When I was a little boy, there were only two or three other homes anywhere in sight. One of them was where Ben lived. His house was diagonally located from us, about two stone-throws away, on the other side of an alley that ran between his avenue and ours. Ben was about the age of my older brothers Lewis and Howe, I think somewhere in between them. My brothers and I spent a lot time at Ben’s, one reason being that he had a TV set. We watched stuff like “I Married Joan”, “The Life of Riley”, and “Dragnet”. Ben’s parents were very friendly. Sometimes I took care of their dog when they were away. Ben’s mom helped me get through the first grade on time, and Ben’s dad often kidded me one way or another in a friendly way. Ben, however, sometimes took shameful advantage of our age difference.
For example, one afternoon when I went over to Ben’s, he greeted me by asking me how my tallywacker was. I had no idea what that meant. I was just an ignorant little kid, and I had never heard the word tallywacker before. Ben told me that asking someone about his tallywacker was just a friendly way of greeting him, kind of like asking how things were going for him. Well, that seemed like a good explanation, so with Ben’s encouragement, I practiced asking him how his tallywacker was for the next hour or so, until I had to go on home for supper.
Now, Sunday midday dinner was always a big thing to the Whitmans. If it was summertime, we often would go to Radium Springs for a picnic and swimming. Otherwise, we would likely have a fried chicken dinner or roast beef dinner at home. Just outside and off to one side of our dining room window, there was a big Mimosa tree that we climbed on a lot. It was perfect for climbing, but that’s another story. Sometimes, Ben would come over to see us while we were still eating dinner, and when that happened, he would just sit outside in the tree until we were done and could come out and play. To get to the tree from Ben’s house, you had to walk right by the dining room window. On this particular day that I’m telling you about, maybe a couple of weeks after my visit at Ben’s that I just described, Ben came walking by the dining room window while we were at Sunday dinner. He waved at us and continued on toward the Mimosa tree, and I hollered out the open window to him, “Hey Ben, How’s your tallywacker?” My mom and dad instantly swiveled to focus di-rect!ly on Ben, and he looked like a deer caught in the headlights. You reap what you sow.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
A Splendid Weekend
On Thursday night, June 2nd, 2011, my little sister Marilyn and her man, a fellow named Ted, arrived at Hobby airport for a visit with us. I had not seen Marilyn for almost ten years, and I had never met Ted. I had already checked out all kinds of stuff the previous several days for places to take them while they were here. Unfortunately, there were not going to be any home baseball games or other sporting events or entertainment events of any particular interest, and I was kind of anxious about what we would do or talk about. Marilyn said don’t worry about that kind of stuff, that all they wanted to do was hang around with us for a few days.
Well, we talked kind of late the night they arrived, and they were tired from their trip, so we got started a little bit late on Friday. We ate a Mexican lunch at a nearby Lupe' Tortilla’s restaurant and lazed around the house that afternoon. On Saturday morning, we decided to go see the Water Wall in the Galleria area. It is a romantic location where many couples get engaged and like to get their pictures taken. I realized that although I have lived in Houston for more than a quarter of a century, I had never been to the Water Wall before. It is pretty impressive.
Afterward, Ted was admiring the nice landscaping with all the young live oak trees.
I suggested that since he liked live oak trees, we ought to go to Beck's Prime restaurant on Westheimer and have hamburgers for lunch under The Tree (as I know it). I hold it in awe, because it is over 400 years old. We did just that. The weather was perfect for it, and our burgers were great.
After lunch we drove through Memorial Park, which Ted really admired, especially noting that among all the other stuff -- golf course, baseball fields, volley ball courts, swimming pool, hiking trails, jogging trails, bike trails, soccer fields, tennis courts, picnic areas, arboretum, etc. -- they even had a croquet court. That seemed to really impress him. There were lots of joggers out.
Then we went to the Beer Can House, a very weird place indeed. Some crazy old fart spent a good part of his life creating something so enormously tacky that it has become a favorite tourist attraction.
Upon leaving the Beer Can House, we proceeded to a little park northwest of downtown, where Ted got some really good pictures of the downtown Houston skyline.
Next, we rode the Main Street train from one middle to the other and back. It was way too crowded at the north end of the line near Minute Maid Park and Discovery Green to get on the train there. There was some kind of festival going on. Instead, we got on at the middle of the line and rode south to the end of the line, where we got off and got a good view of the Astrodome, an engineering marvel -- forlorn, ignored, and forgotten though it is these days.
We got back on the train and rode it all the way north to Minute Maid Park and south again to where we had parked. Throughout the whole time we kept wondering why nobody was collecting tickets. When we had first got on, Ted bought four tickets for $1.00 apiece. We observed that we could just as well not have bought them, since nobody ever asked for them, and, besides, how in the world did the City expect to make money on the rail line if nobody ever checked for tickets? Well, Elaine and I had lunch with some old friends of ours a few days after Marilyn and Ted left, and I brought up the question. My friend Barbara explained it this way: "The way they do it is, they randomly check people getting off, and if your ticket time has expired, they fine you $200." I said, "Oh… I see …" I hadn’t even noticed that our tickets were good for a limited period of time.
On Sunday morning, Ted and I went back to Memorial Park to play croquet. There was one little problem. Although there was a gate at the croquet court right near a parking area, it was locked. Now, from east to west, there is an office or clubhouse, several tennis courts, and on the far west end is the croquet court. We had to walk through the clubhouse and out back and then down past all the tennis courts before we could get into the croquet court through a back gate. To me, it seemed like about 9,756 feet, and by the time we got to the court, I was already done in. Oh, by the way, did I mention that the temperature was 100 oF, and I was using a cane? Ted and I played one-half of one game before I collapsed from the heat. I sat down for awhile, but eventually I made it back to the car, with Ted’s help all the way, of course.
We rescued the day by all four of us playing Budweiser Croquet after lunch inside the house. Marilyn won. Budweiser Croquet is where you use two cans of Budweiser beer for a wicket and one can for a stake, and you lay a course through your house or some part of it. I invented the game many years ago. Of course, you don’t have to use Budweiser, but that’s what I used the first time I ever played the game, so I call it Budweiser Croquet. You need large rooms and a carpeted floor to play it. I am fortunate in that I have a huge carpeted living room.
Marilyn and Ted left on Monday, June 6th, and we were sad to see them go. I couldn’t recall many weekends in my life that were nearly as much fun as the one we had just spent with them. Ted is a good person, fun to be around, and I was pleased to see my little sister happy with him. I sure hope it’s not another ten years before I see her again.
Well, we talked kind of late the night they arrived, and they were tired from their trip, so we got started a little bit late on Friday. We ate a Mexican lunch at a nearby Lupe' Tortilla’s restaurant and lazed around the house that afternoon. On Saturday morning, we decided to go see the Water Wall in the Galleria area. It is a romantic location where many couples get engaged and like to get their pictures taken. I realized that although I have lived in Houston for more than a quarter of a century, I had never been to the Water Wall before. It is pretty impressive.
Afterward, Ted was admiring the nice landscaping with all the young live oak trees.
I suggested that since he liked live oak trees, we ought to go to Beck's Prime restaurant on Westheimer and have hamburgers for lunch under The Tree (as I know it). I hold it in awe, because it is over 400 years old. We did just that. The weather was perfect for it, and our burgers were great.
After lunch we drove through Memorial Park, which Ted really admired, especially noting that among all the other stuff -- golf course, baseball fields, volley ball courts, swimming pool, hiking trails, jogging trails, bike trails, soccer fields, tennis courts, picnic areas, arboretum, etc. -- they even had a croquet court. That seemed to really impress him. There were lots of joggers out.
Then we went to the Beer Can House, a very weird place indeed. Some crazy old fart spent a good part of his life creating something so enormously tacky that it has become a favorite tourist attraction.
Upon leaving the Beer Can House, we proceeded to a little park northwest of downtown, where Ted got some really good pictures of the downtown Houston skyline.
Next, we rode the Main Street train from one middle to the other and back. It was way too crowded at the north end of the line near Minute Maid Park and Discovery Green to get on the train there. There was some kind of festival going on. Instead, we got on at the middle of the line and rode south to the end of the line, where we got off and got a good view of the Astrodome, an engineering marvel -- forlorn, ignored, and forgotten though it is these days.
We got back on the train and rode it all the way north to Minute Maid Park and south again to where we had parked. Throughout the whole time we kept wondering why nobody was collecting tickets. When we had first got on, Ted bought four tickets for $1.00 apiece. We observed that we could just as well not have bought them, since nobody ever asked for them, and, besides, how in the world did the City expect to make money on the rail line if nobody ever checked for tickets? Well, Elaine and I had lunch with some old friends of ours a few days after Marilyn and Ted left, and I brought up the question. My friend Barbara explained it this way: "The way they do it is, they randomly check people getting off, and if your ticket time has expired, they fine you $200." I said, "Oh… I see …" I hadn’t even noticed that our tickets were good for a limited period of time.
On Sunday morning, Ted and I went back to Memorial Park to play croquet. There was one little problem. Although there was a gate at the croquet court right near a parking area, it was locked. Now, from east to west, there is an office or clubhouse, several tennis courts, and on the far west end is the croquet court. We had to walk through the clubhouse and out back and then down past all the tennis courts before we could get into the croquet court through a back gate. To me, it seemed like about 9,756 feet, and by the time we got to the court, I was already done in. Oh, by the way, did I mention that the temperature was 100 oF, and I was using a cane? Ted and I played one-half of one game before I collapsed from the heat. I sat down for awhile, but eventually I made it back to the car, with Ted’s help all the way, of course.
We rescued the day by all four of us playing Budweiser Croquet after lunch inside the house. Marilyn won. Budweiser Croquet is where you use two cans of Budweiser beer for a wicket and one can for a stake, and you lay a course through your house or some part of it. I invented the game many years ago. Of course, you don’t have to use Budweiser, but that’s what I used the first time I ever played the game, so I call it Budweiser Croquet. You need large rooms and a carpeted floor to play it. I am fortunate in that I have a huge carpeted living room.
Marilyn and Ted left on Monday, June 6th, and we were sad to see them go. I couldn’t recall many weekends in my life that were nearly as much fun as the one we had just spent with them. Ted is a good person, fun to be around, and I was pleased to see my little sister happy with him. I sure hope it’s not another ten years before I see her again.
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