Ain't

English professors will tell you that ain't ain't a word. Sure gets spoken a lot, but that's also the way certain "down east" North Carolina people pronounce aunt. Bertha Mae Godley Jones was my "half" sister's aunt and was just as much my aunt as my sister Martha is my sister. There is a lot more to family than DNA and some relationships can be more enduring than those of a biological nature. Duh.
As a child, we visited Chocowinity to see the Godleys, Uncle Floyd, a sort of Junior Samples character, Granny Godley, Vivian, Bertha Mae, Uncle Frank and my cousin Liz, who was not my cousin but I had a crush on her and last time I saw her at Mom's funeral she was mm mm good looking still.
On these visits we'd go across the river to nearby Washington, NC. "Original" Washington, as they prefer to call it but "Little" Washington, when I was a child, the home of sand spurs and a lack of comfort. There, we would visit my dad's mom and brother, Haywood. Dad's mom was a Jones, before marrying Benjamin H Roebuck Senior and today I noticed that Bertha Mae had married a Jones.
I enjoyed especially Chocowinity and the farm the Godleys lived in with a huge pecan tree and early mornings gathering eggs for breakfast. Quite different from suburban life in Falls Church, seven miles from Washington, DC.

When life is difficult, as it increasingly is, memories like this help us maintain a degree of sanity and as Mac Davis put it in his song, "sweeten through the ages, just like wine."

Personal Exceptionalism vs. Do Unto Others

Drive down the road. Visit the library. Share something with someone. Look in the mirror. Chances are, you've seen someone who is inconsiderate.
Got a prescription, started to pull out onto the back street to come here to the library not expecting to see any traffic. Looked right, looked left, thought about pulling out, looked right again, and out of "nowhere" came a UPS truck hauling buggy, its driver thinking only of making it to his next stop with no thought that people would be pulling out of the pharmacy. It's especially obnoxious on Fridays. Dad pointed out to me when he was one of the last of the true Civil Servants that "people bug out on Fridays" to get a head start on the weekend. I'd almost guarantee you, that there are more auto accidents. I bet bikers are in far greater danger from the work force escapees.
When you go to the refrigerator, what do you do? "Well, I'll be right back tomorrow, so I'll set this right up front, top shelf and it'll be okay to shove this other stuff to the back. After all, my wife, husband, room mate won't be back soon. Their stuff stays in here and spoils. Matter of fact, why don't I just shove ALL their crap to the back, better yet, put it on the bottom shelf in the back. So WHAT if Maude has to get a pillow and get on her knees to look for her stuff. I'm important!"
Well, maybe we don't say that or even think it, but it's the message we're sending and it's the impression we leave.
I asked a certain person why certain OTHER people of his category (the category doesn't matter) why they often park in the loading zones at stores and why they seem to go out of their way to walk on the left side of an aisle or sidewalk knowing full well, that the rest of society walks to the right, just as we drive our cars. His reply was that those "rules" were for people of MY category, written by them and for them and didn't apply to HIS category. He had matured enough that he doesn't subscribe to that way of thinking, but he was speaking of others.
Someone said that the USA is the only place where there are handicapped parking spaces, so people don't have to walk too far to go walk on a treadmill. I doubt that's true. The world is FULL of inconsiderate, selfish, thoughtless  people.

Here's a word...courtesy. The world needs a lot more of it!

Saipan: 17 June 1944

There's a page about my dad that reads in part, in his words:

I was wounded in action 17 June 1944 on the Island of Saipan in the Marianas Islands with 23 Marines (23rd Regiment, Fourth Marine Division). We had landed via amphibious tanks/tractors of of LSTs (Landing Ship Tanks). We received the Presidential Unit Citation and I received a "gunshot wound, left leg" on Saipan--40 percent disability by the Veterans Administration. And ... yes ..I received the Purple Heart.

As the LST's landed on the beach at Saipan, the men were told not to take pot shots, just to take cover. Dad looked over and a man from his little worship group appeared to be praying. Dad put his hand on the Marine's shoulder to comfort him and his head fell back, the whites of his eyes turned red and burst. Blood ran down his face. His fellow GIrene had caught a bullet under his helmet.
I do not recall whether dad went over the side or down the ramp onto the beach but he was in the water receiving heavy fire from machine gun nests from the Japanese. He decided to take cover behind the LST and with all that loud gunfire and bullets whizzing around him, a still, small voice said in almost a whisper, "You'd better move." Dad swam from behind the LST. Just then, the vessel lunged backward and would have turned my pop into hamburger, had he not obeyed the voice.

Three days later, on the island Dad was told to inform the forward positions that chow was on. He proceeded to do so. He went to one group and said, "Chow's on!"
"Go to HELL, Roebuck," came the response.

He went to another, "Chow's one!""Go to HELL, Roebuck!" came the response from the second group. He moved forward and again said,
"Chow's on!" BANG! He saw a flash in front of him and immediately felt led burning its way into the calf of his left leg as he fell to the ground and in my dad's words, "Squeeled like a stuck pig!" He lay there, having told the Lord, "It's You and me from here on out" after God's warning that earlier saved his life. Now, a new conversation, "Well, Lord, I guess this is it..." What seemed like eternity passed and then, in the words of dad, "The most beautiful little corpsman came up and said, 'We're gonna get you out  of here, Marine!' "


Read the whole account, if you wish, at:  http://www.justinmuseum.com/oralbio/roebuckbbio.html

Take the Highway to the End of the Night

In 1967 I was at a point in my life where I knew I had to decide whether I wanted to take my parents' and family's word for what I believe or what often times seemed to be the very opposite of what they said and showed that they believed. In the middle of that profound belly button examining, I came across the Doors...Jim Morrison et al. As I recall, I borrowed my best friend's copy of their first album and began to listen at first to learn "Light My Fire" for the band and discovered the writer of these songs seemed to be where I was...maybe. I listened to "Break on Through" and its words, "You know the day destroys the night...night divides the day..."  Almost Biblical or maybe Biblical but warped. But Jim seemed to be struggling with it all. The dude in other songs definitely had a strange outlook on the world.

In my total naivety, while I fell in love with "Back Door Man" I was clueless as to its more deep sexual reference other than a dude sneakin' in to the back door to see his girl, or someone's daughter. I wished I had such boldness. That's as far as my consideration of the lyric went.

Well I eventually, not long after that, decided not to take either group at their word, but to take God at HIS. Turns out, my parents and family had pretty much been on target, not that anyone is perfect. Today, belief system intact and continuing to strengthen, it's very interesting to observe other rocker's struggles and expressions...John Lennon's famous declarations of noisy UNbelief, Dylan's journey, Barry McGuire's Christian faith and his telling me how he shared it with Bob Dylan, there was Noel Stookey, Paul of Peter, Paul and Mary and Dion and Alice Cooper's faith and God delivering him from almost killing himself with alcohol.

The faith community (church...SOME evangelicals) are very jealous and when BJ Thomas professed faith in the Lord, they'd criticize him when he'd sing the old hits like "Raindrops..." saying, "Sing for the LORD, BJ!" They wouldn't leave the guy alone. Like JD Sumner said, "Ernie Ford sang 'Sixteen Tons' and people thought that was great and they'd marvel at his gospel songs, but let the Stamps back up Elvis and people say 'that that rock'n'roll stuff. I can tell you this, I bet more people came to faith in Christ hearin' Elvis sing 'How Great Thou Art' than all us gospel singers COMBINED."

MayBE. But I get excited when I hear how people are singing, some that you would never suspect of giving spirituality or holiness a thought.