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'Tis Sunday morning
With nothing to do
Stuck at home
It makes me blue.
.And with that touch of fine poetry, I shall continue.
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As explained earlier, I am cleaning out the garage. I have moved enough into town to almost, not quite, fill a 10 x 15 storage space. Now the question we should all ask: Do I have enough valuables in the space to warrant spending that much money on a storage space for stuff? Sure, there are photos and gadgets and trash all around. My books fill many a space. I have 18 (smaller) boxes filled with old National Geographic Magazines. I quit subscribing a few years back when it became obvious that N.G. was trying to move social issues forward. I'm frankly a bit tired of people telling me that letting a 5 year old child choose his (I must say "or her" for political correctness "his/her") own sexual identity is required of all wonder parents. Yet. n.g. does that.
But, that is off my subject. Storage of items is somewhat necessary when one cannot find the ability to secure a trash can.
My thought is, we need to move to be closer to at least one of our permanent children. Since we have an aversion to the cold weather and sand storms of the Panhandle, that only leaves the Round Rock area. They have good hospitals down there, and, of course, crazy liberal politicians dreaming up new forms of torture for our own good. As an example: Austin doesn't allow stores to give out grocery sacks - plastic grocery sacks - to customers. You must bring your own. So stupid; but, we are saving the planet. Surely, people will bolt against this type of nonsense in the future. Surely.
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The shots for the disease are on the way. Naturally, they won't be distributed until after Christmas. At least the plan is to get them distributed. I wait.
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Today is Friday the 13th except in December it comes on Sunday. Rejoice.
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This next bit is a bit maudlin - me thinks that is proper use of the word.
I've ranted before about our local newspaper going down to 2 issues a week. They try to say that it makes it a better paper. I believe they are headed for closing down - you should work to make things bigger and better. You should budget for growth. They are not. The are budgeting for their demise.
Now, for the paper to list all of the weekly obits, sometimes it mus use up to 2 pages an issue for the obits. My copy of Saturday's paper is somewhere up the hill in the trash can or I would type you more info. There were two obits that caught my eye. One was for a preacher man. Most obits are no longer than one column - at the most - this one was three full columns of praise. His name is not important - here - I'm sure it is important to his people (see below). Three full columns. That's a lot. A Baptist preacher man can have a very full obit.
Another was typical length. This guy was apparently your regular Joe. Raised in Port Arthur, the obit describes his activities (pool, yo-yo, motorcycles, fishing...) and his eating & drinking habits. I would have a tendency to make fun of these descriptions; but, his people might set a alligator in my backyard. That wouldn't be fun.
Obits are not written by the deceased. They are written by his friends or family. I'm sure some people would be embarrassed by their own obit's descriptions. Others might swell with pride. The preacher went by two initials: BF. Not once did they think to give his real full name. BF was BF, Jr. His father was BF, Sr. The article included a paragraph about the father's career. I'd never seen that done. That's different. But were their names BF or Benjamin Franklin or Burt Fred? Nobody will ever know. A hundred years from now as someone is researching ancestry, that person will be slightly held back from knowing.
We have two funeral parlors in town that do most of the business. One is Griffin-Roughton and the other is Corley. You can look up the obits if you want more info. The red neck one is printed below. It is really worth the trouble to read.
I found the preacher: He had a full preaching life. Good for him; his children are proud.
REV. B. F. RISINGER, JR.
Now I have found the other one. Somebody might google his name and think that I am making fun. Well, I am to a certain degree. But, I'm not trying to. His family wrote the obit. I'm sure he was a nice guy...a terrific friend. I plan to change his name in the obit that I am printing below. I hope I don't miss something. Enjoy.
The question (of course): should we all write our own obits before it is too late? It is something to ponder.
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James' Obituary
James Coach passed away December 8, 2020, at the age of 74. (Keep in mind that I am changing some of the names to protect the innocent - me - if you must know the names go to Corley's funeral home.)
James was born February 2, 1946 in Youngstown, Ohio to Choreen and John Coach, Sr. Growing up as the oldest with his brothers Frank and Edward and his sister Wanda in Port Arthur, James was yo-yo champion. He and his brother Frank would make money while doing yo-yo and playing pool. He even won his sister a bicycle by yo-yo and pool. Taking his role of big brother very seriously, he made sure his younger siblings always had Easter baskets and Christmas presents. He continued that role into his teenage years when he took the time to teach his little sister Wanda how to dance – including how to do the Mashed Potatoes. He was a great dancer and a good-looking young man. With his gift of gab, he always had many friends. James always wore a starched white shirt, which his sister always ironed for him. He loved spending time with his cousins Larry, Darrel, and Sandra, and cutting up and causing mischief for all, including his brother Frank. They were always getting beer in Louisiana and then driving back to Texas in the old Ford. He loved to fish and go crabbing as well. James would ride his bicycle to Pleasure Pier in Port Arthur to catch crabs and put in a bushel basket and ride home. James went to Woodrow Wilson and Thomas Edison High Schools in Port Arthur, Texas.
James was the real deal. His first two marriages, from high school and right after, resulted in two beautiful daughters each: Amara and Sarie from the first, and Fawn Sarie and Shana Sarie from the second. His current wife is Melba. James deeply loved his family and friends. He loved Cajun food and spending time with his cousin Sandra and Rusty during Mardi Gras. He enjoyed fishing with Darrell and Larry and shooting guns with his niece Gathy. He loved chocolate pie from his cousin Shawie (who he called Meaness) and drinking beer on the porch and having long talks with his daughter and his son-in-law Joel. He enjoyed fixing cars with his friend Randy, and he loved riding motorcycles and being in his motorcycle club. James helped everyone.
James supported his family working as a maintenance mechanic and foreman at an envelope factory. When he wasn’t hard at work, he was hard at play. When he was younger, James always took the family camping at Sam Rayburn, and enjoyed fishing more than just about anything. He would fish in the morning and water ski in the afternoon. He also spent vacations in Galveston with Barry and Sarah. He also enjoyed playing pool, yo-yo, crabbing, and playing Cajun music with his cousins. James was pretty Cajun and a proud Coon Ass, so sitting on the porch and enjoying a Budweiser with family and friends was just about perfect – even better if he could have some gumbo, red beans and rice, or boudin.
I'll cut here - no need in listing the entire family or funeral arrangements. Doesn't this guy James sound like a fun guy? I'd better that half of east Texas was his friend.
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time to pause until next time.
see ya, (what alligator?)
m
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