Now we're coming into the time of my life I really enjoyed. 11th grade! Lessee, I had WHEELS! A hundred dollar 1952 Willys car! If you've never seen one, look it up on the innernet. You "might" find a picture. It was a six cylinder little car that looked a lot like a '50 Ford, but it had little stubs of tailfins. It wasn't much, but it beat the scooter. I had it rigged out with a Gonset Short Wave converter for the radio, had a CB in it with TWO 102" whips on it. One fer the converter and one fer the CB! Thunk I was big Crap! Was still living in the MDJC electronics lab in every spare moment, learning as I went. Still in band, going to two damned foosball games a week! Well, not too damned, still rode the bus with the cheerleaders, har! Had now begun to repair TV's for the populace. Now I repaired TV's, sold scrap iron and cut yards. I gave up the paper route bout halfway thru the 11th. While I am on the topic of paper routes, let me mention Baird, Ms. A little, very little town to the west of Moorhead by about 5 miles. The only draw to Baird was a store that had a "SLOT MACHINE"! If you've been keeping up, you know I had an affinity for them in my formative years. I would always order a couple of extra papers, they sold for a nickle back then. I'd peddle them, and haul arse to Baird to put my dime or fifteen cents into the slot machine. NEVER DID HIT SQUAT!
Anyhow, still had the same girl, Helen, still doing pretty much the same all over.
John Kennedy got kilt my Junior Year. A dreary November day it was. Still remember getting the word between classes right after lunch!
Still had my nemesis, Coach Carl Grubb! What a DoDo. He taught social studies, which I hated with a passion! But, my time is coming, wait til next year!
Biology was taught by a college coach! Never learned squat! All we ever did was watch the films from last Saturday's game! What a waste of education. NEVER ask me why I HATE COACHES AND FOOSBALL, unless you've got an hour to listen to me rant!
Got a job as a tv repairman in Indianola, Ms. Bout seven miles to the west. Working for Mr. Jack Rowe. A true gentleman and one of the finest people I ever knew! He took me under his wing and REALLY TAUGHT me how to fix TV's. I `could go on for hours bragging on Jack! I love him to this day!
Well, my cut thumb is back to bleeding, so I am going to quit. I will either take back up in the 11th, or move to the 12th next blog. See Ya!
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Obama's Escapades. How Long Can it Continue?
We have a very deceptive
President -- deceptive and dangerous.
You just spent $20,000,000 to move members/supporters of
Hamas, a terrorist organization, to the United States; housing, food, the whole enchilada.
HB
1388 PASSED
Whether you are an Obama fan, or not, EVERYONE IN THE U. S. needs to
know....
Something happened.... H.R. 1388 was
passed, behind our backs. You may want to read about
it.. It wasn't mentioned on the news... just went by
on the ticker tape at the bottom of the CNN screen.
Obama funds $20M in tax payer
dollars to immigrate Hamas Refugees to the USA. This is the news that didn't make the
headlines...
By executive order, President Barack Obama has ordered the expenditure of $20.3 million in "migration assistance" to the Palestinian refugees and
"conflict victims" in Gaza.
The "presidential determination", which allows
hundreds of thousands of Palestinians with ties to Hamas
to resettle in the United States, was signed and appeares in the Federal
Register.
Few on Capitol Hill, or in the media,
took note that the order provides a free ticket replete
with housing and food allowances to individuals who have
displayed their overwhelming support to the Islamic
Resistance Movement (Hamas) in the parliamentary
election of January 2006.
Let's review....itemized list of some of Barack Obama's most
recent actions since his inauguration:
His first
call to any head of state, as president, was to Mahmoud
Abbas, leader of Fatah party in the Palestinian
territory.
His first one-on-one television
interview with any news organization was with Al Arabia
television.
His first executive order was to fund/facilitate abortion(s) not just here within the
U.S.., but within the world, using U.S.tax payer funds.
He ordered Guantanamo Bay closed and all military trials of detainees
halted.
He ordered overseas CIA interrogation centers closed.
He withdrew all charges against the masterminds behind the USS Cole and the "terror
attack" on 9/11.
Now we learn that he is allowing hundreds of thousands of Palestinian refuges to move to, and live in, the US at American taxpayer expense.
These important,
and insightful, issues are being "lost" in the blinding
bail-outs and "stimulation" packages.
Doubtful?
To verify this for yourself: www.thefederalregister.com/d.p/2009-02-04-E9-2488
President -- deceptive and dangerous.
You just spent $20,000,000 to move members/supporters of
Hamas, a terrorist organization, to the United States; housing, food, the whole enchilada.
HB
1388 PASSED
Whether you are an Obama fan, or not, EVERYONE IN THE U. S. needs to
know....
Something happened.... H.R. 1388 was
passed, behind our backs. You may want to read about
it.. It wasn't mentioned on the news... just went by
on the ticker tape at the bottom of the CNN screen.
Obama funds $20M in tax payer
dollars to immigrate Hamas Refugees to the USA. This is the news that didn't make the
headlines...
By executive order, President Barack Obama has ordered the expenditure of $20.3 million in "migration assistance" to the Palestinian refugees and
"conflict victims" in Gaza.
The "presidential determination", which allows
hundreds of thousands of Palestinians with ties to Hamas
to resettle in the United States, was signed and appeares in the Federal
Register.
Few on Capitol Hill, or in the media,
took note that the order provides a free ticket replete
with housing and food allowances to individuals who have
displayed their overwhelming support to the Islamic
Resistance Movement (Hamas) in the parliamentary
election of January 2006.
Let's review....itemized list of some of Barack Obama's most
recent actions since his inauguration:
His first
call to any head of state, as president, was to Mahmoud
Abbas, leader of Fatah party in the Palestinian
territory.
His first one-on-one television
interview with any news organization was with Al Arabia
television.
His first executive order was to fund/facilitate abortion(s) not just here within the
U.S.., but within the world, using U.S.tax payer funds.
He ordered Guantanamo Bay closed and all military trials of detainees
halted.
He ordered overseas CIA interrogation centers closed.
He withdrew all charges against the masterminds behind the USS Cole and the "terror
attack" on 9/11.
Now we learn that he is allowing hundreds of thousands of Palestinian refuges to move to, and live in, the US at American taxpayer expense.
These important,
and insightful, issues are being "lost" in the blinding
bail-outs and "stimulation" packages.
Doubtful?
To verify this for yourself: www.thefederalregister.com/d.p/2009-02-04-E9-2488
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
No Wonder the US is going to hell!
My friend, The Grouch put out a post today on Pimple Faced Wannabees. I spent the day from Hell today on a similar type situation.
At my place of employment we have 4 hydraulic barricades that raise up and lower upon command to stop unauthorized traffic. We have had these things since 2003. They occasionally give trouble, and up until today, I would call the company who makes them and order the proper replacement part. Usually overpriced, but nevertheless, I would get them. NOT TODAY!
I called to order a spring for one. Now this is a BIG spring! Something like you would find under the front end of an older car, except BIGGER!
Called the company, got customer service, and was told,"I'm sorry Mr. Sheffield, but I can no longer sell parts to you!"
"Why not!", I calmly asked. ""Because Seimens has the service contract on all the barricades, and THEY have to sell you the parts!"
Well, to do away with much useless banter and quotes, I worked my way thru 4 levels of bullshit from the barricade company, and after threatning to sell all the barricades for scrap, I got to a Seimens person. "Why do you feel that the spring is causing you problems?", this genius asked. "BECAUSE THE DAMNED THING IS BROKEN IN HALF!", I not so calmly replied! "Oh" said he. Well I guess we need to send you one!"
By now, my BP was off the map. Anyhow, after starting this exercise in futility at about 0800, now it is 0100, I told him to ship the spring the fastest way, that I needed it.
Sounds good?, no not to be. I got a call from a man in Huntsville, who told me that it was going to cost $400 to send me this $600 spring overnite! By now, we had already African Engineered the barricade back into working. I told him, calmly, to strap the @#$%&Spring to the back of a *&%$#@Snail and send the SOB to me at the cheapest price, that I was right before taking a bulldozer to all the @^%$#**&Barricades and selling them all for scrap iron!
In the middle of all this, all the electric power went off. I am working like a dawg to find out why. My phone is ringing constantly with people telling me their power is off, they're out of toilet paper, they need somebody to go get their lunch and a hundred other miniscule petty complaints until I finally blow up and tell em all to get $$#*@ked!
Damn! What a day!
Anyhow, Siemens. Not an American company, German as a matter of fact, has a contract with the U.S. Army to provide barricades and God knows whatever else to the Army!
There are people out of work all across this great land, but some bunch of sons of bitches that got paid who knows what under the table have put the security of this country in the hands of 1.Idiots, 2. NAZIs , 3. Communists, 4. People who don't really give a shit if I ever get a spring or not!
Anyhow, Grouch, I sympathize wit ya!
At my place of employment we have 4 hydraulic barricades that raise up and lower upon command to stop unauthorized traffic. We have had these things since 2003. They occasionally give trouble, and up until today, I would call the company who makes them and order the proper replacement part. Usually overpriced, but nevertheless, I would get them. NOT TODAY!
I called to order a spring for one. Now this is a BIG spring! Something like you would find under the front end of an older car, except BIGGER!
Called the company, got customer service, and was told,"I'm sorry Mr. Sheffield, but I can no longer sell parts to you!"
"Why not!", I calmly asked. ""Because Seimens has the service contract on all the barricades, and THEY have to sell you the parts!"
Well, to do away with much useless banter and quotes, I worked my way thru 4 levels of bullshit from the barricade company, and after threatning to sell all the barricades for scrap, I got to a Seimens person. "Why do you feel that the spring is causing you problems?", this genius asked. "BECAUSE THE DAMNED THING IS BROKEN IN HALF!", I not so calmly replied! "Oh" said he. Well I guess we need to send you one!"
By now, my BP was off the map. Anyhow, after starting this exercise in futility at about 0800, now it is 0100, I told him to ship the spring the fastest way, that I needed it.
Sounds good?, no not to be. I got a call from a man in Huntsville, who told me that it was going to cost $400 to send me this $600 spring overnite! By now, we had already African Engineered the barricade back into working. I told him, calmly, to strap the @#$%&Spring to the back of a *&%$#@Snail and send the SOB to me at the cheapest price, that I was right before taking a bulldozer to all the @^%$#**&Barricades and selling them all for scrap iron!
In the middle of all this, all the electric power went off. I am working like a dawg to find out why. My phone is ringing constantly with people telling me their power is off, they're out of toilet paper, they need somebody to go get their lunch and a hundred other miniscule petty complaints until I finally blow up and tell em all to get $$#*@ked!
Damn! What a day!
Anyhow, Siemens. Not an American company, German as a matter of fact, has a contract with the U.S. Army to provide barricades and God knows whatever else to the Army!
There are people out of work all across this great land, but some bunch of sons of bitches that got paid who knows what under the table have put the security of this country in the hands of 1.Idiots, 2. NAZIs , 3. Communists, 4. People who don't really give a shit if I ever get a spring or not!
Anyhow, Grouch, I sympathize wit ya!
Monday, September 21, 2009
Southern Living, 10th Grade
Well, I am sorry that there is NOTHING noteworthy to report from the 10th grade. It was pretty much a blah year. I got my drivers license, but had no car. I did get rid of my Sears Moped and got a Sears motorscooter. Still had the same girlfriend, Helen Smith. Was friends with the same bunch. L.C.Wakham, Frankie Hickman, Kenneth Horne. Made no new enemies, that I can recall. Still hung out at the electronics lab at the Jr. College, still learning and perfecting my lifelong love of electronics, still shot a mean game of pool. That's about it! Algebra 2, good class, world history - sux, English, ok, Health- taught by Coach Jimmy Bellapanni, the ONLY COACH/Teacher that I ever knew who was worth a SHIT! He actually, can ya believe it, tried to TEACH A CLASS!
Anyhow, that's it for the 10th grade!
It was ok, but nothing to write home about!
We will move on to the 11th, next blog. (assuming I don't go off on some other tangent)
Anyhow, that's it for the 10th grade!
It was ok, but nothing to write home about!
We will move on to the 11th, next blog. (assuming I don't go off on some other tangent)
Friday, September 11, 2009
Southern Living, 9th Grade Continued
OK, I'm back to the 9th grade. Life was good. I was an outcast from the jocks group, somewhat, but I fit in kinda well with the brainiacs group. I actually had more friends with the brains than the jocks. Remembering, I actually had friends in both groups. I discovered early on in the 9th grade that I could take my books home and study and make straight A's, but I could do my homework in study hall and make B's and C's. Guess what I did? Yup, made B's and C's. Shot a lot of pool, cut a lot of classes.
Anyhow, in the 9th grade, I met my Elmer(s). Now, for you non ham radio folks, an Elmer is a person who takes a fledgling Ham Wannabee under his wing and coaches him into ham radio. I actually had 3 Elmers. Number one was a gentleman named Karl Rushing. He was a college electronics instructor. I can't remember his call at the moment. My number two Elmer was a second year college student named Keith Worrel. Damned if I can remember his call either. And my third Elmer was a freshman college student named Steve ********, my memory fails. Anyhow, these three Elmers coached me into a Ham Radio novice license. WN5KHJ! I had a HAM LICENSE in 1960! I was poor and couldn't afford a real ham rig, so I used an old Zenith trans-oceanic receiver and a homemade transmitter putting out 15 watts. I actually made quite a few contacts. Enjoyed the hell out of it!
Back to the 9th. I studied Algebra, loved it, social studies, hated it, english, liked it, and health, what can ya say?
I still had a steady girlfriend, Helen Smith, shot a MEAN game of pool, still cut grass, sold scrap metal, delivered papers to make spending money.
The 9th grade was pretty fine, I remember nothing bad to report about the 9th.
Was learning electronics from a College instructor, still was riding my Sears Motorscooter, making pretty decent money for my age from my many enterprises, and as always, was generally Happy!
Lets move on to the 10th grade......to be continued.....
BTW, I did forget to mention that I did have access at anytime to the Ham Shack in the Electronics Technology Department at MDJC. I could run REAL radios from there if I chose, but still enjoyed my little homemade station to the fullest. There's something to be said for contacting a distant station using a transmitter you have built with your own hands from an old TV set!
Anyhow, in the 9th grade, I met my Elmer(s). Now, for you non ham radio folks, an Elmer is a person who takes a fledgling Ham Wannabee under his wing and coaches him into ham radio. I actually had 3 Elmers. Number one was a gentleman named Karl Rushing. He was a college electronics instructor. I can't remember his call at the moment. My number two Elmer was a second year college student named Keith Worrel. Damned if I can remember his call either. And my third Elmer was a freshman college student named Steve ********, my memory fails. Anyhow, these three Elmers coached me into a Ham Radio novice license. WN5KHJ! I had a HAM LICENSE in 1960! I was poor and couldn't afford a real ham rig, so I used an old Zenith trans-oceanic receiver and a homemade transmitter putting out 15 watts. I actually made quite a few contacts. Enjoyed the hell out of it!
Back to the 9th. I studied Algebra, loved it, social studies, hated it, english, liked it, and health, what can ya say?
I still had a steady girlfriend, Helen Smith, shot a MEAN game of pool, still cut grass, sold scrap metal, delivered papers to make spending money.
The 9th grade was pretty fine, I remember nothing bad to report about the 9th.
Was learning electronics from a College instructor, still was riding my Sears Motorscooter, making pretty decent money for my age from my many enterprises, and as always, was generally Happy!
Lets move on to the 10th grade......to be continued.....
BTW, I did forget to mention that I did have access at anytime to the Ham Shack in the Electronics Technology Department at MDJC. I could run REAL radios from there if I chose, but still enjoyed my little homemade station to the fullest. There's something to be said for contacting a distant station using a transmitter you have built with your own hands from an old TV set!
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Southern Living, 8th Grade Addendum
I must reserve the right to exercise my selective memory. Namely, I remembered something I forgot about my 8th grade year. In the 8th grade, I began to discover my DNA rooted LOVE for ELECTRONICS and all things electric. If you will remember, on the back of every comic book was an ad. Mostly to sell seeds, magazines, miracle salve or what have you. But one that caught my eye was an ad from The American Basic Science Club. Now the premise/promise of this was that every month you would send them $2.00 American and they would send you a kit of parts that would eventually end up as a working radio receiver! I BIT, hook, line and sinker. Every month I would cut grass, deliver papers or WHATEVER it took to come up with two bucks!
Well, as I remember the first month, they sent me a cheap compass, some hook-up wire, a magnet and instructions on how to wind the wire around the compass and pass the magnet thru the wire, to demonstrate a rudimentary generator! HOOKED, I was. I learned the basics of electrical generation, went to the library and checked out what books I could find on the subject and spent many happy hours playing with my compass and magnet!
Well, the next month, I got a cardboard chassis with a masonite top, some terminal strips, and more hookup wire, along with a soldering iron. Instructions attempted to teach me how to solder. I remember sitting at a table and using the soldering iron to melt and drip solder onto the wires.
My Mama came along and said to me,"You aren't doing that right!"
In my youthful wisdom, I looked at my Mama and said,"Just WHAT do you know about soldering?"
She said,"Move your butt over, and I'll SHOW you what I know about it!"
So, I did, she sat down and made one of the prettiest solder connections you ever saw!
In a more subdued voice, I asked, respectfully,"How'd you know how to do that?"
Well, as it turned out, in Greenwood, you remember where that is, after WW2, my Mama worked at a place there called Supreme Electronics. Later to be bought out by Hicok. Anyhow, my Mama's job was to solder wires onto tube sockets when they would come down the assembly line. Every once in a while, one of the sockets would be put in wrong. Mama went back up the line to see who the idiot was putting in the tube sockets wrong, and met my Daddy! Well, one thing led to another, and in July of 1947, along came lil old ME!
I have often thought about the fact that my Mama and Daddy were both working in electronics, got married and moved to other occupations, gave birth to me, who had had a torrid love affair with electronics ever since! Weird!
Anyhow, I continued with the American Basic Science Club all the way thru the 8th into the 9th grades. My radio DID work, first rattle outta the box, and if anybody ever got their money's worth out of the back of a comic book ad, I did!
Now, back to the 9th grade, I just wanted you to know how I fell in love with the electron!
Well, as I remember the first month, they sent me a cheap compass, some hook-up wire, a magnet and instructions on how to wind the wire around the compass and pass the magnet thru the wire, to demonstrate a rudimentary generator! HOOKED, I was. I learned the basics of electrical generation, went to the library and checked out what books I could find on the subject and spent many happy hours playing with my compass and magnet!
Well, the next month, I got a cardboard chassis with a masonite top, some terminal strips, and more hookup wire, along with a soldering iron. Instructions attempted to teach me how to solder. I remember sitting at a table and using the soldering iron to melt and drip solder onto the wires.
My Mama came along and said to me,"You aren't doing that right!"
In my youthful wisdom, I looked at my Mama and said,"Just WHAT do you know about soldering?"
She said,"Move your butt over, and I'll SHOW you what I know about it!"
So, I did, she sat down and made one of the prettiest solder connections you ever saw!
In a more subdued voice, I asked, respectfully,"How'd you know how to do that?"
Well, as it turned out, in Greenwood, you remember where that is, after WW2, my Mama worked at a place there called Supreme Electronics. Later to be bought out by Hicok. Anyhow, my Mama's job was to solder wires onto tube sockets when they would come down the assembly line. Every once in a while, one of the sockets would be put in wrong. Mama went back up the line to see who the idiot was putting in the tube sockets wrong, and met my Daddy! Well, one thing led to another, and in July of 1947, along came lil old ME!
I have often thought about the fact that my Mama and Daddy were both working in electronics, got married and moved to other occupations, gave birth to me, who had had a torrid love affair with electronics ever since! Weird!
Anyhow, I continued with the American Basic Science Club all the way thru the 8th into the 9th grades. My radio DID work, first rattle outta the box, and if anybody ever got their money's worth out of the back of a comic book ad, I did!
Now, back to the 9th grade, I just wanted you to know how I fell in love with the electron!
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Southern Living, Pt.9th GRADE. High Skool!
Damn, a lot happened tween the last of the 8th grade and the beginning of the 9th! Namely, all, well MOST of the girls grew TITTIES! GOD bless the female anatomy! I started the 9th grade in AWE! DAMN, all them little bitty girls had spread OUT! I loved it!
Anyhow, gitting control of my memories, I started the 9th grade! I done had me a baby brother. Had done quitted foosball. Had outgrew all them juvinile, elementary skool thangs. HELL! I was a high skooler! Unfortunately, in them days, we had what was called "Freshman day!" This was a day from hell, I tell ya, HELL! Course, for those amongst ya to really know me, it didn't REALLY matter a bit! My job in "freshman day was to #1, Wear a diaper, #2, ride my moped across the campus singing at the top of my lungs,"I'm a back door man!", and nummer 3, sip from a baby bottle during the parade!
Big deal! I happened upon a IV bottle, you member these? It held about a quart. I stretched onna my baby brudder's nipples acrost the mouff of it and drank "TEA" from it all day! Ran my moped all over the campus and sang at the top of my little voice changing lungs!
I was STILL in the High Skool Band, Still in the college band! And as horney a little a bastard as ANYBODY could STAND!!!
Nuff said fer tonite. Hang in LIMBO, I WILL BE BACK!!!!!!
Anyhow, gitting control of my memories, I started the 9th grade! I done had me a baby brother. Had done quitted foosball. Had outgrew all them juvinile, elementary skool thangs. HELL! I was a high skooler! Unfortunately, in them days, we had what was called "Freshman day!" This was a day from hell, I tell ya, HELL! Course, for those amongst ya to really know me, it didn't REALLY matter a bit! My job in "freshman day was to #1, Wear a diaper, #2, ride my moped across the campus singing at the top of my lungs,"I'm a back door man!", and nummer 3, sip from a baby bottle during the parade!
Big deal! I happened upon a IV bottle, you member these? It held about a quart. I stretched onna my baby brudder's nipples acrost the mouff of it and drank "TEA" from it all day! Ran my moped all over the campus and sang at the top of my little voice changing lungs!
I was STILL in the High Skool Band, Still in the college band! And as horney a little a bastard as ANYBODY could STAND!!!
Nuff said fer tonite. Hang in LIMBO, I WILL BE BACK!!!!!!
Friday, September 4, 2009
Southern Living, Part 8th Grade.
Well, folks let me tell ya, as far as I am concerned, the 8th grade sucked stump water!
"Coach Billy Hood", my cousin was gone. In his place, we had "Coach Bailey"! The sorriest scum of the earth as far as I was and still am (assuming he is still living)concerned. I didn't like him! He didn't like me! We got along all year as well as fire and gasoline! Still had Mrs. Woods, bless her heart for science and Mrs. Ryals for English.
Let me diverge a moment to talk a bit about my Elementary School Principal. Mr. Perrin Bishop. Mr. Bishop was a fine Southern gentleman. He was as fair and unbiased as anyone could ever ask. I really liked and respected him. A fine man and principal!
Back to the rest of 8th grade hell. I have probably blocked most memories of the 8th out of my mind. I really did not enjoy any part of this year with two exceptions.
I was dating, such as it was, my first true love, Helen Smith. She enjoys a warm spot in my heart to this day!
Secondly, this, 1960, was the year I became a BROTHER! My baby brother, Louie Paul Sheffield was born on October 20th. A fat, wiggly little squirt he was. (and still is, har!)
Back in those days, you didn't know what sex your baby was going to be. Anybody's guess. Mom and Dad had the name Susan Marie Sheffield picked out for a girl, and Louie (my Dad's first name) Paul Sheffield picked out for a boy. Anyhow, L.P.Sheffield popped out, after much labor.
A word about the delivery, Doctor Sandifer was the Doctor who delivered both me and my brother. Momma had been in the labor room for about 2 days when Doc. Sandifer came in with a pillowcase. Mom asked him what was in the sack. "Chicken feathers!" he responded. ""If you burn dominecker chicken feathers, it will induce labor!"
Thereupon, he poured out that pillowcase full of feathers on the floor of the hospital and made out like he was about to set them afire!
My Mama, shy and receeding as she was, told him to "Get his ass and his feathers outta her room", that she would deliver the baby when she was "Damn well ready!"
And she did, the next morning.
Nuff said, lets leave the 8th grade and move to High School.
Bye Now!
"Coach Billy Hood", my cousin was gone. In his place, we had "Coach Bailey"! The sorriest scum of the earth as far as I was and still am (assuming he is still living)concerned. I didn't like him! He didn't like me! We got along all year as well as fire and gasoline! Still had Mrs. Woods, bless her heart for science and Mrs. Ryals for English.
Let me diverge a moment to talk a bit about my Elementary School Principal. Mr. Perrin Bishop. Mr. Bishop was a fine Southern gentleman. He was as fair and unbiased as anyone could ever ask. I really liked and respected him. A fine man and principal!
Back to the rest of 8th grade hell. I have probably blocked most memories of the 8th out of my mind. I really did not enjoy any part of this year with two exceptions.
I was dating, such as it was, my first true love, Helen Smith. She enjoys a warm spot in my heart to this day!
Secondly, this, 1960, was the year I became a BROTHER! My baby brother, Louie Paul Sheffield was born on October 20th. A fat, wiggly little squirt he was. (and still is, har!)
Back in those days, you didn't know what sex your baby was going to be. Anybody's guess. Mom and Dad had the name Susan Marie Sheffield picked out for a girl, and Louie (my Dad's first name) Paul Sheffield picked out for a boy. Anyhow, L.P.Sheffield popped out, after much labor.
A word about the delivery, Doctor Sandifer was the Doctor who delivered both me and my brother. Momma had been in the labor room for about 2 days when Doc. Sandifer came in with a pillowcase. Mom asked him what was in the sack. "Chicken feathers!" he responded. ""If you burn dominecker chicken feathers, it will induce labor!"
Thereupon, he poured out that pillowcase full of feathers on the floor of the hospital and made out like he was about to set them afire!
My Mama, shy and receeding as she was, told him to "Get his ass and his feathers outta her room", that she would deliver the baby when she was "Damn well ready!"
And she did, the next morning.
Nuff said, lets leave the 8th grade and move to High School.
Bye Now!
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Sorry for the Interruption, I got a couple I need to share!
A Republican in a wheelchair entered a restaurant one afternoon and asked the waitress for a cup of coffee. The Republican looked across the restaurant and asked, "Is that Jesus sitting over there?"
The waitress nodded "yes," so the Republican requested that she give Jesus a cup of coffee, on him.
The next patron to come in was a Libertarian with a hunched back. He shuffled over to a booth, painfully sat down, and asked the waitress for a cup of hot tea. He also glanced across the restaurant and asked, "Is that Jesus over there?"
The waitress nodded, so the Libertarian asked her to give Jesus a cup of hot tea, "My treat."
The third patron to come into the restaurant was a Democrat on crutches.
He hobbled over to a booth, sat down and hollered, "Hey there, honey! How's about getting' me a cold glass of Miller Light?"
He, too, looked across the restaurant and asked, "Is that God's boy over there?"
The waitress once more nodded, so the Democrat directed her to give Jesus a cold glass of beer. "On my bill," he said.
As Jesus got up to leave, he passed by the Republican, touched him and said, "For your kindness, you are healed." The Republican felt the strength come back into his legs, got up, and danced a jig out the door.
Jesus also passed by the Libertarian, touched him and said, "For your kindness, you are healed." The Libertarian felt his back straightening up, and he raised his hands, praised the Lord and did a series of back flips out the door.
Then Jesus walked towards the Democrat. The Democrat jumped up and yelled, "Don't touch me, I'm collecting disability!!!"
Southern Living, 7th Grade Continued
Well, last time I got started in the 7th grade. I quit the blog after my cousin, Billy Hood got his comeuppance from my Dad. That was really bad. I didn't mean any harm to Billy, as I said, me and Freddie had us a contest going.
Anyhow, my football career started and ended in the 7th grade. Went out for PeeWee football as they called it in those days. Now I was and am and have been since the age of 5, a big old boy. I played right guard and tackle. I really did enjoy playing. BUT!!! In practice, one of the things we practiced was to line up and let the opposing lineman hit you and knock you down. Now, I really wasn't built that way. My reflexes MADE me knock him down when he charged me. I just couldn't help it. Anyhow, "Coach Hood" gave me down the river and rode me hard cause I wouldn't stand there and let somebody knock the shit outta me. After the 15th or 20th time of getting my young ass chewed out for blocking the opposing lineman in practice, I told him to stick it. I QUIT! Course I caught hell over that from my teammates. The coach put em all up to calling me a quitter and so forth. The usual childish bullshit. But I stayed quit.
Anyhow, continuing with the 7th grade, let me talk a bit about Mrs. Woods. As I have said, Mrs. Woods taught science. I'm sorry, but Mrs. Woods did not know shit about science. I, on the other hand was quite a junior scientist in those days. Science has ALWAYS been my forte'.
Anyhow, once upon a time she told us to all build a science project for class. Putting my devious little mind to it, I took a coffee can and wrapped about 15 feet of bare copper wire around it, put a plug and switch on it and took it to class and told her I had made a toaster!
Well, she didn't know any better, and I didn't tell her any different, SHE PLUGGED IT IN! A DEAD SHORT! Put most of the Moorhead Elementary School in the dark for about a half hour! I laughed my young ass off! After the lights got fixed she asked me what was wrong with my toaster and I told her that it was "Really designed to run off 220 volts, that 110 just wasn't powerful enough to run it!" I got an A+ on the project!
Anyhow, as you can tell, I bullshat my way thru science class. English was a different matter.
Mrs.Ryals was the English teacher. Bless her heart, she was an old woman. She seriously wanted us to learn to speak and write proper English! Heathens that we were, we managed to actually give her a nervous breakdown time we got to the 8th grade. Oh Well, Nobody ever said the job would be easy!
I am still going to the High School and College and playing in their bands, so I am now leaving the 7th grade! Stay tuned for the 8th grade, a year that will live in infamy! Unfortunately, to me!
Anyhow, my football career started and ended in the 7th grade. Went out for PeeWee football as they called it in those days. Now I was and am and have been since the age of 5, a big old boy. I played right guard and tackle. I really did enjoy playing. BUT!!! In practice, one of the things we practiced was to line up and let the opposing lineman hit you and knock you down. Now, I really wasn't built that way. My reflexes MADE me knock him down when he charged me. I just couldn't help it. Anyhow, "Coach Hood" gave me down the river and rode me hard cause I wouldn't stand there and let somebody knock the shit outta me. After the 15th or 20th time of getting my young ass chewed out for blocking the opposing lineman in practice, I told him to stick it. I QUIT! Course I caught hell over that from my teammates. The coach put em all up to calling me a quitter and so forth. The usual childish bullshit. But I stayed quit.
Anyhow, continuing with the 7th grade, let me talk a bit about Mrs. Woods. As I have said, Mrs. Woods taught science. I'm sorry, but Mrs. Woods did not know shit about science. I, on the other hand was quite a junior scientist in those days. Science has ALWAYS been my forte'.
Anyhow, once upon a time she told us to all build a science project for class. Putting my devious little mind to it, I took a coffee can and wrapped about 15 feet of bare copper wire around it, put a plug and switch on it and took it to class and told her I had made a toaster!
Well, she didn't know any better, and I didn't tell her any different, SHE PLUGGED IT IN! A DEAD SHORT! Put most of the Moorhead Elementary School in the dark for about a half hour! I laughed my young ass off! After the lights got fixed she asked me what was wrong with my toaster and I told her that it was "Really designed to run off 220 volts, that 110 just wasn't powerful enough to run it!" I got an A+ on the project!
Anyhow, as you can tell, I bullshat my way thru science class. English was a different matter.
Mrs.Ryals was the English teacher. Bless her heart, she was an old woman. She seriously wanted us to learn to speak and write proper English! Heathens that we were, we managed to actually give her a nervous breakdown time we got to the 8th grade. Oh Well, Nobody ever said the job would be easy!
I am still going to the High School and College and playing in their bands, so I am now leaving the 7th grade! Stay tuned for the 8th grade, a year that will live in infamy! Unfortunately, to me!
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Southern Living, 7th Grade
Hey Gang, I'm back. Wednesday, September 2nd.
Been a busy weekend and week. I am taking a vacation day Thursday to cut grass and get ready for my oldest daughter Sam's baby shower to be held at La Haciendado De La Sheffield this weekend. If ye haven't heard, Samantha is carrying my very first homemade grandboy, name TBD, who is due in December. I am cooking a shoulder and if youse want some gowood bar-b-cue, show up Sardee afternoon wif an appropriate gift fer mah new granbaby!
Anyhow, it is now 1959. I am in the seventh grade. My first experience with multiple teachers. In the past, I have only had one teacher at a time.
Now I have Billy Hood (who is my first cousin) teaching homeroom, Mrs. Woods teaching science and Mrs. Ryals teaching English ( a thankless job in the South!)
Anyhow, as I said, Billy, my teacher and cousin is also Freddie Matthews Brother-in-law! As you remember, Freddie was onna my good friends.
One interesting thing about the seventh grade was that Billy, in order to show the world that he was impartial, would beat the shit out of me and Freddie every chance he got! No matter who did what to who, either me or Freddie would get a whuppin. After a while, since we both survived the whuppin, it became a contest between the two of us to see just who could get the MOST whuppins that year. I remember well, about Jan. or Feb. of 1960, me and Fred were neck in neck. We both were at about 20 something whuppins each. One day George Scroggins and Barbara Aldrige (two of my classmates) got into a scuffle at the water fountain after lunch was over. I patiently waited til the fight was over in order to get a drink of water. Well, along came Billy, AKA "Coach Hood"! He jerked both them up and looked at me and said "Come with me!"
So, I went along, thinking he wanted me for a witness. Nope! He whupped George and Barbara for fighting and whupped me for watching! Go figger!
Anyhow, no big deal! Put me one up in front of Freddie in the ass beating contest!
BUT! Now here's something from the past that's one of the problems today! At supper. In the good old days, everybody in the family was at the supper table. Mama, Daddy and whoever! It was a Capitol Offense to not be at the supper table! I am not shitting you! You WERE THERE!!! Nowadays there is no supper table. There aint no daddy, mama is strung out, brother is in jail, whatever! If famblies could still congregate at the supper table, the world would be a better place! No kidding!
Anyhow, that night at the supper table, while eating some of my Momma's fabulous biscuits, she said,"How was your day?" Looking at me. Thinking NOTHING at all about it, I simply said,"Nothing special, a usual day. Got my butt whupped by Billy for watching George and Barbara fight." I seriously didn't think a thing about it!
But, my Mama said,"What!" So I repeated it, still seeing no big deal.
Mama looked at Daddy, saying nary a word, and my Daddy got up from the supper table, an unheard of event, walked out the front door and down the street to Billy Hood's house. He lived about a block down the street.
Stupid me asked,"Where's Daddy going?"
"To get to the bottom of this!", my Mama replied.
Oh shit, I stirred up something. Not deliberately, just making supper conversation.
Not worrying a lot about it, I ate a few more biscuits, a few more helpings of peas and okra and some of my Mama's world famous butter roll, and Daddy came back into the house, sat back down, looked at me and said,"This whuppin shit is OVER! Do you understand?"
Hell, I was petrified! I never seen my Daddy mad at anyone but me! I said, "But Daddy, I didn't set out to get a whuppin!"
Then I realized, Daddy wasn't mad at me, he had been down to give Billy Hood a whuppin, cussin, thrashing or whatever grown folks did.
Daddy said"This shit is over! If Billy ever whups you again, I damn well better know about it! DO YOU UNDERSTAND!?"
"Yessir!", what more could I say? That ended the contest. Freddie won by default. Billy never did even THINK about paddling my fat ass no more! Dammit!
Anyhow, a lot more of the 7th grade to go! Gonna quit now with this admonition! Look at what I have written. Listen to my words. At the time, it didn't phaze me, but in retrospect, I sincerely hope and pray that I was the EXACT SAME KIND OF DADDY THAT MY DADDY WAS!
End of story.....
Been a busy weekend and week. I am taking a vacation day Thursday to cut grass and get ready for my oldest daughter Sam's baby shower to be held at La Haciendado De La Sheffield this weekend. If ye haven't heard, Samantha is carrying my very first homemade grandboy, name TBD, who is due in December. I am cooking a shoulder and if youse want some gowood bar-b-cue, show up Sardee afternoon wif an appropriate gift fer mah new granbaby!
Anyhow, it is now 1959. I am in the seventh grade. My first experience with multiple teachers. In the past, I have only had one teacher at a time.
Now I have Billy Hood (who is my first cousin) teaching homeroom, Mrs. Woods teaching science and Mrs. Ryals teaching English ( a thankless job in the South!)
Anyhow, as I said, Billy, my teacher and cousin is also Freddie Matthews Brother-in-law! As you remember, Freddie was onna my good friends.
One interesting thing about the seventh grade was that Billy, in order to show the world that he was impartial, would beat the shit out of me and Freddie every chance he got! No matter who did what to who, either me or Freddie would get a whuppin. After a while, since we both survived the whuppin, it became a contest between the two of us to see just who could get the MOST whuppins that year. I remember well, about Jan. or Feb. of 1960, me and Fred were neck in neck. We both were at about 20 something whuppins each. One day George Scroggins and Barbara Aldrige (two of my classmates) got into a scuffle at the water fountain after lunch was over. I patiently waited til the fight was over in order to get a drink of water. Well, along came Billy, AKA "Coach Hood"! He jerked both them up and looked at me and said "Come with me!"
So, I went along, thinking he wanted me for a witness. Nope! He whupped George and Barbara for fighting and whupped me for watching! Go figger!
Anyhow, no big deal! Put me one up in front of Freddie in the ass beating contest!
BUT! Now here's something from the past that's one of the problems today! At supper. In the good old days, everybody in the family was at the supper table. Mama, Daddy and whoever! It was a Capitol Offense to not be at the supper table! I am not shitting you! You WERE THERE!!! Nowadays there is no supper table. There aint no daddy, mama is strung out, brother is in jail, whatever! If famblies could still congregate at the supper table, the world would be a better place! No kidding!
Anyhow, that night at the supper table, while eating some of my Momma's fabulous biscuits, she said,"How was your day?" Looking at me. Thinking NOTHING at all about it, I simply said,"Nothing special, a usual day. Got my butt whupped by Billy for watching George and Barbara fight." I seriously didn't think a thing about it!
But, my Mama said,"What!" So I repeated it, still seeing no big deal.
Mama looked at Daddy, saying nary a word, and my Daddy got up from the supper table, an unheard of event, walked out the front door and down the street to Billy Hood's house. He lived about a block down the street.
Stupid me asked,"Where's Daddy going?"
"To get to the bottom of this!", my Mama replied.
Oh shit, I stirred up something. Not deliberately, just making supper conversation.
Not worrying a lot about it, I ate a few more biscuits, a few more helpings of peas and okra and some of my Mama's world famous butter roll, and Daddy came back into the house, sat back down, looked at me and said,"This whuppin shit is OVER! Do you understand?"
Hell, I was petrified! I never seen my Daddy mad at anyone but me! I said, "But Daddy, I didn't set out to get a whuppin!"
Then I realized, Daddy wasn't mad at me, he had been down to give Billy Hood a whuppin, cussin, thrashing or whatever grown folks did.
Daddy said"This shit is over! If Billy ever whups you again, I damn well better know about it! DO YOU UNDERSTAND!?"
"Yessir!", what more could I say? That ended the contest. Freddie won by default. Billy never did even THINK about paddling my fat ass no more! Dammit!
Anyhow, a lot more of the 7th grade to go! Gonna quit now with this admonition! Look at what I have written. Listen to my words. At the time, it didn't phaze me, but in retrospect, I sincerely hope and pray that I was the EXACT SAME KIND OF DADDY THAT MY DADDY WAS!
End of story.....
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