Buckshots

    I joined Melvin Simon and Associates in ’72 and they put me to work in a little mall in Anderson, Indiana.  I was then transferred to Irving, Texas, Baltimore, Maryland and ultimately Indianapolis.  In time I was responsible for the marketing at all our shopping malls, which included promotional events, grand opening galas, advertising, jingles and so on.      I served on a committee with the International Council of Shopping Centers that oversaw classes and certification for shopping center marketing directors.  There was an annual award ceremony for the best of the industry’s marketing campaigns and one year I was responsible for the event.  It was to be held at the newly opened Lowe’s Anatole Hotel in Dallas.  The ICSC gave out about a dozen “MAXI” awards, formerly called the “Sammy” award, named after a buffalo we saw in Nogales, Mexico, who could crawl on top of his trailer and tap dance with specially made shoes on hi...

     The creation of Facebook has resurfaced individuals and events from around Texomaland I haven’t thought about in years.  It is great fun rekindling memories with photographs and stories from people who touched my life.         I received a friend request a while back from someone in Oklahoma and I could not place her.  We had no friends in common and I did not know anyone in her hometown.  I thought it must be a mistake, since the individual's photograph was of a little old lady and not anyone I knew.  I deleted the friend request, thinking the sender had me confused with someone else.  A while later I received a message from the same woman with the ominous question, “You don’t remember me, do you?”      She went on to detail a series of events from 50 years ago that slowly started bringing her identity into focus.  At the time, she was living on a farm in Oklahoma with her family.  T...

     I did not get into fights growing up.  We would kind of wrestle if we got angry with one another, but it was never serious.  Never balling up a fist and smacking someone on the nose.  I heard stories to that effect around Sherman, but I never witnessed it.      I was a junior at Austin College in 1971 when I went to work at Channel 12, reading the news at 6 and 10 PM.  Usually,  I would go to the library and study after getting off the air.  Occasionally, I would join some of the staff from the station and drive the 12 miles across the Red River into Oklahoma.  One of our crew knew an old pirate near the bridge, who cooked up Chocktaw beer.  This brew was a wicked concoction, poured into quart size Pepsi bottles…not the screw on top, but the type that required an opener.  The bottle cap was removed with a bang, blue smoke curled out the top and there was about an inch of sediment in the bottom.  It...

     For many years Kreager’s Feed and Seed was located on west Houston street, about half a block from the court house in downtown Sherman.   I enjoyed the dusty, musky smell in the dimly lit, cool cavern-like store.         Mr. Kreager had a sign by the front door which read, “Beware of Dog”.  I initially found this funny because the only dog on the premises was a very old, partially blind, stinky, flea bag of a mutt, with few teeth who snored in the middle of the store.  I quizzed Mr. Kreager why customers had to “Beware”.  He said,  “I want them to beware not to step on my dog.  He is an old man and has earned the right to nap without someone tripping over him.”      The store also boasted a brightly colored parrot which stood on a red pedestal.  When Mr. Kreager was occupied elsewhere, we were able to teach the bird to recite all the profanity we knew.  He was eventually reprogra...

     I was to enter Piner Junior High School in the fall of 1962 as a 7th grader.  Piner was one of two junior highs in Sherman and housed grades 7 through 9.    This was just down the street from our new home on South Travis and I was initially looking forward to the transition.  One downside was our mascot name…the high school was the Bearcats, our junior high 8th and 9th graders were the Wildcats.  The 7th grade was the Kittens, which has to be the worst name for a group of insecure, status seeking 11-12 year olds.   That same year the school system eliminated football for 7th graders, which was actually a blessing because no one wanted to play with “KITTENS” on their jerseys.       But, perhaps the worst stunt ever pulled on me (I am arguably the most naive individual to ever come out of Grayson County, Texas,) was when my own father told me I would have to get a shot as I went into junior high.  This shot wo...

     I don’t believe my dad ever owned a new car in his life.  He wasn’t partial to any particular brand, but he hated Chevrolets.  I never knew why.  He enjoyed nursing long term grudges, so likely he felt someone associated with Chevrolet had somehow slighted him.      He bought used automobiles and drove them forever.  Big chunks would fall off the car and he would have some piece of metal bolted on to replace whatever was missing.  We had a 1954 Plymouth for what seemed like at least 10-12 years.  The car would never get above 40 miles per hour, so any extended trip took forever.      My dad insisted on perfect silence while he drove.  He had three knucklehead boys in the back seat, who were commanded to be quiet or he would pull over and “beat the mortal hell out of everyone”.     You ate and used the restroom when we stopped for gas.  He smoked his pipe with the windows rolled...

     I entered the third grade in the fall of 1958 at Bryant Elementary School…my third school in three years.  We had just moved to north Wood Street in Sherman and the school was less than 100 yards away.  Bryant also was the school for some of the disabled and Down Syndrome children.  This proved to be a blessing, as I got a first hand look as to how these kids dealt with life.  These youngsters were challenged, but they were happy, enjoyed life and as we interacted with them, I came to realize they were not to be pitied.      Our school had a bit of an elevated setting, with a chainlink fence around a portion of the playground.   The older children would show us the fence, which had yellow and white bird poop on the sharp wire at the top.  They convinced me this was the result of children attempting to climb over the fence, falling and impaling their eye on the exposed points.  This horrified me, until I realiz...