My Version of the Outsiders

I can’t remember the first time I smoked. I obviously was trying to be “grown up”. I do remember taking some of my lawn mowing money and buying cigarettes when I was 12 or 13. I also remember buying them from Mr. Lawson’s store, near the Junior High School, for 2 cents apiece.


By the time I entered high school I was an old hand at it, and so were a lot of others. During any given school day, between classes and at lunch time, there were a few dozen people heading for the smoking areas.

Most of them were guys. Occasionally there were a 2 or 3 girls out there, but they were way outnumbered. They also seemed to have their own cigarettes, which was not a trait of some of the guys. There always seemed to be 2 or 3 guys at each smoking break who didn’t have any cigarettes.

I understand the some folks viewed the smokers as “hoodlums”, or at least that was a word I heard bandied about, but there were some good people out there. Wayne McNabb, the best friend I’ve had in my whole life was one of them. He wasn’t a hoodlum. Scott Thornburg was a smoker and was later killed in Vietnam. He wasn’t a hoodlum. Danny Thornburg and Billy Wilson did their time in Vietnam. They weren’t hoodlums. Estes Queener, Jabbo Lynn, Allen McNabb, Steve Knox; each one a good guy, and neither was a hoodlum.

Besides, there were other smokers. You couldn’t be a smoker without bumping into some of the “closet smokers” from time to time. Some of the jocks and the “brainy” kids (I think now they’re called nerds), and even some of the “regular” people, lit one up every now and again. They just didn’t want to be seen outside between classes because it might tarnish their reputation, or in the jocks case, get them kicked off the team.

Later, after I joined the military I learned how to “field strip” a cigarette butt and learn terms like, “smoke ‘em if you got ‘em”, but smoking didn’t have the same pleasure it carried in high school. As an adult, you could smoke at your desk or almost anyplace else, so it became an individual thing. On the back balcony of the high school, there was a camaraderie that went along with it.

I actually miss it sometimes. Even the cigarette bums.

Comfortable Memories

As we age, we usually reach a point where smaller, simpler things take on more meaning. They are things that comfort our mind and our body and sometimes, even our soul.

For me, there’s the 20 odd year old recliner that fits me to a tee, cushioning my head and just the right length for my feet; or the tee shirt that serves as my night shirt most of the time – it’s worn and stretched and has a few small holes, and it’s comfortable beyond believe; or the cloth lined leather moccasins that I wear around the house to keep my feet warm during the winter.

Each one is simple and each one is priceless.

Also among these comfortable things I rely on so much are my memories. They are nestled in my sub conscientious, ready to spring out at a moment’s notice. Anything can be a catalyst to bring them rushing back; a picture, a song, a place, a person, or even a smell.

They’re a favorite toy I play with sometimes. I hold them up, turning them this way and that, relishing the warmth they bring me.

I think we’re all like that – treasuring those little pieces of our past. Obviously, the good memories are the best, but after a time even a bad memory has its place there too. It may not be something to make us smile; on the contrary, some of them will bring back tears even years after they happened, but we remember how we dealt with them, fought with them and lived through them, and that part makes it a good memory.

They all become so fixed in our minds that we know they happened just the way we remember. Why wouldn’t they? We have carried them so long that we have it all memorized to a tee. Or do we?

One day we might meet up with someone, or be in a situation that makes us look them over again, only a little more closely this time. Could it be possible that after all this time we might be wrong?

Facebook can provide such a situation. We run into old friends and family members that we haven’t seen in ages and we rush to say hello, thinking they might be just as excited to see us as we are to see them; and just as eager about sharing those old memories. Well, they will, won’t they?

Maybe, maybe not.

They may remember us, but it's almost a sure bet they don’t remember things exactly the same way we do. Or maybe they don’t remember us at all. If that’s the case, forget about talking over old memories.

So what do we do? The only thing we can do is accept it. Just as our lives have been different, so have our memories. Our memories are from our perspective, not theirs, so the memories will be different. That doesn’t necessarily make them wrong, and it certainly doesn’t make them any less special. We may have to alter or patch a few, but hey, we’ve been altering and patching things in our lives almost daily.

Besides, talking them over can breathe a new life into some of them and strengthen the bond between us and our old companions, and that can only be a good thing.

How Do We Keep Up?

You know what is the toughest part about getting older? The things we didn't see coming. I expect the grey hair, wrinkles, middle aged spread (or more), crankiness, the snap, crackle and pop of my joints sometime when I move, the running out of steam quicker, and other things along these lines. What I have real issues with are the things I thought were at least semi-permanent. Like these:


It’s okay to spank your kid’s backside if he needs it.
Nope. Not anymore. You’ll ruin his self-esteem and you may end up in jail.

Sugar is bad, bad, bad. We’re taking it out of everything.
Nope. Not anymore. High Fructose Corn Syrup is worse, so we’re putting real sugar back in.

Kids need both a mother and a father figure when they’re growing up.
Nope. Not anymore. Same sex couples can now raise kids as well as a Mom and Pop.

Start a savings account at the bank early and grow your nest egg so you’ll have it when you need it.
Nope. Not anymore. Buy whatever you want with a credit card, or get a home loan with no money down. It’s safe.

The only way you can get tainted food is if you didn’t use it right away or you did not cook or store it properly.
Nope. Now you can get tainted meat and eggs and even fruit and vegetables right at the store.

American products were the best because they were made right here at home with pride and good ol’ American know how.
Nope. Not anymore. If the jobs haven’t already gone overseas they may soon get sent over there and pride and good ol’ American know how have been replaced by keeping the stock holders happy.

Before each school year, we used to go shopping for new “school clothes”. We wanted to look nice and besides, we had a dress code.
Nope. Not anymore. The boy’s clothes can’t get much looser and the girls’ clothes can’t get much tighter, and who cares what you look like when you go to school anyway?

We would run and play from early morning to well past dusk with usually nothing more than a pair of cutoff jeans on.
Nope. Not anymore. Now there are elbow guards, knee guards, helmets, running shoes, hiking shoes and climbing boots.

We could cover the whole town when we were out. Nobody said a word.
Nope. Not anymore. Now strangers who talk to kids may do more than just talk.

Just the idea of being sent to the office if you messed up, even when you were older, was enough to get your attention, even if you were macho and acted like it was no big deal. It was a big deal to your school, your parents or both.
Nope. Not anymore. Now they have cops assigned to the schools. Some folks say it’s in case something bad happens at the school but it still makes you wonder.

Okay, so the times are a-changing and we should change along with them, but sometimes change gets harder as you get older.