LSMFT

   

I just learned recently that actually stood for: Lucky Strikes Mean Fine Tobacco. 

             

All my buddies said it meant “Loose Straps Means Floppy T-t---s.”  You can’t believe teen agers, well maybe it was the crowd I ran with, Vondale and Buddy.

                  

I ran with kids that sang, “On a Hill far away stood an old Chevrolet”

And when the preacher preached all liquor and beer should be thrown in the river, my buddies sang, “Shall We Gather At the River.”

And when the Preacher asked if there would be any stars in your crown, they sang, “No not One.”

Kids have fun, not even thinking sacrilegious, and since we didn’t have the video stuff, we just made our fun. I think I played one season of semi-organized baseball as a kid. We did not have uniforms, but everyone wore jeans and a white T-shirt.  It was probably a forerunner of little league (in that area). There wasn’t a lot of practice and coaching, just show up for a game. I cannot remember a parent being there to yell encouragement or fuss at a call. Just the kids and your ‘coach’ and some onlookers. As a matter of fact I do not remember umpires. I do remember it was for fun and it was.

There were still a few A-model Fords around, I cannot remember a T-model used as regular transportation.  The most unique thing I can remember was a wealthy man in Valdese, Albert Tron (?), he drove a early 30’s model Plymouth. The driver’s seat was worn down to the springs and he had a towel or something over them. A kid wonders why a rich man doesn’t buy a new car?

I played the trumpet growing up, I look back and wonder why I didn’t try the guitar.  On many summer evenings I sat on the edge of the porch at the Page’s ( small farm) while Garland picked the guitar and sang. His sons could also sing well at 10 & 12 years old. they harmonized like the Everly Brothers.

I suspect the youth of today enjoy life as much, we just seemed to have more physical social interaction.

Thanks for coming this way for a trip back in time.

Nite Shipslog

PS: (one more ‘lived’ sermon)

Today, I was traveling in Kenya and I met a refugee from Zimbabwe. He said he hadn't eaten anything in over 3 days and looked extremely skinny and unhealthy. Then my friend offered him the rest of the sandwich he was eating. The first thing the man said was, “We can share it.”

Best sermons are lived; not preached

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<^>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

1954 Chevy