Tag Archives: family

What Was Your Handle?

I’m not talking about a doorknob. I’m talking about the name you had when talking on a CB radio. Back in the 70s when I was a kid, most everyone had a CB Radio including my own parents. It was what they called a cultural phenomenon. I guess cell phones are a cultural phenomenon today. The greatest part was that once you paid for the radio, that was it, there were no monthly costs and you didn’t have to worry about running out of a signal. 

I used to beg my daddy to let me talk on their radio. You could just hear all the truckers and other listeners rolling their eyes and then probably changing channels. There were all kinds of terms, kind of like our acronyms today, only cooler. You could say something like “What’s your 20? There’s a smoky at the chicken coop, so you better not lay your hammer down.” In other words, “what’s your location? There’s a police officer at the weigh station so don’t go fast.” Isn’t that the coolest? So much better than SMH, IDK or IYKYK. Mostly, I would just say, Breaker, Breaker, One Nine, which is a request to break into a channel or 10-4 good buddy (yes, friend ) and then I would giggle. My handle was Kitten, a name my Aunt Sue gave me. 

Being a southerner in the 70s meant you probably watched Smokey and the Bandit. There was a lot of talking on the CB radio in that movie. For example, Cledus “The Snowman” Snow, (a truck driver) said, “You got the Snowman, I’m east bound and down,” which means this is Cledus Snowman and I’m driving fast with the accelerator pedal pressed all the way to the floor.” How could you not like that movie? The smokey (policeman) was Buford T. Justice and the bandit (law breaker) was Burt Reynolds. I don’t remember much about the movie except that the Smokey chased the bandit and Carrie, the hitchhiker (Sally Field) from Texas to Georgia in a Trans-Am and something about beer. Everyone cheered for the bandit and the Smokey was a buffoon. 

Songs (about CB Radios) were very popular as well. Of course, East Bound and Down, by Jerry Reed, from the movie Smokey and the Bandit was great. 

‘East bound and down, loaded up and truckin’
We gonna do what they say can’t be done
We’ve got a long way to go and a short time to get there
I’m east bound, just watch ol’ Bandit run’

 

Remember Convoy by C.W. McCall? It had CB Jargon, talking AND singing. It was gold! 

Yeah breaker one nine this here’s the Rubber Duck
Uh, you got a copy on me Pig Pen C’mon
Uh yeah Ten-Four Pig Pen fer sure fer sure.
By golly it’s clean clear to Flag Town, C’mon
Yeah its a big Ten -Four there Pig Pen
Yeah we definitely got the front door, good buddy
Mercy Sakes Alive looks like we’ve got us a convoy

And then the chorus…

Cause we got a little ol’ convoy
Rockin’ through the night
Yeah, we got a little ol’ convoy
Ain’t she a beautiful sight?
Come on and join our convoy
Ain’t nothin’ gonna get in our way
We gonna roll this truckin’ convoy
‘Cross the USAAAAAAA
Convoy!

I bet you’re singing it in your head. Ha Ha! I remember convoys back in the 70s on the interstate. I never knew why the trucks were all bunched up but there was usually a good reason.

Of course, we all cried to Red Sovine’s, “Teddy Bear” song, a country classic about a disabled young boy who spends his days talking to truck drivers on his late father’s CB radio, striking up a special bond with a trucker known as “Red.” Teddy Bear tells Red how hard it is for his mom since his dad died. Red asked Teddy Bear for his address and asked his trucker friends for help.

We took up a collection for him before his mama got home

And each driver said goodbye and then they were all gone.

He shook my hand with a mile-long grin

And said, “So long, trucker, I’ll catch you again!”

I hit that interstate with tears in my eyes

And I turned on the radio and I got another surprise.

“Breaker, one-nine,” came a voice on the air,

“Just one word of thanks from Mama Teddy Bear.

We wish each and every one a special prayer for you

‘Cause you just made my little boy’s dream come true.

I’ll sign off now before I start to cry.

May God ride with you.  Ten-four, and goodbye.

We were all crying because back then you didn’t worry about pedophiles and giving out your address. 

Phantom 309 was also a Red Sovine song. It was about a ghost driving an 18-wheeler. A hitchhiker gets picked up by Joe, who drives a truck called Phantom 309. Joe drops the hitchhiker off safely at a roadside diner and even gives him a dime for coffee. It’s an old song. Anyway, the waitress tells him that Joe died 10 years earlier at the exact location that Joe picked him up. I know it’s just a song, but I have goosebumps. 

I guess I’m just a bit nostalgic today, remembering simpler times and wishing coffee still cost a dime. Let me know what your handle was and if you enjoyed talking on the CB radio.

Would You Go Back if You Could?

I’m in the process of filling out a memory and keepsake journal for my family. I’ve been working on it for a while because there are lots of questions and my hand gets tired. There was a particular question, What I miss most about being a child. I was stumped. I thought about the obvious answer like no responsibility, but really, did I miss being a child? And then I thought, would I go back and relive my childhood? There are definitely things I would do differently, if I could. But God gives us this one chance at life. That’s it. I’m 61 now. I’ve had a wonderful and rewarding life but face it, it’s on the downhill slide from here on out.

But If I could have a do-over knowing what I know now I hope that I would do better. I would be kinder and braver and make better choices. I would appreciate the time I spent with my family and friends more, especially the ones that have left this world. I would have tried harder, loved more.  Yeah, right.

Does anyone actually live their life to the fullest or is that just something you say. It sounds good. In reality, I would probably make all of the same decisions (and mistakes) all over again. I’d steal those balloons again, just like I did when I was 5 years old and blame it on some kids who dared me to do it. I’d still lie and say I was sick with a belly ache or wrap a thermometer up in a heated pad so my temperature would be 180 degrees just so I wouldn’t have to go to school. I’d lie through my teeth because that’s what most kids do.

I could never be perfect. If I was, I certainly wouldn’t need Jesus. He would have come for all you other poor lost souls.

Now, this day, is the time to do better. I know Jesus now and have the Holy Spirit trying His best to get me through each day. I feel convicted, for example, when I stick out my tongue at someone or mock them. This may or may not be my husband, whom I love more than words can convey.

So, I would not go back. Absolutely not. I am who I am. I did what I did, and I know what I know. I am who I am today because of my mistakes, my triumphs, and because of all of the choices I made. I am at peace, but I will also always strive to be better, do better and love more.

I will be posting a short story in the near future. Click and subscribe to my page so you won’t miss it!

Writing my first novel. Haha!

My awkward self in the 4th grade.

I think this may be when I was beginning to have a little more confidence. I looked pretty sassy in that pose.

6th grade…riding my brother’s skateboard

That Time When I Was a Baseball Mom

This time of year brings back fond memories of being a baseball mom like being frozen to the bleachers or sliding off them in a sweaty, melted heap. I also enjoyed soccer and track, but baseball was my favorite.

I played baseball when I was in 6th grade, so I knew a little more about it. I’m not sure why, but I was the pitcher, and I wasn’t very good. But I looked really cute with my red Converse tennis shoes.

Adam, my oldest, liked playing baseball, but it was sometimes hard to tell with him. One time the coach wrote ‘little man’ in big fat sharpie letters across the top of his glove, causing him much grief. He was not amused and didn’t want to be called ‘little man.’ His papaw took him to Florida one summer, along with his cousin Danielle. Adam said that country hit, ‘Little Man,’ must have played on the radio a million times in that 10-hour trip, where they were only allowed to stop for gas and gas station food. I should have warned him.

There was also that time when he received his new uniform and for some reason his pants were shorter than everyone else’s. As soon as I parked the car, he ran to the dugout and would not come out. He didn’t want anyone to see him. He was absolutely mortified. He was so cute though and I told him so, but of course, that wasn’t helpful.

My youngest, Sam, was more into soccer but he did play minor league one year. The first time he was ever up to bat, the bases were loaded. He smacked that ball and started running as fast as he could, passing all his teammates to make the homerun. He was on fire! His coach told him to go back to 2nd base, that he couldn’t pass the other runners. He was so disappointed but eventually made it to home plate.

One day, at Holston View, when Adam was playing, Sam ran up to me holding a baseball, a smile on his sweet little face. I said, “Take it to the concession stand and they’ll give you a free drink!” He marched off and then came back with hangdog eyes. I said, “What’s wrong, sweetie?” He said, “They said I could only have a fountain drink.” It then dawned on me that he thought that meant he could only have water out of the fountain. Bless his heart.

Sam was a hugger and not embarrassed to display his affection for his mama, especially when he did well at sports. Adam was more subdued, saving his hugs for home. I loved being a mama to my boys. They were my world, and I was theirs. Kenny worked hard and was either working nights or traveling. I was fortunate enough to work at jobs while they were at school. I was their biggest cheerleader, hollering whenever they caught a ball or made it to home plate.

Adam was more serious. One time, playing shortstop, he caught a ball from the pitch and also got a runner out at 2nd base. We were all stunned but he just kept on like nothing had ever happened. Sam was more apt to pick a dandelion or hug his teammates for doing well. He could hit and run those bases like nobody’s business. He would then make a beeline for me to give me a hug which made me want to cry from happiness.

I was that mom with a huge video camera. It wasn’t a handheld camera either. It sat on my shoulder and weighed as much as me, or at least it felt like it. I carried Sam’s tuba back then too, so the camera was a piece of cake.

As long as they wanted to play sports, I was willing to do whatever it took but I never pushed them. They never played baseball after leaving Holston View, preferring soccer and track. I miss those days, but I cherish every memory. I don’t miss Sam’s fascination with the port-o-potties though. Hand sanitizer would have been very helpful back then.