Twisty, Curvy Roads

I grew up in North Alabama during the 50's. Things were pretty simple back then, it was a good time to be a kid. I guess that kids are usually looking forward, and that may have been particularly exaggerated for kids growing up in Huntsville, Alabama. It was an exciting time. Everything was about rockets and satellites so it seemed natural to be looking toward where we thought we were going, not toward where we had been. And it was exciting! I can remember sitting in school and hearing the sound of rocket engines as they were tested out at Redstone Arsenal.  They would fasten the engines to a test stand and fire them off. The sound could be heard for miles and miles. I got to meet people like Wernher von Braun whose daughter kept her horse at Mr. Jack Darnell's stable where I spent a lot of time. In 1957, my 10th grade year, the Russians put Sputnik into orbit. In the evenings we would go outside and stare into the sky looking for it. That triggered a "space race&quo

  At our wilderness camp near Brazos Bluffs, in New Mexico, this tiny visitor decided to check out our truck. He was a bit puzzled when he discovered an unseen force would not allow him to pass through to the world he could see so plainly before him! I must admit that I have often been in the same or similar situations!  I opened the truck doors and left him to learn the lesson he had set for himself. He did eventually learn that butting one's head against an immovable object is not productive behavior and flew happily off through an open door of opportunity.

Max likes for me to sing to him! Quite often I sing to myself and Max as we are driving on our trips. We were boondocking in New Mexico somewhere of of New Mexico highway 64. I started singing the song "Playmate, Come Out And Play With Me". Max jumped into may lap. Every time I stopped singing, he would make a little begging motion with his front paws. I'm lucky to have a traveling companion with such good musical taste! This song has been around a long time! It was a big hit for Philip Wingate and Henry W. Petrie in in 1894! The name of the tune is "Playmate", or sometimes "You Can't Play In My Yard". Here are the original words to the first verse: Say, say, oh playmate, Come out and play with me And bring your dollies three, Climb up my apple tree. Shout down my rain barrel, Slide down my cellar door, And we'll be jolly friends forevermore. Today's kids, raised on TV and video games, would probably not have the faintest id

After weeks of anticipation, last Monday, Max and I finally pulled out of Round Rock headed for the Teagarden Jazz Camp somewhere in the Sieras above Sacramento, California. The trip across Texas was uneventful. We spent Monday night in one of our favorite overnighting spots in Littlefield, Texas and struck out fresh and bushy tailed early Tuesday morning. Tuesday morning was pro forma, following highway 84 west to Fort Sumner, New Mexico, then north to Interstate 40 where we turned west. As you know, I really don't like driving on interstate highways. I love twisty-curves little roads because I "know" that just around the next curve, or at the crest of the next hill, there will be a scene of such breathtaking beauty that existence of the very universe will be totally justified! I soon realized that this was not going to be a twisty-curvey kind of trip. We stuck it out on IH 40 although several times I did consider lashing the steering wheel like an old time saili

Brings back some great memories. Must have been 1957. Our parents hauled 8 barely teenage boys to where Hwy. 72 crosses the Flint. We had four canoes. My partner, Owen Bennett, and I had built our canoe in his dad's garage. I lived on Pratt Avenue and Owen lived a block away on Ward Avenue. We had plans for a "canoeyak" that we had ordered from Boy's Life Magazine. Owen was enrolled in shop classes at Huntsville Jr. High, so he was the leader of our constructions project. A view of the Flint River over the bow of a canoe Took us a couple of months to complete the building project, but finally, it was ready. We hoisted it to the top of my folks' car and headed east on 72. At the bridge, we met the others who would be paddling down the Flint with us. I can't remember exactly who all was there - memory dims. But we were eight young men full of ourselves and ready to take on the world. We figured that a good canoe trip was just the thing to set us