So , guys and their cars, right?  One night , lying in bed, Doug and I tried to name all the cars he had owned. Couldn’t do it.  Anyway, at  the very beginning, Doug owned a candy apple red, 1958 Corvette. Hard top convertible. Beautiful car.  He worked and saved his money and bought it himself.  Of course, it didn’t last long.  He totaled it one night, racing some other teenaged idiot, coming home from the Senator’s Club. Thank God, they weren’t killed!  By the time I started  dating Doug, the Corvette was a ball of scrap metal and he was on his second or third car by then. His older brother, Jim, had gone into the Air Force and he and Doug had traded cars.  Doug was driving a 1956 green and white Chevrolet 4 door Bel Air. Huge car! Straight shift, steering wheel so big, most tires today are smaller! So  this car (boat) was really good for one thing. Parking! It had a back seat more roomy than a double bed. **

**FYI – if you are reading this and you don’t know, or can’t figure out what “Parking” is, go ask your grandmother and stop reading my blog.  It is rated M!

So on weekends, wherever we went on a date, of course, later we would end up Parking. Here’s the problem. Once you shut this car (boat) down, it would not restart!  (Doug told me years later that it was some minor battery problem, but at the time, he didn’t have the money to repair it.) After Every date, Doug would end up pushing this car out of whatever spot we were in, with me at the steering wheel, ready to pop the clutch to get us started. This was a pain in the summer, but in the winter, it was horrible! One winter’s night, after trying unsuccessfully to get this friggin’ car (boat) started, we decided that we would have to walk to the nearest road to see if we could help or hitch a ride.

It was Freezing outside, so Doug threw the blanket (we had been “Parking”) over my head to keep me warm and we started walking. After quite a while, a car finally pulled over to offer us a ride. As it turned out, we actually knew the guy. His name was Bill.  He opened the passenger side door and yelled, “Climb on in here, Doug! I’ll give you a ride. Oh, and you can bring your Dog, too”.  I took the blanket off my head and he said, “Sorry, Marty!”

That’s okay. years later, I got Bill back! But that’s a whole different blog! Stay tuned.

I’d been going to the same eye doctor for years. Local guy. He doesn’t remember it, but we even rode the school bus together in grade school.  I only go to the eye doctor every couple of years, maybe three. I know when my eyes change or not. Over the years I had developed an astigmatism in each eye.  Anyway, it had been a couple of years so I go in to see Dr. He’s a big talker; big story teller. An hours’ appointment can take Forever. So, he examines my eyes, says, “It’s the strangest thing!”  “What’s wrong?” I asked.  “Well, the astigmatism in your eyes is GONE!” “What do you mean, Gone?  Where did they go?” He says, “I don’t KNOW!” he says, “But they’re Gone!”

Okay, he writes me a new prescription, I take it to LensCrafters in the Mall. I come back an hour later, pick up my new glasses, and start to leave. I walk out into the Mall, and immediately grab hold of the wall! I can’t see anything! I look to other people like I am punch drunk! I make my way Back into LensCrafters and tell them I want my old glasses back!  “Sorry, we asked if you wanted to keep your old lenses, and you said, no.” They said I had to go back to Dr. and get him to rewrite the prescription. I don’t know how I drove home.

The next day, I called Dr.  He said it was going to be the next day before I could see him again. I go back in, what, Day 3, and tell the Dr. about my problem. He examines my eyes again and says, “I can’t Believe it!”

“What is it?” I asked. “They’ve come Back!” “What is back?”, I asked. “The astigmatism! It’s come BACK!” “In 3 days? Where did it come from?” I asked. “I don’t know – but it’s Back!” He wrote me another prescription that I took to LensCrafters. When I told the guy at LensCrafters what the Dr. had said about my astigmatism, he laughed until he had tears in his eyes! He said he was not going to charge me for these new glasses, since we didn’t know where my astigmatism came back from! Needless to say, I haven’t been back to that  eye doctor! Stay tuned

I told you that my sweet husband has always been more than a little naive. (see Dougie part 1).  As we raised our children and built our lives together, we never really sat down and had a discussion about everything we knew about every subject. I mean, we were  both fairly well read and educated, so you assume things, you know?

I had known that Doug didn’t care for gay people. Talk of them made him uneasy, but, we didn’t visit the subject very often; plus he has an openly gay first cousin, so who knows? We are busy people, in our mid-thirties, trying to raise children and make a living.  So one night, we are going out to dinner with friends. Doug and I are in the back seat of the car. For whatever reason, the conversation turned to homosexuals. Doug says, “I’ll tell you one thing. right now. If I was a homosexual, I’d get me a calendar and I’d mark it down when it was supposed to be my turn. I wouldn’t let ’em get me over a barrel when  it wasn’t my turn!” I thought for sure John would wreck the car, he was laughing so hard! To this day, I haven’t been able to fully convince Doug that that is the way “they” like it! Stay tuned.

Friends come from different times and different places in our lives. Some stay with us for a short time; others, stay for the long haul. I met one of my dearest friends when I got my job at Houchens.  She was actually my immediate boss. I have to say at this time that I LOVE my job.  I’ve been there for 6 years and compared to the job I had previous to this – forget it. This job is like heaven! Anyway, the way you are hired into Houchens is knowing someone already there.  I think maybe my job was created for me. At any rate, I don’t think my group was happy that another “old lady” had been hired in. The first day I was introduced to Courtney, she gave me her best “I am a well educated, strong black woman. I am your Boss and you best not forget it.”  I just laughed at her! Basically, she’s young enough to be my daughter and as I told her, “You’ll have to do better than that to scare me! For almost 3 years, I worked at a place where I was usually one of maybe 4 white faces in a sea of probably 100 black faces.”

We pretty quickly got on the same page.  It helped that we have the same birthday month and a similar sense of humor. She is a single mother of twin boys.  When I first met her, her father had passed away the year before and she and the boys were living with her mother.  She, like me, loves to read.  She’s very active in her church and a wonderful role model.  She and I slowly formed a close relationship built on daily contact and mutual respect. Even though she was my boss, we played our roles and kept our friendship to ourselves. If I needed to talk, she would invite me into her office, close the door and let me unload. Some days it was her turn.  Either way, we became very close. She loves Doug and knows  Everything about my family.

As close as we were at work, she didn’t discuss “work” issues with me.  I did not know her daily, weekly, monthly problems at work. So 3 years into my employment, when Courtney announced that she was leaving Houchens, I was devastated!! I couldn’t imagine what would happen to me! Courtney had always had my back! She was the one that would be looking out for me! Yes, I was worried about ME! She was young enough that I knew she would land on her feet. At 60, my working days are numbered.  And aside from that concern, I was losing my FRIEND! When she made her announcement in the conference room, I broke down and sobbed!

The next year was horrible! I drug myself to work everyday, but it was drudgery! My joy in the job, my joy in my daily live was gone. I grieved for Courtney as if she had died.  As time has gone on, of course,  we have both adjusted to the changes in our lives. She got a wonderful job that she loves ; where she makes more money and doesn’t have to drive very far to work. She also gets to spend more time with her boys who are growing like weeds.  As we hit the day of February 4, it’s hard for me to believe I ‘ve been without Courtney for exactly as long as I was with her.  Even though she is just a phone call away, and she continues to be my close friend, I miss her sweet, pretty face  every day. I always will. I love you, my Chocolate Child. God bless you! Stay tuned.

I believe everyone has,  at  the very least, One other side. You have the side you show to the public, and the “Other Side.” Mine is named Marsha. The Police named her, not me. Doug and I dated almost a year before we married. I say “dated”.  As I remember it, we mostly fought. I remember coming home from almost every date Mad about something.  Basically, it was a battle of wills. He usually won.  One night, we went out and had a pretty good time.  As my friend Mac would say, and then the fight started! We had gone to a party and things went south. Doug left the room to get more beer and I decided I had had Enough! I decided I would show him! I would walk home!   (a distance of about a mile)   Of course, I’m mad, half drunk,  and not About to tell him I’m leaving!  The weather was nice, the walk was okay. I figured he would call me in the morning and apologize.  Uh, no! The next thing I know, I’m walking in front of McNeill Elem School and a police car comes screeching into the parking lot, siren going, lights blazing! I have no idea what’s going on, but I duck behind one of the the bushes in the yard. Two police officers jump out of their squad car and shine their flashlights on the bushes I’m hiding behind! One of them starts yelling, “Marsha? Marsha, come out from behind the bush. Marsha, it will be okay. Come out and face us!” Okay, wrong name, but they basically had me! I came out from behind the bush where I had been hiding, to see two policemen and Doug, standing beside one of the police cars. The police  drove me home, with Doug following.  Once home, Doug said, “I’m sorry! I was so worried about you! I didn’t know where you went, or how to find you!” (Remember; this is 1968 – there is no cell phone!) We eventually made up, and the rest is history.  But, to this day – anytime I am feeling vulnerable, or lost, or not able to face what has to be  faced, Doug says to be me, “Don’t be a Marsha.  Hang in there. It’ll be okay. Face your fears. I’m with you.” God, I LOVE this Man! Stay tuned.

Our son, Brian was born when I was 31 and Doug was 33. When he was born in March, his sisters were 9 and 12. He was not an accident – by any means! We tried for two years to have him.  Anyway, when Brian was born,  Doug was several years into diving. He and “Steve”  and several others regularly went on dive trips to different places. That wasn’t a problem for me. I didn’t dive and didn’t care that he went.  However, coming home with a new baby, I really expected that Doug would be there to share in the joy (and work) that a little one brings. Especially, since this was his “Son”.  Two weeks after we brought Brian home, Doug announced that he would be leaving on his next dive trip in a few days. I was Shocked! Seriously? He would leave me, home, alone, with 3 children for a week? While he went on a vacation to the Carribean with diving and drinking, and sun screen, and adults? But, he said, the trip was already paid for. He Couldn’t cancel it! Don’t worry, he said. “We’ll be in port every night. I’ll call you.”  He promised that if anything went wrong at home, he would get a seaplane out immediately, and fly home. Since I had friends and family in town, I told him he could go, but he had to call me, every night. He promised, we kissed, and off he went. That first day without him was rough, but I was comforted that I would get to talk to him that night.  Friday night, I cooked supper, put the kids to bed, sat by the phone…that never rang! Saturday night, I cooked supper, put the kids to bed….nothing! Sunday night, ….. Monday night,….. Tuesday night,….Wednesday night,…..Thursday night…the phone RANG!!!  The operator said, “I have a collect call from Doug. Will you accept charges?” In my loudest voice, I screamed, “Hell, NO!” And slammed the phone down. When he finally came home on Saturday, he explained (from the doghouse), that they Had been in a different port each night, and he Had tried to call me every night. But in our particular comedy of errors, each phone had problems. Either it was broken, or the wait was long, etc.  At the time, I was dubious, but I have since travelled to some of these island locations and can verify that a lot of the phones and other facilities simply do not work.  At any rate, from that trip on, when ever either one of us said, “I’ll call you”, it made us smile. Stay tuned.

We have really good friends that we have known Forever! To protect their privacy, I’ll call them “Steve and Sandy”. Doug and Steve grew up in the same neighborhood. I’ve known Sandy since high school. Sandy and I have the same “weird-o” sense of humor. We are both readers and love to people watch. The four of us have been great friends for a long time. We had daughters about the same ages, so we spent a lot of weekends and vacations together! Many, many memories! I’ll share some of the highlights. One day, we thought it would be fun to go to the Grand Old Opry. This was when it was held at Opryland, not the Rhyman Auditorium. I was born in Nashville and have a nodding acquaintance with Country music and the “stars”. Not so, the other 3 people I was with. We found our seats, they lowered the lights and 15 minutes into the show, Doug and Steve both  sound asleep and snoring! Sandy, bless her heart, tried to stay with the program, but was really struggling with who the performers were. As each person came out on the stage, she would ask me, “Who’s that? ” Even as I named the performer, I could tell, she didn’t have a clue! Finally, it dawned on me; a way to help her realize who was on stage – Commercials!  As Jimmy Dean came on, I told her,  sausage.  When we woke the guys up at the end of the show and left,  she said she enjoyed the show, but never asked to go again! Stay tuned.

I really don’t like snow! I am so grateful I wasn’t born in Minnesota! Over the years, I tried to enjoy snow related activities. We have been skiing a few times. Gatlinburg and Paoli. I never got off the bunny trail.  We’ve been sledding down Hospital Hill with the kids.  Helped the kids build snowmen. The problem is – it’s COLD! I know; I put on layers, etc. Doesn’t matter! There’s wind and snow and sometimes ice. Not enjoyable to me! I see advertisements for The Opryland Hotel’s  Ice Palace.  Really? People are going to pay money for this? Why not just stand outside in the parking lot – for FREE! I saw on t.v. a bar inside an igloo! I want my cocktails inside a building that has central heating in front of a roaring fire! The only ice I want to be involved with is inside my Glass!  I will venture outside to go to and from my hot tub, but that’s it! Call me in the Spring! Stay tuned.

I Love Football!   There.   Super Bowl is bittersweet for me;  love the game, but it means it’s the end of the season! Used to be, they played the Pro Bowl After the Super Bowl. That, at least gave me the chance to calm down, enjoy this last game without worrying who  would win.  Now, it’s played the week Before the Super Bowl. Who cares? My guy could get hurt – the week before he plays in the big game!  I’ve loved football forever. Fell in love with a player, had a son who played. Know the game pretty well (for a Girl). We used to host and go to Super Bowl parties. It was awkward for me – I always wanted to be in the room with the guys and the t.v. watching the game. Instead, I would sit in the other room with the wives and visit. I used to pretend Tom Laundry was kin to me! I wanted to adopt Michael Irving. We actually got Troy my boy’s autograph when we were  at the Stockyard Cafe in Nashville. Needless to say,  the Cowboys were my team – forever! The first time the Cowboys were NOT in the Super Bowl, I was Shocked! I thought the Super Bowl game, every year, was the Cowboys vs __________.  It’s kind of like the first President we elected after Eisenhower. I thought Eisenhower was like our King! I had no idea he could be replaced! Anyway, I’ve got my Bronco sweatshirt , more firewood ordered, makings for homemade chili, and lungs ready to Yell – one last time this year. I’ll probably nap through the Pro Bowl and dream of August. Stay tuned.

If you have been following along, you know that my 89 year old  mother, Sarah, lives in a nursing home called Rosewood. She has been there 3 years after having a series of little strokes.  She now has dementia that (I swear) comes and goes. Sarah has not gone gently into that good night by any means! Although she has settled down and settled in to her new home, I still get the occasional phone call from the staff at Rosewood. They always start the call saying, “Ms. Sarah is alright, but…..”  A couple of weeks ago, I got a very odd call. Tracy, her nurse said, “Ms. Sarah is alright, but today she was playing bingo, (?) she won (?) and as a prize, she got a bottle of body wash. (?)  Before we were able to get to her, she had unscrewed the cap and drank half the bottle of body wash! The doctor was called and except for coughing some and her eyes watering, she’s okay.”  I had several questions – which I posed to her main caregiver, Sheila.  How does a woman who supposedly has dementia Play, never mind, Win, at Bingo? Sheila’s answer was that of course, none of the residents really play the game and that they take turns letting every one win. Okay, got that. But why would you give an 89 year old (who does not bathe herself)  a bottle of body wash as a prize? At that age, if you can’t eat it, drink it, or use it to keep warm, what good is it?  Sheila explained that a lot of things are donated to the residents. When the staff gives out “prizes”, they don’t always have a lot to choose from;  socks, gloves, powder, body wash, are a few of the things that are donated. We agreed that Sarah would not be given any liquids as a prize anymore. Note to self – take your lazy self to Walmart and buy decent “prizes” to donate to Rosewood.  Stay tuned.