”  

Every single woman stopped and spoke with him.

On our way back we stopped at a bar in Astor, Florida because he had to see a guy that owed him money but he ended up spending several hours trying to convince me to “court” a very old woman sitting at the end of the bar because she would get us free drinks…

Day Five...

My mom was deaf.  On three different occasions in the 1970s, Vestal Goodman laid her hands on my mom’s ears and prayed that she would get her hearing back.

She never did.

I asked mommy once why, and she said maybe because she was happy being deaf and didn’t need to be “healed” of anything.

When we were little, we were tasked to be her interpreter.  My least favorite was in church.  Instead of getting to go to Junior Church, I had to stay in the main sanctuary and interpret the sermon for her.

I remember the last time that she ever asked for me to interpret was at the First Baptist Church in Sorrento, Florida because that afternoon she sat me down and told me that Gilligan, Mary Ann, and the Skipper weren’t in the Bible…

Day Four...

Mrs. Jimmie Bell was my favorite teacher ever!  She taught first grade at Roseborough Elementary School in Mount Dora, Florida.

She wasn’t much taller than us, and always called us “little people”.  

I remember being taught to read, and a couple of pages into a story, I closed the book and went to her desk.  I said, “Mrs Bell there’s something wrong - when I read I see pictures in my head!”

She smiled, gave me a hug, and said, “That means it is a good story.  When it is a good story you will see it in your head.”

On the opposite end of good teachers, there was the most evil teacher that ever lived - Mrs. Bolt.  

Tall, skinny, with a bird-like face - she was verbally and physically abusive to children.  She sat perched on a stool and would make you stand directly in front of her while being interrogated.  If she didn’t like your response her hand would grab you by the throat and choke you.

All the other teachers and the doddering old-ass principal, Nelson Aldrich, were terrified of her.

One morning,  in addition to milk money and lunch money, Daddy gave me money for school supplies, and that afternoon, a kid in my class, Kenny Crawford’s lunch money was missing - even though it was Miss Bell’s class, Mrs Bolt made her way over to take over the situation.

When she found out that “white-trash Johnny Berry” (her words) had money for supplies that morning, she deduced that I stole the money.

She lifted me up by my neck and threw me onto the floor into a corner and began berating me and ordering me to confess.  Finally the principal arrived and I was taken to his office, where he tried to call daddy.  

Since daddy was at work and my mom was deaf, he asked me for the name of the company where my dad worked.  I said that daddy worked for Mr. Leonard Carter at Carter Construction.

Mr Aldrich turned white as a sheet, and started apologizing - he was shaking, nervous, and clearly scared.

I found out that evening that Mr Leonard Carter was a member of the school board, and that he didn’t mind giving daddy the next morning off so that he could come down to the school and have one of his John Bill talks with Mrs Bolt and Mr Aldrich…

I never had any more trouble out of them.

Day Three...

I was eight years old when the Star Wars was released.  I never saw it.  It wasn’t that I didn’t have the chance, it just wasn’t my cup of tea.  I would rather turn the picnic table upside down and pretend that it was a PT Boat on “McHale’s Navy”, or I would ride my bicycle around wearing a coonskin cap pretending to be Daniel Boone.

Needless to say for my ninth birthday and for Christmas that year, I received a lot of Star Wars toys.  I was so disappointed.  I didn’t know what to do with them.  I had no idea what the story was.

I finally saw the movies in 1999, when my close relative, confused that I never saw them, sat me down made me watch all three.  Finally!  All those toys made sense, but more importantly, “Spaceballs” made sense.

I saw “Spacealls” in the theatre in 1987, but other than recognizing Mel Brooks, John Candy and Joan Rivers  - the movie made no sense to me.

I was; however, more apt to say, “May the Schwartz Be With You” that I was “May the Force Be With You”

And the best thing about "Spaceballs":  no boobies.

Day Two...

The first movie that I ever remember seeing was when I was seven years old, it was a double-feature at a drive-in theatre in Eustis, Florida (it’s a former Walmart shopping center now).

I went with my parents and my two sisters.  The first movie was a re-release of “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs”, and we three kids sat in the front seat while our parents sat in the back seat.  We were amazed and enthralled.

In between movies, we went potty and got some more snacks, and this time I was in the front seat with daddy and the girls were all in the back seat.

The second movie was “The Outlaw Josey Wales” and I was fixated on the screen - horses, cowboys, action, shooting.

Then…

A boobie.

I flew over the seat and spent the rest of the night on the floor in the back seat hiding!

Day One...

I worked for a company that had a very obnoxious sales manager that would stumble into the office at 8:05am mumbling, "coffee. coffee." Then she would get her coffee, clutch the mug with both hands, and then all would be right with the world.

Since I got there early, I made the coffee, but I would make decaf and hide the packaging in my office trash can. She never knew.

Part two - whenever there were doughnuts or bagels, she would make a huge production about only getting half a doughnut or half a bagel.

By 10am there were five halves in the box...