BUGGY WHIP FOR SALE

Hang on to the things you value because we're moving at full speed ahead! The world has progressed from crank telephones to instant messaging in less than a century. We have gone from exploring neighorhoods on Big Wheels and bicycles to exploring the moon in lunar modules. Buggy whips are gone forever.

Boomers were raised with 'up-to-the-minute' things that are quickly fading from use and sight. I read in the newspaper this week that hundreds of US Post Office buildings will be closing their doors forever. Have you noticed the disappearance of those blue mailboxes that stood on every corner? Benjamin Franklin was the first US Post Master about 1775. It was the reliable means of transporting important words and documents. On September 15, 2011, it was announced 250 mail-handling facilities throughout the nation are slated for permanent closure. By 1220, the US Postal Service will have gone the way of the buggy whip. If you don't already have one, it's time to invest in a modern cell phone.

Newspapers and books will soon be a thing of th past. There is little point to retrieving your morning edition of the Herald, Post or Bulletin from your lilac bushes. It contains yesterday's news - the same news you saw on television last night or read about on your cell phone as it occurred. What was newspapers and book (print media) is now at your fingertips with computers, e-books, ePads, iPads and eReaders, etc.

In recent weeks instant messaging informed the world of the death of Apple's Steve Jobs. Electronic/Instant phones rallied large numbers of people to peaceful and not so peaceful causes. Cell phones with GPS have brought quick assistance to persons in distress. A 'down' side (as there is always more than one side to everything) of this speedy information is troublesome in that troublemakers have the same messaging access as the good guys. The worst-case scenerio is a communications system 'black out' - such an event happened (with Blackberry) in Mid- October, halting both business and personal cummunications for several days. Yet, we are speeding forward with e-devices in spite of obstacles. With easy access to personal data, profiles, GPS and cameras, individual privacy seems to be going the way of the buggy whip.

I recommend you enjoy all the items of nostalgia you can - while you can: TVs, CDs, games, books, or love letters. They may disappear in a 'poof' of innovation or fade away in a cloud of 'progress' as we move forward at full speed. I am still the dinasour with a land-line phone and Mozart CDs. I have a library of books but rely on Google, Yahoo and Wikipedia for instant research. As you can tell, I'm not moving at 'full speed ahead' but I am dancing as fast as I can!
How about you? How quickly are you adjusting? I'd like to know.

KEEP IT SIMPLE

Most things in life turn out well, better or great when we remember to "Keep It Simple." ...Usually...

Humans have a tendency to complicate or misinterpret things like facts, feelings, information or conversations. Everyone needs a reminder to 'slow down,' 'take it ease' or 'keep it simple' at one time or another. We get carried away with projects, responsibilities, work or life and thinking. Humor gets lost when we think, 'it's all up to me.'

Certainly we want to be helpful, get involved, have fun and take responsibility. All those things are accomplished most effectively when we've taken care of ourselves first. Sounds selfish, but it is true. If you were the machine transporting precious cargo, providing comfort and safety for others, you would keep in good working order, properly fueled and maintained. It is more important for each human to maintain good working order. Yet, Keep It Simple.

Too much detail may add confusion. There are some things that require complicated knowledge, experience, alertness or resoning, or occasions without prerequisite information and caution when things can go awry. On the other hand, one might want to make a judgement call where simplicity is concerned. Too simple may be little. This newly popular 'texting,' though simple and brief, has led (so I have heard) to problems ranging from simple misunderstanding to major disasters. Here's my e-mail case: Did that email tell me what I think it did or was it telling me something else?

I plan to attened a MahJongg Tournament. My application was submitted later than most. The email attachment I received wouldn't download with the computer program I use. So, a friend printed out the application for me. I hastily filled in the blanks, wrote a check and dropped it in the mailbox. That was easy. Two days later, I received an email from the Tournament organizer. (She is a woman of few words and employs a 'Keep It Simple" management style.) "DEAR NANCY: I NEED TO KNOW WHAT YOU WANT TO EAT???? #1 OR #2 PLEASE LET ME KNOW (signed) xxxx.

I am an advocate of three-word messages, mantras and 'Keep It Simple.'
Obviously, 'simple' doesn't always convey a tasteful message. I'll be eating #2.

What has your "Keep It Simple" experience been? Tell me. I'd like to know.

AUTUMN HOROSCOPE

I read my horoscope on a regular basis. Don't you? It is a confirmation of being alive, of having a life and stuff happening. I choose to believe only the parts I like, however. I disqualify everything else. When the horoscoper tells me to 'go have fun' or 'save your energy' I try to keep those suggestions in mind. When it says 'A wonderful future is coming your way' I expect it is absolutely true!

I don't usually read just any old horoscope; I read one specific to Pisces (that's two fish swimming in opposite directions) - because it includes the date I was born. (In the Chinese horoscope calendar, I am a Monkey - nobody is surprised.) A horoscope appeared in my newpaper daily, except on Sunday - when there was no newspaper delivery. But, I let my subscription expire and weaning off a daily horoscope was not easy! Could having no horoscope mean the end of my being alive, having a life and stuff happening - then who'd bake cookies, write stories, or laugh at my jokes if I wasn't here to love and care about you?

Aha! I found a magazine with a seasonal review of what the stars have in store. Maybe this will fill my horoscope gap: Someone special may enter my life in September. My work related matters will improve in November. I have good odds for winning a 'big ticket item' in October - and I certainly hope it is one of those really huge lotteries. (I must remember to buy a ticket!) Huge amounts of money to spare will fill in all my gaps nicely, thank you.

Meantime, I plan to enjoy this autumn - my favorite time of year. Although green is my most favorite color, the yellow, orange and reds of autumn are a pleasure to my eyes. This is a beautiful time to see the landscape colors changing, to gather nuts, bite into an apple, smell a pecan pie baking and taste the vegetable garden in a bowl of Tortolini Soup.

Whether you read your horoscope or not, I hope the stars have all good things in store for you: A wonderful future, good health, ambition, romance, money and self esteem, good fortune and a few welcome surprises. Don't forget to smile and keep on dancing...

Apples mellow, pumpkins yellow
tell the time of year;
Nuts are falling, nature's calling
Autumn Time is Here.

UNCLE ROY - AND THE BEAT GOES ON...

During the past six weeks, since his collapse and heart attack, our family members keep Roy in our thoughts and prayers. Each of us has heartwarming, funny or thought-provoking stories to tell about Roy. Now is a good time to write them down to share with one another. So, Roy D. the younger, starts us thinking with this recollection of Roy D., the elder:

UNCLE ROY

I always think of my Uncle Roy as a musician. He is, of course, many other things as well; a multi-faceted person if there ever was one, but my earliest memories of him are of him plyaing that large cello-shaped electric arch-top guitar, and the sound that came from the wonderful box that lit up with glowing vacuum tubes in the back of it - called an amplifier. Uncle Roy plays very expressively. His foot taps, his head bobs and his expression changes at the turn of a pretty sounding chord.

We always had some kind of musical instrument at (my) home, be it a keyboard or a mandolin or a ukelele or some other guitar-like thing. I used to pick out little melodies and chords - just sort of 'trial and error.'

Then when I was around ten years old, my mother, who was a bookkeeper for Lyon and Healy in Chicago brought me home a three-quarter size acoustic guitar and a "How to play the Guitar" course that had written material and phonograph records. After that, I spent a lot of time with my guitar and a phonograph trying to play what was on the records. Every time we went to visit Uncle Roy, I brought my guitar.

By the time I started 7th grade I was taking guitar lessons at "Burke's Music" in Wheaton, Illinois - where I gave lessons many years later. Burke's music was a short walk from the train station and my friend Alex and I were allowed, once a week on Saturdays, to take the train into Wheaton for our lessons.

We were the cats! Getting on and off the train with our guitar cases and walking to and from the music store that was full of musicians, some of them pros, listening to the stories they told and looking at the instruments they had for sale in the store - all against a background of tuning, playing and little bits of songs that came from the lesson rooms. At the time, I wanted to learn to play everything the Beatles ever did - which was a good thing because, in their career, the Beatles covered nearly every style of music you can think of.

At around that time, my mom and dad gave me the sheet music to the Erroll Garner song Misty and said to me, "If you really want to be a musician, learn to play this one!" Misty was written in the key of E-flat and was full of lush sounding jazz chords with names like "E-flat-major-seventh" and "A-flat-seventh-flat-nine," about which I had no idea. So the next time we went to visit Uncle Roy, I brought the sheet music to Misty and my guitar in hopes that he could show me how to play it. Of course, Uncle Roy knew how to play Misty, which is one of the 'standards,' that is to say, a well-written song that has been played and recorded by a great many artists over a long period of time.

Uncle Roy showed me how to make all those complex chords in the song that I eventually learned to play, and that opened up my ears and the guitar neck to more things than I can name. Uncle Roy has always taken the time to show me something whenever I asked him. "How did you do that?" - and those times were many.

Another valuable lesson I learned from Uncle Roy is that a good player is easy to play with - and always makes the other guy sound good. So, I still bring my guitar whenever I visit Uncle Roy. He makes me sound better than I am.

* * *
Roy and Uncle Roy have provided musical entertainment, sing-alongs, dance tempo, classic solos and listening pleasure for the entire family at the annual Thatcher Family Reunions every August since 1983 - that's 29 reunions!
***
And the beat goes on... Thanks for the memories... I could have danced all night...
Whether e-mail or snail-mail, send me your "Uncle Roy" story.
I'd like to read it - We all want to read it!

THREE LITTLE WORDS

Three little words: Hello my friend. You're looking good.

Remember the olden days when people spoke and wrote in full sentences? If I can remember and you cannot, either I am much older than you are or the world is spinning much faster these days. Here's my view:

I was watching Good Morning America on television this morning where they have invited the audience to express themselves in just three words... And they did... from 'I love you' to 'Go to Hell.' This is fun! (that's my 3 word comment on three word comments... for the moment... as it were... ).

Everyone recognizes that time is valuable. Yet, I wonder what is being gained or lost by the new conservation of words. How is the time gained being used? What are people doing with all those left-over words? Time is precious. Words are valuable. Time is money. Words are treasures. It is best to value time and words carefully.

It was almost a year ago when I spoke before a group of adults, encouraging them to write their thoughts and life stories for posterity. I insisted their life's course and their own interpretation of those times were valuable to their children and to subsequent generations. Because writing an autobiography is an overwhelming idea to most people, I encouraged them to write brief stories on simple subjects - favorite color, toy, sport, teacher, place, person, event... even as 6-word stories. They might have been even more receptive to 3-word stories. I was there. Blue is beautiful. Dolls could talk. War was hell.

It was just a few years ago when writing a story in six words was at its popular peak. It is rumored to have begun when attention was focused on Ernest Hemingway's, "For sale, Baby shoes, Never worn." Six-word stories became writing assignments; they showed up in newspapers and magazines. At least one book of 6-word stories was published. Six words seemed to be as brief as a story could get - until now. Here we go. Write it down. Get it done.

Journalists conserve words. They have presented information briefly and adequately since the invention of the printing press: who, what where, when, why - Just the facts, ma'am. Authors use lots of words. So, where do all the extra words go? To authors! People like Shakespeare or Chaucer immersed themselves in effusive wordiness. Writers like Tolstoy or J. K. Rowling lavishly expend words in lengthy books like War and Peace or the Harry Potter series. Books require words. Words require thought. Thought requires words. We've come full circle.

How much time, awareness, money, influence or brainpower would we gain or lose if all stories were in a 3-word format? Words are powerful. Read a book. Tell a story. Write a letter. Text a friend. Live your dream. Share your experience. Go with God. I love you.

Your thoughts are...? Let me know. That's all folks.

A FLAMING HOT MOVIE

Friends were going to the movie theater on Saturday and asked me to join them. I heard myself say "yes." This made my third trip to the movie theater - in a year!

Off I went - feeling safe and confident. I had seen a television preview of this movie. My sister and several friends had read the book. So, feeling brave in spite of foggy vision and unsteady gait, off to the movies I went.

Over the past five decades, going to the movies has NOT been my pleasure. You see, there was a fire all those many years ago. I was young, brave and invulnerable when I was challenged by fire in a movie theater. Everyone, including my brother and I did get out alive though reeking of smoke and a bit singed; certainly, one more thing to be grateful for in my lifetime.

I think we smelled something burning. When we turned around we saw the flames. My brother leaped toward the Exit door and hit it with force. It wouldn't open. To escape, we had to go through the entranceway where flaming embers were falling from the projection room where the fire roared. In the minute lost trying to escape through the exit, we realized the entrance was the only way out. By now everything below the projection room was aflame. It appeared almost like a circus ring of fire that performers and animals jump through - as entertainment.

We became the circus performers. Pulling my shirt over my head and nose, I leaped with giant steps through the ring of fire. Once through, my brother grabbed my wrist and pulled me away from the building.

From that day forward I take note of the location of exit doors wherever I go: work, stores, pulic buildings, malls, and of course meeting rooms or theaters. To this day I am constantly alert to fire dangers, overly crowded rooms, elevators, flimsy structures, doors opening in instead of out as well as the location of exit doors.

A few years after the fire incident, now married with children, I realized maternally the danger and oconsequences of fire. I had four preschool children and just two hands, so we began to practice fire escape exercises. My children thought it was just more rules like 'don't step into the street,' 'no running with scissors,' or 'strange dogs bite."

Most buildings, businesses and meeting rooms follow fire ordinances but I still see violations. I can choose to stay or leave. That is probably why I felt comfortable attending a movie - for the third time in one year. I had checked out this multi-theater complex twice before. I actually went to see one of the movies alone - making sure it would pass my safety inspection. It did. The movie was Julie-Julia. Then I saw The King's Speech and, recently with my lady friends, The Help. I have a comforting confidence in seeing movies at this theater and won't hesitate to say 'yes' to another opportunity.

One doesn't forget being trapped by fire. I have found a way to deal with my concern, one that not only satisfies my expectation of safety, but allows me freedom to choose to say yes or no.

Have you enjoyed a good movie lately?
If not... What's your excuse for not going to the theater?
Tell me. I'd like to know.

DAWN'S EARLY LIGHT

As the sun peeks up over the horizon each morning, I give thanks for the day and wish the best of life to everything and everyone with whom I will share this day. The world continues on its predictable patterns and so do I. In spite of dramatic weather forecasts of heat, drought and Hurricane Irene for other parts of the country, Ozark Americans are waking to sunshine, blue skies and comfortably warm temperatures - and I am grateful!

This is the last Friday of August. The sun began to light my world two hours ago. Morning rays are low over the horizon - slanting through the still-green trees and resting on my front porch. The newly padded wicker chairs are like theater seats where I am the audience waiting for the performers to arrive. And here they come now....

Four beautiful fawn-colored deer step daintily out from the protection of old oak trees - two mamas and two babies. One youngster is a bit larger than the littlest, cream-colored fawn. The bigger reddish-brown mama appears to be the matriarch. They are heart-warming to see as they stand, like fragile statues, in the sun's rays.

Ignoring my presence, they lower their heads to munch the dewy grasses. Their movements are slow and graceful. Only the little ones bobble from foot to foot, bouncing heads up or twisting about as they graze. All move together as if in unison, within a comfortable distance from one another. Then, what's this? All four snap their heads erect and freeze in place. They become statues as though posed for some photographer or sculptor. They hold their positions a full minute before the big mama turns to survey the area before lowering her head to munch grass once again. All return to their breakfast, still facing the area that concerned them moments earlier, their sweet little faces coming up occasionally to survey their surroundings.

Both mamas again came to attention. They stare toward a path worn into the woods, then, as all stand motionless, the big mama begins to lift a hoof high, like a prancing horse, before stomping it to the ground. Step - stomp - pause. Step - stomp - pause. Every movement is beautiful. Her pose is regal with her head held high, one hoof raised and poised, then stomping with a stance of power and emphasis. How I wish my camera was within reach!

Certainly Mama saw something I could not see. She appeared to be warning off some intruder. If it were a more dangerous threat, she would have given an alert and all four would have disappeared into the woods in one graceful leap - as they often do. I presume this danger is not big enough to frighten her little family away, but of concern enough to display her strength of presence.

Sure enough, there was a flash of movement on the path. Mama deer took one more stomp in that direction when Carol's cat, Galaxy Star Chaser, came sprinting off the path, across the lawn and scrambling onto the porch at full speed - with Mama deer pursuing close behind. The matriarch stopped in the middle of the lawn to watched as I opened the door for Galaxy, that big, bad scaredy cat, to run inside. After a moment, the deer family went back to leisurely grazing.

I'm so grateful to have been here to greet this sunny morning, to let the cat out, make a pot of coffee and to sit on the porch while I observed nature's show. But, I must learn to keep my camera within reach. A mental image of this morning may stay with me for awhile but a photograph of dawn and deer would be so much nicer to keep - and to share with you!

I hope you have special memories preserved in photographs.
Are there memories you wish you had captured on film?
Tell me. I'd like to know.