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What in the heck is a twin cousin? Well, you see, it’s like this. My mom’s twin sister had a boy about my age and over time (growing up) we became cousins who were close, got along, and enjoyed playing together. So, you may wonder, what made me think of my “twin” cousin today. Well, it was the Ada News. There was an article in it honoring some old Ada families. The Katz, Billy Floyd, the Norris and Criswell family. Seeing Tom Criswell’s name (and his picture) made me think of Walker D. Ray (Corky Ray), my twin cousin. It’s okay for you to wonder why.
Read moreAnything but Hollywood Squares If you remember the Original Hollywood Squares and its comics, this may bring a tear to your eyes. These great questions and answers are from the days when “Hollywood Squares” game show responses were spontaneous and clever, not scripted and (often) dull, as they are now. Peter Marshall was the host asking the question of course.
Read moreIt’s not Friday the 13th It’s been awhile since we had a Friday the 13th but there was enough bad luck going around, so I d but the bewitching atmosphere of that special occasion lingers on. Here’s a list of a few who didn’t escape the curse.
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My wife’s grandfather Lyle Harlow was a prisoner of war in World War II and survived the Bataan Death March. He had an attitude about the Japanese soldiers and people. My father-n-law also fought in WW II and was hurt in the Battle of the Bulge. He had negative comments to make about the Japanese. When I bought a Toyota Celica back in 1978 my fathern- law was not impressed since he had worked many years for General Motors and always drove a Chevrolet. However, never in either of the two men’s wildest imagination did they ever express any desire or interest in burning my Toyota or anyone else’s Toyota.
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I remember one nice day in Oklahoma 75 years ago when I volunteering to drive my grandfather, Will W. Armstrong, down to Wister for a visit with his daughter. I was the only one handy that day and besides, being a teenager with a new driver’s license, I looked forward to the trip. I asked my grandpa a lot of questions that day. We were pretty close buddies anyway and many items he mentioned that day I still remember. Born in 1872 he knew a lot about early Oklahoma history. In fact, he lived a lot of it. Driving through Gowan on US270 and down Gowan Mountain into the vast Gowen Prairie, I asked him if he remembered how this part of the state looked in his “day.”
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“Good friends are like quilts – they age with you, yet never lose their warmth.”
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While watching our teen-aged son play four years of high school basketball games years ago, we both noticed an absolute truth; Our son could not seem to grasp that he wasn’t able to block every shot that was put up by the opposing team. He obviously believed that it was his God-given job to stop any player headed to the goal. Of course, you know what happened. He got his five allowable fouls in about, um, the first fifteen minutes of play. Then according to basketball rules, the referees would be obliged to ask him to leave the floor and spend the remainder of the game as the coach’s favorite ‘rider of the pine.’ Over and over again.
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