IS NOW THE TIME FOR ME TO HIDE?

    As I was watching the boob tube last night, (that's what us old farts call it) I marveled at the number of commercials encouraging people to leave their nice comfortable homes, brave the huge crowds and go shopping the day after Thanksgiving.
 
    'You can save, save, save,' they all screamed at me.
 
    As I sat there in my easy chair, I thought to myself , 'Is now the time for me to hide?'

    I am not a shopper. I have been known to buy a car in less than twenty minutes. 

      When I bought my Toyota Tacoma eleven years ago, I remember looking at the sales girl who came out on the lot to greet me.
 
    "I'll take that one" I said, pointing to a cream colored small pick up truck.
 
    She stood there for a brief moment, not knowing what to say.   
 
    She told me later that it was the easiest car sale of her short carrier. 
    
    I work in sales, and nothing aggravates me more than when a customer says, "Can you do any better on the price?" I want to say "What do you think this is, a flea market?" But I don't. It would not be politically correct.

    I have a friend that spent two hours running around town looking for a bargain on a box of screws."
 
    "Dude," I said. "There's a hurricane coming and you're trying to save twenty cents?" Not to mention the gas he used driving all over hell's half acre.
 
    Needles to say, I am a man of few words and very little patience. So when someone says, "do you have a coupon?" or "are you a member of our buyers club?" I just stare and shake my head. 

      I smile politely and say, "No thank you. I don't need another password to forget."      
 
    Don't get me wrong. I am not above a good bargain. If my wife finds a fifty dollar shirt at a garage sale for three dollars, I will wear it. I'm not that damn proud.
 
    Besides, if you are offering me this great deal only one day a year, why am I shopping at your establishment the rest of the year?
 
    I am also a hypocrite. I humor my friend when we go to dinner by using a coupon. It makes me feel like one of the crowd. Fortunately, he'll never know. He doesn't read blogs, as he's too busy shopping.
 
    So,if you want to spend "Black Friday" out in that mess, go right ahead. Fight the crowds and the lack of parking spaces. Sit in that turn lane waiting and waiting to turn into the Mall. Who knows, you might save a couple of bucks.
 
    Me? I will take the day off and watch a sappy movie or two. And if I want to shop, Amazon dot com is only a click away.   
 
    Have a great Black Friday.

IS BILL COSBY FINISHED ?

        As I read the entertainment news the other day, I got to thinking. "Is Bill Cosby finished?"
   
        My love affair with the 'COZ' goes back to the nineteen sixties. I never missed 'I SPY' and waited with great anticipation for his comedy albums.

        I will never forget "It's the Lord Noah."
   
        During my junior year in high school, Mr. Cosby came to Indiana to do two shows at Ball State University's Emmens Auditorium. The year was 1968, and we all needed to laugh.
   
        Yes, Cosby was well known at the time, but not the superstar that he would eventually become.

        About fifty of us arrived an hour early and were in our seats eagerly awaiting the show. We were an excited bunch. The fact that I was on a date with Ann Sewell took a back seat. I was there to see Bill Cosby.

        All of a sudden this tall, good looking black man came out on the stage. At first I assumed it was a stage hand. Then I saw the cigar in his hand and realized this was the man!.

        He thanked us for coming early and said that if we were willing to arrive that early then he wanted to come out and say hello.

        He talked to us for about twenty minutes before he had to go back stage and get dressed for the show.

        It was a great show. It was like listening to a friend.

        It was so many years ago, I have forgotten what we all talked about, but I remembered how kind and humble the man was.
       
        In the following years, I always watched Cosby. No matter what I was doing or where I lived, if he was on television, I watched.

        For years my wife and I quoted Cosby at least once a day. If we didn't, the day was not complete. Our lives were full of Cosby 'one liners.'
       
        Oh how we enjoyed the antics of Old Weird Harold, Chicken Heart, Driving in San Francisco, Shop Class, Why is There Air, 200 M.P.H., and the story of the Dentist.

        The events of the past week are surprising to me, and heartbreaking.

        Now NBC has cancelled plans for a new series, Netflix has postponed an upcoming special and TV LAND had pulled re-runs of his old NBC program.

        I won't go into the details, as it's been all over the news. You would have to live under a rock not to have heard about all of the allegations.

        I have long been a champion of women's rights. Next to sexual battery on a child, rape is the lowest of the low. So low I hate to even write the word.

        Is he guilty? We will never know. I do know that in a court of law, you are innocent until proven guilty. That doesn't work in the court of public opinion.
       
        Like Steven Collins, (see Seventh Heaven) Bill Cosby will never go to trial. He's already been tried by the masses.
       
        My ex mother in law used to have a saying. 'You not only have to be good, you have to look good' I have never forgotten that.

        I have a saying that I use in life as well. 'Never set yourself up for disaster'

        Bill, you should have listened.

        I don't know if Bill Cosby is finished.
       
        I know I am.

SAVING ANIMALS

    I admit. I love animals. From the time I was eleven I've had a dog, or a cat.

    My mother exposed me to tropical fish when I was five. Now in my sixties, I have twp large aquariums. One in the living room and one in the main hall. A large Koi ponds resides in our back yard, as well as a huge tub for aquatic plants and tadpoles. I can not remember a time when I did not have fish.

    My ex wife introduced me to cats in 1975.

    In 1990 I married another crazed animal lover. Soon we had 5 cats and 2 dogs.

    Our first dog was a golden retriever/chow mix that was rescued after Hurricane Andrew devastated South Florida in 1992. 'Mr. Bear' lived a happy and long life with us. He was joined by 'Bengi' the terrier mix that was getting his last meal at the pound when Penny decided she had to bring him home.

    'Benji' and 'Bear had a wonderful life, but soon it was time for them to say goodbye. It was hard and it was sad. But yet there was a certain amount of satisfaction in our hearts, not only for the love we gave them, but for the love they returned.

    Then we were introduced to PBGVs. Petite Bassette Griffon Vendeens.  Yes, they are French to the max. I call them Hound Dogs with attitude. If they had a theme song, it would be Carly Simon's 'Attitude Dancing'

    We were put in contact with a breeder who was retiring and was looking for good homes for some of his dogs.

    We first got Preacher as Bear and Benji started to get older. He was a great addition to the family and helped nurse the two older ones.

    After     'Bear' and 'Benji' left us, I made a comment to my wife that I wanted a PBGV of my very own.

    Shorty thereafter, I was driving to Tennessee to pick up Preachers sister Star. And we had two PBGBV's

  

    Over the last year or so we have fostered/rescued/took care of two other PBGV's until they could move on to their 'forever' home.

    'Lilly' and 'Lil' were great little PBGVS. 'Lilly' went to West Palm and 'Lil' went right down the road from us.

    We still get to see 'Lil Magoo' on occasion and 'Lilly's new parents keep us up to date with pictures.

    So it was no surprise to me when Penny told me she found a PBGV at an Atlanta Pet Shelter. The PBGV rescue people determined that it was not "full blooded" and would not be eligible to go into the rescue program.

    We were both disappointed that this dog would not be rescued by the PBGV Rescue.

    His name was 'Murray', a 4 year old almost PBGV that was turned into the Atlanta shelter when the lady of the house became pregnant. He was so cute in the pictures and looked to me like a full blooded PBGV. Something had to be done to save this dog.




    But wait, there is another rescue organization. It does not have a name. Maybe we should call it the 'Penny and Lee Are Crazy' rescue.

    So on a Saturday, Penny and I arose before dawn and headed up I-75 to Atlanta.         

    We took one look at this happy critter and both of us melted.

    I paid 'Murray's' 'bail' (ie: large donation to the shelter) and we loaded him up in the van and headed back to central Florida.   

    The two PBGV's welcomed the new comer with open paws. But we discovered that Mr Murray had never been around cats and he chased them everywhere. Our beloved felines had to be banished to the screened in porch.

     We thought we could get him used to cats but it wasn't to be. We discovered very quickly that Mr Murray had "issues" and had a mean streak.

    Upon further research we found that he had been turned into the shelter because of his 'biting tendencies.' For some reason, the shelter left that tidbit of information for us to 'discover' rather than telling us.

    Did they exclude this information on purpose, just to get rid of the dog? I like to think that it was an honest mistake. I also think we will ever know for sure.
   
    So a painful decision had to be made. Our contract with the shelter was very specific that we could not sell, give away or euthanize this dog. He would have to be returned to Atlanta.
   
    On a Tuesday morning, I placed him in the van and drove him back to the shelter in Atlanta. Since it is a no kill shelter, I know he will at least live out his life in some comfort. They tell us he is now 'Un-adoptable."   
   
    It damned near killed me to make that trip back to Atlanta. It was the longest drive of my life. However deep in my heart I could not take the chance of that dog biting one of the kids next door or getting a hold of one of our cats. It was something that just had to be done.

    I don't think I will ever get over it.
   
    But I learned something this past summer. There is a reason that we have dog breeders and this rescue dog cost me a hell of a lot more than if I had gotten it from a breeder. I will be very careful dealing with shelters in the future.
       
    As the weeks have gone by, we are feeling better about the whole mess. For awhile, we swore we would never foster or take care of a dog ever again. But that was emotion talking. We are not letting this get us down and we are moving ahead. We are ready, willing, and able to jump right back into rescue at any time.

    'Lil' and 'Lilli' worked out great so I guess two out of three ain't bad.
   
    Penny and I realized there are a number of advantages in adopting or rescuing an animal.
   
    Over and above the joy of having a dog, and seeing the love in their eyes as they wake you up at four AM, is the joy of meeting new and special people. We have made many new friends along the way. Dog lovers have a special bond and common denominator. We cherish their friendship.
   
    No words of wisdom or assignment this week. I just wanted to share this story with you. It took several months for me to get to the point of even talking about it.

    I wont tell you to go adopt a pet, but if you wanted to make a donation to your local shelter, that would be a good thing.

EVERYBODY NEEDS A BEST FRIEND

People let me tell you 'bout my best friend
He's a warm-hearted person who'll love me to the end
People let me tell you 'bout my best friend
He's a one boy cuddly toy my up my down my pride and joy
People let me tell you now he's so much fun
Whether we're talking man to man
Or whether we're talking son to son
Cause he's my best friend now

          Those words were penned by artist and composer Harry Nilsson. Those my generation will remember him from his 1969 hit "Everybody's Talkin".

          He also wrote the above lyrics and music for a new ABC TV show staring Bill Bixby. Although Nilsson never released it as a single this theme song became very popular. It faded away when 'The Courtship Of Eddie's Father" left the airwaves.

          For some reason this song has been dancing around my mind lately. I got to thinking. "Everybody needs a best friend."

          Some of you may know that for the last year and a half, I have been working on a novel. And this song fits perfectly.

          My story is about a young boy from Indiana who gets into some trouble and is sent away to a boarding school. The story revolves around him, his new best friend, and the girl he had to leave behind. It's about love and best friends. 

          I got to thinking about best friends and many came to mind.

          My favorite best friends has to be James T. Kirk and Mr. Spock. Need I say more?

          Right up there with them would have to the friendship between B.J. Hunnicutt and Hawkeye Pierce. 'Trapper' John would be there too, but I always liked B.J. better.

          I thought about Felix Ungar and Oscar Madison. They were two people that were completely different, but they were still best friends.

          Kelly Robinson and Alexander Scott of course came to mind, as well as Gayle Sayers and Brian Piccolo. It was during the days of the 1960's when it was hard for blacks and whites to be friends, let alone be best friends and room together.

          I used to love to watch the interaction between Rhoda Morganstern and Mary Richards. They would just look at each other and have a silent conversation.

          And what about Laurel and Hardy (and Abbott and Costello) You never saw one without the other.

          Wally Cleaver and Eddie Haskel also had a strong bond. Wally always put up with Eddie's shenanigans.

           And what about the 'Skipper' and his little pal, Gilligan?

          Two of my favorite best friends have to be Kevin Arnold and Paul Pfeiffer. As part of my character research for my novel, I have been weeding through 'The Wonder Years' on Netflix. Those two kids had a great friendship. And it is a show worth revisiting.

          Kevin and Paul remind me of my Junior High best friend John Kalpus. Like Kevin and Paul, John and I were always together. His father worked at the Radio/TV station in Muncie, Indiana and it was John that got me interested in electronics and radio. That interest led to a life long career in broadcasting and engineering. John moved away after ninth grade, and it wasn't until the internet arrived many years later that he found me again. Now we keep track of each other via face book.

          I got to thinking about these characters. (I am sure there are many more that I have not thought of) I thought about the bond these people have with each other.
   
          Yes, some times they argued, some times they did not agree with each other. But at the end of the day, they were still best friends. They would do anything for the other person and they had each others 'back'.

          And I wanted the characters in my novel to be the same way.

          I thought about my best friend.       

          It was 1985 or so. I was working for a radio station in Indiana that had just purchased a station outside of Raleigh, North Carolina. I was asked to go to Raleigh and "scope out" the local engineer. My job was to see if we wanted to keep him, or hire someone else.

          As I drove the rental car south from the Raleigh Durham airport, I wondered what kind of person this Ed McDade character was. I really did not need any more drama in my life. I had just come through a terrible situation with a station of which I owned a small part. As well a recent divorce and a new job, 1985 was not one of my favorite years.

          I hoped I would like this guy and not have to make that terrible decision.

          I entered the radio station and asked if "Ed" was there. I was directed to a small production room just off of the main hallway. Laying on the floor under the broadcast console was this huge mountain man dressed in overalls.
   
          As I introduced myself, he started to get up and somehow his hand came in contact with several hundred volts of electricity.  

          He wasn't injured (other than some minor burns and maybe his pride) He knew why I was there and probably figured he was 'toast'. In more ways than one.

          Ed showed me around the station, and it took about thirty seconds for us to become friends. I don't remember if it was a joke one of us told, or perhaps we were laughing about his mis-step and almost electrocution. We bonded almost immediately. And we have been friends ever since that day. Ed was the one who helped me through those tough times.

          He helped me get through the 'eighties.'

          When the radio station in Indiana and I parted ways, I stayed with Ed in Asheville for six months, helping him do contract engineering around North Carolina. It was there there that I fell in love with the mountains, and had my first technical article published.

          His wonderful mother and father treated me like another member of the family.

          As I look back it is hard to imagine that it has been almost thirty years. Although we don't see each other as often as I would like, Ed has been a major part of my life. And he always will be.

          Another best friend is Craig. His wife Lynn and my wife have been best friends for years. And I consider her to be one of my best friends as well. I always wanted a little sister.

          About eleven years ago, Craig and I started to have a regular Wednesday night out for a steak or burger. And with an occasional missed Wednesday due to my travel or his work schedule, we have been having dinner together every Wednesday night since 2003.

          We have also spent many a day at Disney World riding 'Mission To Mars','Test Track', and the 'Rockin Roller Coaster'. My fondest memory is the day we did ALL THREE Disney parks in ONE day, and rode EVERY ride. Well, almost every ride.

          But my 'bestest' friend is Penny, my bride of 23 years. After all these years, she still makes me laugh. She not only takes great care of me but she puts up with all of my faults.

          Penny turned me on to some great TV shows that I wouldn't have given a second glance without her insistence. 'That 70's Show', and 'Big Bang Theory' come to mind. There are many more.

          I could write about her all day. I am by far a much better person since she came into my life. I know that I've had a lot of fun.

         She 'gets me'.

         And that my readers, is the mark of a best friend.

         I have been fortunate to have many best friends in my life.

         So, your assignment this week is to go call your best friend.

         Tell them how fortunate you are to have them in your life.

         It will put a warm feeling in your heart.

         Have a great 4th of July !! 

WHEN IT COMES TO NEIGHBORS I HAVE BEEN THE LUCKIEST GUY IN THE WORLD.

          The other day I was listening to someone talking about their terrible neighbors. How they did not get along, and pretty much ignored each other. Some of the stories they told were truly mortifying.

          As I sat there listening, I got to thinking. "When it comes to neighbors, I have been the luckiest guy in the world."

          I started to think of all the neighbors I've had over the years. Most of the memories have faded into the deep recesses of my little pea brain. But I will never forget my favorites.

          During my early years I lived in Pennsylvania. My friend Ricky Swetlitch lived across the street. We had lots of fun playing in the woods and in our little shed in the back yard. For many years, Ricky and I were inseparable. We went everywhere and did everything together.

          But in seventh grade we moved away. Off to the flat lands of Indiana. It was December 6, 1963 two weeks to the day after the Kennedy assassination.

          I don't think we were in our new home more than twenty four hours before we heard a knock on our door. If memory serves me, she had a cake in her hands. Her name was Mildred May and she lived down the street. She told my mother that she was also the local "Welcome Wagon" representative and would return later in that capacity. But on this day, she was just there to welcome her new neighbors. She made the adjustment easier for my mother and they became close friends.

          Mr. May, was known as 'Hoss', and he became Dad's good friend as well.  My brother and I hung out with their kids. Gary, Mary, and Teri. (I always thought it was neat that their names rhymed) Gary was a year older than me, and Mary a couple of years younger. Teri was the baby of the group. (sorry Teri, it is what it is)

          Mr. and Mrs. May were like second parents to me. And if I ever faltered, Mid May was usually supportive and on my side.

          We all grew up together. I hung out at the May house all the time. Gary spent alot of time up the street at our house shooting baskets with me and my brother. I am not saying that we were inseparable. We all had our own close knit group of friends. But we all got along great. I know I had more arguments with my brother than I ever had with Gary.

          My fondest memories growing up was of the many cook outs we had. Dad and 'Hoss' heading out to the country garden they shared, and returning home with their bountiful harvest.

          I remember sitting in the May's TV room watching Muncie Central win its Seventh State Basketball Championship. I can still smell the aromas emanating from their kitchen.

          By this time, High school graduation had come and gone. Then college and marriage.

          In 1976, I ended up in Illinois doing the morning show on WTIM radio. It was there that I bought my first home. All of our neighbors were older than us newlyweds.

          I wish I could remember her name but there was an elderly widow next door to us who became like another grand mother. She always kept her eye on us, just like we were one of her own.   

          Soon it was back to Indiana and WMDH/WCTW radio in New Castle. It was 1979. We bought a couple of acres out in the country and had many neighbors that came and went. I spent most of the eighties there.

          But no one came close to the caliber of Mr. and Mrs. May.

         The years seemed to fly by. I ended up in Florida (that's another long story) In 1990, my wife Penny and I bought an old house in the downtown Ocala Historic District. It took three years (and a broken hip) to restore this beauty to 'move in' condition. All the while our new neighbor Bob watched us in amazement.
   
         But the rest of the story is about the big gray house next door to ours.

         Bob Ackerman was an attorney that worked for one of the local attractions. At the time the house was a duplex and he lived upstairs. Bob was the first democrat I ever argued with about politics. And since Penny worked for a Republican U.S. Congressman, we had lots to argue about. Or was it just spirited discussions? I know I never changed his mind, and he sure as hell didn't change mine. But we had fun. We had a mutual respect for each others position. Yeah, right. It's my best memory of the Bill Clinton years.

         Bob eventually moved to Gainesville but we still see each other occasionally. And we still argue about politics. Bob gave up the legal gig, except for some pro bono work. He now owns a sporting goods store in Gainesville.

          More neighbors moved in. First there was GiGi. Now, she is a story all to herself. But as far as top twenty neighbors of all time, she doesn't make the cut. Maybe I am being unfair. After all, she did supply us with some great stories to tell around the fire pit. And she did turn the house back into a single family home.

          Next came the Bernards. Steve was a local mail carrier and Peggy was a work at home mom to their three kids. We got along  fine but never became best friends. Steve is now retired and occasionally stops by to see us.

          No one came up to the caliber of the 'Mays'.

          All these neighbors got us into the new millennium.

          Then the kids from New Jersey arrived.

          Much younger than Penny and I, we hit it off immediately. We finally had someone next door who could compete with the Mays for 'best neighbor award'.

          Andrea and Kevin Pizzuti have been like one of our own. We had not known them very long when Andrea's mother invited us to New Jersey for her wedding. So the day after Thanksgiving (our anniversary) we flew to Philadelphia. And we had the best time. Except for a crappy rental car, but that's another story. We were treated like one of the family, not someone they had just met and hardly knew.

          We watched as Kevin and Andreas two children came into the world. Jackson and Ava are the sweetest kids you would ever want to know. If I could have had kids like that, maybe I would have had a couple. But I know that mine would have never turned out that good.   

          My fondest memory is when they got an estimate to mount their new big screen. Andrea posted on facebook about how expensive it was. Penny said to her, "Hey, you have a neighbor in the business. Maybe you should talk to him?" So that evening I made a house call. I was happy to help Kevin out and they saved a ton of money.    And I am happy to say that so far, the TV hasn't fallen off the wall.

          I also remember a family heirloom mahogany table with two broken legs. I was able to make duplicate legs and restore the table to it's glory. I worked hard on that project. It needed to be perfect.
        
          The meals and Holidays we've shared with them and their extended family are too numerous to mention. Not to mention this past Easter when we spent a wonderful weekend with them at their place on St. George Island.   

          I hope they stay next to us forever. I love watching Jackson and Ava as they grow into very special young people.

          The 'Mays' are both gone now, and Terri and Mary recently lost their brother. Looking back I wish I had been a better friend and had spent more time with them. I am afraid that many of the great memories have faded. And that is a shame.

          I am happy that I get to hear from Teri once in awhile via facebook. I am glad we re-connected. I miss those days growing up in Indiana.

          As I work on my manuscript for my novel, I think of them often. They were a huge part of my formative years. They were a part of my growing up. Hoss and Mid May were not only family friends, they were wonderful role models.   

          I hope I can be the same kind of role model to the two great kids next door.

          So, your assignment this week is to reach out to your neighbor, past or present. Go meet that neighbor that has lived next door to you forever. Enjoy the time you have together. You don't know how long it will last.

          Whose the 'best neighbor'?
   
          Gee, it's like the 2000 election. It's just too darn close to call. There are too many 'hanging chads'.
   
          After all, this is Florida.

           I would never want to choose a favorite. Both the 'Mays' and the 'Pizzutis' came into my life at different times in different places. I will say that both are in good company.
    
          I am fortunate to have had these wonderful people in my life. My only hope is that you are fortunate enough to have someone like them in your life too.
  
          Have a great week.

If my last name was Smith, she NEVER would have found me

    I am not a huge 'Facebook' user. I even forget why I signed up.

    Over the years I have acquired a number of friends both work and family related. Recently I have been using Facebook to keep up with customers activities and lives. When I talk to them on the phone, it's nice to say "I saw that picture on Facebook."

    To be honest, after a fifty hour week in front of two large computer monitors, I do not spend much time with social media.

    I prefer to spend my weekends with a power tool in my hand, or a beer. But never both at the same time.

    But I am trying to do a little better. And last week it paid off !

     As I looked at the "Friend Request" in my in box that day, I got to thinking.

    'If my last name was Smith, she NEVER would have found me.'   

    All my life people around me have made issue of my last name. 

    I've been called 'Stalewater, Junkwater, Saltwater, Coldwater, Rainwater and the list goes on and on. Some I won't even print here.

    But to my close friends I am just known as "Fresh" and an occasional "Lee J."

    Hearing those mindless jokes about my name never bothered me, as I was proud of my West Virginia heritage.

    I was named after my grandfather Francis Lee (F.L.) Freshwater. Thank God I got the 'Lee' part.  I am proud of my family, so call me whatever you like.

    That friend request reminded me that I am only HALF a Freshwater. There is another whole side to me that I hardly ever think about. And for that, I am ashamed.

    I wondered if it was because as a society, we place the fathers side of the family at the top of the family tree ??? That just isn't fair.

    I got to looking at all my Facebook family members. I never realized what a diverse group we all are and how scattered have become. And it only took two generations.

    I thought about cousins I have not seen in forty years, close family members I only get to see once every few years. I thought about my nephews teenage daughter, whom I have never met. I thought about how much I have missed.

    It actually did bring a tear to my eye.

    Let me explain a bit about the other side of my family. I hope I get it right as the memories have faded over the years.

    My mother was one of several children born into the Fersch family. She was the youngest and her mother passed away shortly after she was born in 1919. Her father was not prepared to raise an infant so she was given up for adoption to a close Fersch family friend. Their name was Jennison. (and that is where my middle name came from)   

    Mother grew up in a loving home and the adoption was never kept a secret. And over the years she was able to stay in limited contact with her sisters and brothers. But to me, Earl  and Clara B.Jennison were always my grandparents.

    I was not informed of the adoption and did not meet my extended family until I was about 11 or 12 years old. At the time we were living in Western Pennsylvania and they came for a visit.

    Most of the family lived in the Milwaukee area, but my mothers sister lived in Indianapolis. After we moved to Indiana we saw a lot of Aunt Marie and Uncle Harold. Occasionally the group from Milwaukee would come visit.

    I spent many a nights before the Indy 500 camped out at their house.

    But soon college, marriage, and career took me away.

    Soon Aunt Marie was gone and we lost my mother in 1983. It was the last time I saw any of my extended family. I remember my cousin Ronnie coming from Indianapolis to see her shortly before she passed away. It was the last time I saw him. But time moved on. We all went our separate ways.

    So when I saw the friend request from Claire Fersch, I did a double take. My heart skipped a beat. The name looked so familiar. It only took about two seconds for me to realize who it was. And when I saw Ron Beck as one of her friends as well as Delores Buchenthal, I knew Claire was my long lost cousin and she had found me.   

    I guess it was easy thanks to my last name. Look up Lee Freshwater on Facebook and keep looking until you find one that came from Indiana. I wonder how many Smith's there are from Indiana.

    Over tha last few years I have thought about and searched for some of these people. But I had little success. The memories were just too faded. But once I saw that friend request, I shot back to 1966 faster than a speeding bullet. It seemed like yesterday.

    Then I again though of how much I had missed and it made me sad.

    So your assignment this week: 'Search out some one.' Perhaps a family member you have not seen for years. Or it could be an old high school friend, former workmate or an old neighbor.

    Thank you Clarie for finding me. It's time to re-connect.

WAS I THE LAST BETAMAX HOLDOUT?

    I have always been a fan of  technology. Except for cell phones, but that's another story.

    In 1977 I was the first on my block to own a video tape recorder. It was something I just had to have. I could record my favorite TV shows and watch them when ever I pleased. What a great concept that was. And it was so revolutionary.

    So I scrimped and saved and worked extra hours so I could lay down the $1700.00 needed for a brand new SONY BETAMAX video machine.
                   
 

       
    I recorded everything. Over the years my video tape collection grew and grew. I loved the beta format because it was the best available.

    But Sony made one major mistake that caused them to loose the video tape war to the inferior VHS format.

    Their first tapes only ran for 90 minutes. The VHS folks had a tape that ran long enough that you could record a movie! Sony eventually came out with longer running cassettes, but the race was over.

    But not in my house. Oh sure, eventually we got a VHS recorder. (It came with my wife) But I stuck hard and true on the Beta format and refused to budge.

    But the old tried and true machine finally failed to function. I was stuck with a ton of tapes and no way to watch them. So I bought another Beta machine.

    Eventually the DVD recorder came about and that was the end of the video tapes in our house. Add a TIVO unit and 200 channels of TV, and we still can't find something to watch.

    But what to do with over 35 years of video tapes? You dub them onto DVD's.

    So, some 2000 DVD recordings later, I have a ton of old TV shows available to watch.   

    But then I bought a 60 inch LED HIGH DEFINITION monitor.

    The quality is amazing and we love watching movies and our favorite shows in High Definition.

    And when it comes to football and basketball, I am in heaven.

    Not to mention ROKU and AMAZON PRIME

    BUT, the old Beta Tapes turned into DVD's look terrible on the big screen, as well as the analog TIVO recordings.

    I guess I will have to start over.

    Maybe a large computer mainframe with huge hard drives?   

    As I placed the final Beta machine in the trash can, I got to thinking.

    "Was I the last Beta Max hold out?"

CAN YOU GO HOME AGAIN ?

    Thomas Wolfe's novel "You Can't Go Home Again" was the story of author George Weber, who penned a story about returning to his home town of Libya Hill.

    That novel was on my mind as I made my way up State Road Three in Central Indiana returning to my home town of Muncie.

    Like Thomas Wolfe, I am also writing a novel about my home town, and was returning to Indiana to continue my research and perhaps gain some much needed motivation.

    As I drove north, I got to thinking, 'Can you go home again?' 'Is it possible?'

    The first thing I noticed was the absence of the six radio towers south of Muncie. They were a fixture in that part of town. So much great rock and roll came from those towers. Now they were gone. The studio building is empty and overgrown. I tuned the car radio to 990 and the only thing I could hear was a low hiss. No music.

     WERK Radio still graces the airwaves, only now on the FM dial. I realized it wasn't the same. Something was missing.

    I drove into the south side of Muncie, and went past Southside High School. But, it wont be a High School much longer. Beginning this fall, it will become a middle school. No longer the 'Rebels', they have voted to change the mascot to a 'Panther'

   As I went through Muncie, memories flooded my mind. Junior High, High School, and College. All of the people I met along the way. Some I have found via face book, others never to be heard from again. I thought of a few who went off to fight a war and never returned. I remembered one whose life was taken from him in a violent manner.

    The roads are in terrible condition. Many buildings are vacant and boarded up. It is not the city I remember.

   As I went past the famed North Walnut Street Field house, I recalled the great High School basketball games I had attended. I thought about the 8 State Championship Trophies won by Muncie Central. More than any other school in the state. And the terrible loss in 1954 that became the basis for the movie "Hoosiers."    

    Soon I was in my old neighborhood. It looks the same, but it isn't. I can't stop to visit. I don't know any of the people here. All the people that lived here in the sixties are gone. The place looks the same, but it isn't.

    I drive over to my old Junior High. No longer a junior high, it is now an Elementary School. It looks the same, but it isn't.

    Downtown is a shell of it's former self. Many of the buildings I remember are gone now. Only a few remain. It looks the same, but it isn't.

     I take a walk through the campus of Ball State. It has grown into a beautiful University. It is the only thing left in my home town. The factories and business that built this city have closed or moved on.

     I spent a few days at the local library reviewing the archives of the Muncie Star and Press. Gathering information for my manuscript. But soon it was time to move on to Charleston WV, the other location I am researching.

    It was a long week, full of great memories. I felt honored that I was able to grow up in such a great place.

    I came to Muncie in December of 1963. As a seventh grader, I felt as if I was starting life all over again. My father was one of many who were transferred to the Westinghouse plant in Muncie from Sharon, Pennsylvania. But I survived.

    I had a great childhood. It was a great place to grow up and get an education.

    But I learned that nothing stays the same.

    It was a long eights days. traveling some 2200 miles through ten states.   

    As I finally pulled into my Florida home, I could hear the water cascading down the waterfall into our backyard Koi pond.

    I heard my dog bark, signaling everyone with-in ear shot that Dad had returned from his long journey.

    It was then that I realized that Thomas Wolfe was some what less than correct. You 'CAN' go home again. I just got here.
                   

IF I HAD KNOWN I WOULD LIVE THIS LONG I WOULD HAVE TAKEN BETTER CARE OF MYSELF.

    As I sit here on this rainy Saturday, I have a huge smile on my face.

    I was licked awake at 5 AM this morning by my beloved P.B.G.V. 'Star'. "Get up Dad," she said in doggie language.

    I sit here in my home office with my morning coffee.

    The sounds of 60's rock and roll emanate from my home recording studio.

    I have been spending a few moments evaluating my life.

    Today is my 63rd birthday. It all went by in a flash. Just like a blink of an eye.

    I got to thinking about the old quote from composer Eubie Blake. "If I had known I would live this long, I would have taken better care of myself."

    Although this quote has also been attributed to Mickey Mantle, George Burns and Mark Twain (among others) I am sticking with the composer and jazz pianist.   

    It seems like yesterday my mother was taking a little five year old boy down to the Bobbys Corners playground to spend a warm summer day.

    Elementary school seems like a moment ago. We sat in Mrs. Young's fourth grade class room watching an early Mercury space flight on a small black and white television that a parent had brought in.

    My parents were told that my speech impediment was so bad, I would never be able to speak correctly. I later became a radio announcer.

    We endured those terrible days in Dallas.

    A major life change came when the family moved from Western Pennsylvania to Muncie, Indiana when I was in the seventh grade. But I survived.

    We were spellbound by four lads from Liverpool that invaded our shores. Music would never be the same again.

    We were shocked when we lost Dr. King, then a second later another Kennedy. We sat in amazement watching a convention fall apart in Chicago, and the national failure called Vietnam.
   
    In a flash, we were walking on the moon.

    I had already graduated from High School.

    College came and went. So did Nixon. A marriage came, then disintegrated.

    I adjusted as I lost the sight in my left eye.

    The Challenger exploded, claiming seven brave souls.

    I watched as my high school won three more basketball State Championships bringing their total to eight.

    Career wise, I think I have done well. Worked at some radio stations, ran a couple. Bought a small interest in one.

    I moved to Florida after my divorce and became a radio engineer taking care of a small group of stations.

    Shortly after moving here, I met wonderful lady and we have spent the last 24 years together. And its been great 99.9 %of the time. I wrote about that last Thanksgiving.

    I easily gave up that terrible smoking habit in 1992. Should have done it years earlier.

    Sickness and death came to both of my parents, and a step mother.

    I changed careers from being on the radio to building and maintaining the stations. Then to just selling the gear that makes them run.
   
    We all watched in horror as three thousand of our citizens lost their lives on September 11. And were saddened when seven brave astronauts lost their lives on February 1, 2003.

    The economy did well. The economy did terribly.

    I marveled as home computers came into being, not to mention that thing they call 'the internet.'

    We went from Beta to VHS, then to DVD's and now Blu Ray. 78's to 33's and 45's. Cassettes to CD's, now MP3's.
   
    TV sets grew from huge black and white consoles to even bigger color sets. Then they got lighter and cheaper. Now I have a 60 inch High Definition LED monitor in my living room. The picture went from a fuzzy and grainy analog signal to a crystal clear High Definition transmission.

    FM radio beat out AM. Now FM is being challenged by XM/Serius, IPODS, and audio streaming. 
   
    Like the economy, life is a series of ups and downs. There is no question that my life had more ups than I probably deserved. So I have no complaints.

    Except maybe when they cancelled "Ever-wood". But that's another story. And the last Florida Gator football season.   
       
    I made many friends along the way. Some are still with me, some have faded away. I had to watch as they buried others.

    As I look back, I have to say that I did the best I could. Never got arrested. Traffic infractions were minor. I never did drugs. Until last year, when I discovered that "special" pound cake.

    My father once told me. "You could have twenty years, or twenty minutes. Don't waste them."

    I don't think I have.    
   
    I wish I could be around for another 63 years. I can't imagine what is on the horizon.

    Have a great week, and remember what Dad said, "You could have twenty years, or twenty minutes. Don't waste them."

ARE YOU SO IMPORTANT YOU HAVE TO DISAGREE WITH EVERYTHING I SAY ??

    When I was a young boy growing up in Western Pennsylvania, my parents had a friend named Mrs. Weeks.

    I do not remember much about her. What she looked like or where she lived.

    What I do remember is the way she disagreed with EVERYTHING you said.
   
    If you said, "The sky is blue today," her response would be "well really is a light blue, more like cyan."

    No matter what you said, she had a better way of saying it. She was right, and you were wrong.

    As I was growing up, every time my mother disagreed with anything my father said, he would simply respond with,  "Yes Mrs. Weeks"

    I was having a conversation with someone today and he had to disagree with one little minor point I had made. Simply to show that they knew more than me.
   
    I wanted to say, "Yes Mrs. Weeks."       

    I got to thinking 'Are you so important you have to differ with everything I say?'

    I thought back over the years and realized that this person has never agreed with anything anyone says. He always has a better point to make. No matter what the conversation is.

    Are people like that insecure? Are they trying to prove how smart they are?

    Or are they descendants of old Mrs. Weeks?   

    I am sure of these people took the time to LISTEN to what they say, they would be appalled by it. Maybe not.

    So, your assignment for the week:  STOP TALKING AND LISTEN !!!

    They fact that someone says "the sky is blue" may not be the most important part of the conversation. Why disagree with it?
   
    All you are proving is that you believe that what you say is more important than anything else.

    It's been over 50 years sine the days of Mrs. Weeks. But she is still with us.   

IS THIS A SIGN THAT WINTER IS OVER ??

     We love living here. No matter how cold it gets in the winter, we know that it is warmer here in Florida than most other places. 
     
     It has been an especially rough winter for all of our northern friends.

     I do some traveling in my work, and for some reason it is always to a colder climate. One November, they sent me to Alaska. But the worst trip was to Nova Scotia in the dead of a rough Canadian winter. I have never been so cold in all my life, but that's another story.   

      I thought about that yesterday afternoon. Penny and I were sitting on our courtyard enjoying our afternoon cocktail hour in the eighty degree clear day.

     We love sitting out on our courtyard watching the birds and lizards. Penny loves her plants and flowers. The entire area is filled with color. We are usually kept company by our two dogs (P.B.G.V.'s- Star and Preacher- but that's another story) 

 
     You can tell which one is the little Princess.

     We listen to tunes on the outdoor speakers, and sometime have a fire in the fire pit.

     Some Sunday afternoons, we watch as John Travolta flies over our home in one of his two jets, coming to or from his home just north of Ocala.

     But on this day we watched as something very special flew over head.
     
     Penny saw and heard them first. A flock of Canadian Geese in a full "V" formation was directly overhead. And they were headed north.

     As high as they were, you could hear their distinctive sounds as they flew along their route.

    As I stood and watched I got to thinking, 'Is this a sign that winter is over??

     We watched in amazement as the geese began to circle overhead. There must have been fifty or sixty of them. They circled for about five minutes then they reformed the 'V' shape and went on about their way.

     So my friends, don't despair. Spring is on the way. I think it has already arrived where I live.

   By the way, shortly after the geese went on their way, I heard another sound.

    As if on cue, a large jet flew overhead, Looks like John is back in the hood.

    Have a great week.