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http://heartlandmemories.com/bits/Marthanetics.mp3
Ah, yes – the holiday season. Most retailers and some consumers believe it starts in mid-September and continues through January 15. We are besieged by The Great Pumpkin, regaled with stories of The Pilgrims, who were, incidentally, not The Pilgrims but only pilgrims, beaten over the head by the Jolly Old […]
http://heartlandmemories.com/bits/CellPhony.mp3
Some of the individuals who know me would tell you that Ol’ Lewis has yet to enter the 1990s. Not true. I have recently plunged into the 2000s. My bride and I, because we live in a very remote area, have recently given up landlines entirely, and now have opted for cell phones only […]
Swines, Swinettes, and Swinitos http://heartlandmemories.com/bits/Pigs.mp3
I like pigs. I’ve known a great number of them in my life – some good, some bad, some dangerous – but on the whole, I find a great deal to recommend them. I certainly find pigs less tedious than some of those pre-shrunk, permanently vibrating, ankle tall, remote control […]
http://heartlandmemories.com/bits/MrWilsonsWar.mp3
When I was young, every 4th of July, my grandfather would load us up and drive to the big fireworks display at the football stadium in a nearby city. He said the airborn bombs “put him in the mind of” World War One.
When the United States entered the First World War, my granddad […]
http://heartlandmemories.com/bits/ToLikeOrNotToLike.mp3
A few months ago, I was approached by a young woman I have known for some time. She is only about half my age – a city girl, a secretary at a small business about 30 miles from where I lurk in the Missouri Outback.
“How long have you and Laura been married?” she […]
http://heartlandmemories.com/bits/UnidentifiedFlyingWhat.mp3
When I was a lad, kite flying was popular among me and my peers – a ragtag crew of Cub Scout, river-rat little leaguers. In those days, one could not journey to the local mart and purchase some exotic piece of airborne art for a few bucks. Oh, no. The best we could manage […]
http://heartlandmemories.com/bits/TheHunt.mp3
Amos Beals was an immense man, at least to my little kid eyes. Distantly related to my grandfather, Amos lived out in the country on a hardscrabble farm and was perpetually clothed in a railroad engineer’s cap, bib overalls – or “biblicals” as he called them – and brogan shoes. A shirt was optional, […]
http://heartlandmemories.com/bits/IslandGirl.mp3
Don Young was a ladies man. He had been a ladies man for as long as I’d known him – since about third grade. He was not a cad, not a heartbreaker, he did not kiss and tell. He simply loved women and they loved him back. Don was a year older than I, […]
Planting the Seed http://heartlandmemories.com/bits/OnceUponATime.mp3
“Got a minute?” he asked.
I’d seen him around the area for the past few days. He was busy, landscaping mostly – installing water features, planting trees. He was a hard worker, and so old I couldn’t even guess at his age. It didn’t seem to affect him. He labored like […]
Playing God http://heartlandmemories.com/bits/CatholicFish.mp3
A young woman and I were visiting the other day and she confessed to me that she was a Catholic. While I subscribe to no particular religion myself, I certainly begrudge no one else his or her faith, but she seemed apologetic at her confession, saying that she wasn’t even sure if […]
http://heartlandmemories.com/bits/Chirp.mp3
I want a bird.
Before this goes any farther, I would like to thank all of you who have so unselfishly given me “the bird” over the years, especially the very nice lady in the grocery store parking lot last week, but this type of bird is the feathered variety.
I had a bird […]
http://heartlandmemories.com/bits/StopOrIllIll.mp3
Back in the days when I was a cop, my least favorite thing to do was writing traffic tickets, but, as a rookie waiting assignment to a real shift while languishing on the day trick, I was often forced into generating a little revenue for the city. Not that we had quotas – we […]
Here Kitty, Kitty http://heartlandmemories.com/bits/TheSmellWillTell.mp3
I never did understand why Steve Seymour wanted a skunk. When I was small, my Uncle Floyd had a skunk, de-scented, that lived in the house with him and his wife, Flo. It was a low-slung, black waddle with white stripes that would occasionally scuttle out from under the […]
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