Tag: legacy writing

Legacy Writing 365:283

Today (Tuesday) is John Lennon’s birthday. I’ve told several John Lennon stories, including those associated with my late friend Riley, on my blog before. This time, I’m going to share someone else’s memories.

On Monday, Tom, Debby, and I went to Galveston. They’ve rebuilt the Pleasure Pier, a site with a long and rich hurricane-impacted history. Though none of us wanted to go on the rides, I did want to shoot photos. So Debby and Tom left me to it and walked along the beach looking for shells and enjoying a stunning day on a calm Gulf.


Disclaimer: Tom is not a smart phone person, so though it may look as if he’s staring at a phone as many of us Phone Zombies do, he’s probably examining a shell he picked up.

There was a live band playing on the Pleasure Pier. Most of what I heard sounded pretty good, though they did commit the nearly unpardonable crime of playing “Sweet Home Alabama.” You’d think, with my heritage, I’d love hearing that song, especially when I live several states from my homeland. But honestly, I heard enough of it in my youth to make me cringe whenever I hear those first guitar licks. So other than that, they sounded fine.

Later, I found out that while they were walking, Debby and Tom were also listening to the band, and when they played the Beatles’ “I Want to Hold Your Hand,” she reminisced to him about dancing to that song with her first boyfriend at her very first dance in the seventh grade. Or rather, as she called it, a “sock hop.” As she explained, the dances were held in the school gym, and so their shoes didn’t mess up the floor the basketball players used for their games, the kids danced in their sock (or stocking) feet.

Now really, who wouldn’t want to hold her hand?

Just before I left the pier to meet up with Debby and Tom, I grabbed this shot from the Rock and Roll ride.

The Beatles, collectively and individually, are part of the soundtrack of millions of lives. I wish we could have had all the music a few bullets denied us. John Lennon, you are still loved, remembered, and missed worldwide.

Peace.


Lennon Photo Archives, ©Yoko Ono

Legacy Writing 365:282

This is not one of my pictures, but one from an album of Tom’s family’s photos that Debby and I were looking through. I said, “Hey. Tom was hipster when hipster wasn’t cool.”


Debby said if this were a current-day photo I was putting on the Internet, someone would call Child Protective Services because “that child has a pipe in his mouth and he’s only three and a half.”

Oddly, Tom has never developed a tobacco habit. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Crazy Blogging Police.

Legacy Writing 365:281

Something I haven’t mentioned is that Lynne decided to sell Green Acres. It was a wonderful home with beautiful grounds where Jess grew from a toddler to a young man, but for a number of reasons, it became time for a change. One day I’m sure I’ll be sharing photos of her new place, and no matter what, I know it will have gorgeous grounds because gardening is one of Lynne’s passions. Meanwhile, some of her potted plants are on loan at The Compound, and since I am not exactly known for my green thumb, I’m hoping she plans to make regular visitations.

During the move, when Tom and Jess were putting items into storage, Jess apparently talked about some of the cats from Green Acres’ history. Coincidentally, I’d been planning to post a couple of my favorite cat photos today in honor of Jess’s birthday. Happy birthday, Jess!

Lynne once had a dog named Pepper, and when a new kitten came to Green Acres, Jess said he wanted another spice name. We went through a list, and he settled on Ginger. In one way it didn’t make sense, because the cat wasn’t red, but since I’m the person who encouraged Daniel to name his rocking horse Fido, I’m all in favor of defying standard name practices. Ginger he was. Except Craig either never remembered Ginger or didn’t like the name, because he always called Ginger “Bubba.” In time, the rest of us called him Bubba, too.

Bubba was an outside cat–he wouldn’t have had it any other way because Green Acres was surrounded by lots of undeveloped land ideal for feline stalking and exploring. Unfortunately, this lifestyle can leave long, flowing cat hair matted and tangled, and so it was that Bubba once needed a somewhat severe haircut.

I don’t think Bubba was amused, but I sure was. (Aside: Lynne recently found out the wooden toy box Bubba stands on in this photo was built by her father.)

Since I was so rude as to laugh hysterically during Bubba’s photo session, Jess was quick to comfort him. I especially like the tuft of hair at the end of Bubba’s tail.

Speaking of hairdos, during the time of this photo, Jess’s hair was mullet cut–buzzed in the front with some length in the back that ended in a rattail. I’ve read that the rattail is making a comeback. However, I’m not sure any cats will bring the Bubba cut back into vogue.

Legacy Writing 365:279

Sometimes I find things I’ve forgotten I own. I was moving stuff around the other day, including an interesting wooden box on little wheels, and I wondered what might be inside it. Among other things, I found a bag of rune stones and the book that goes with them. Once I saw them, I remembered that I used to enjoy the stones, but they’ve long been out of sight, out of mind.

The stone I pulled out for this photo has the symbol for strength on it. The stone is called Uruz and suggests endings and beginnings. Sometimes there’s a period of darkness and loss before a new opportunity presents itself.

The reason I pulled it was because my late friend John wore that symbol on a necklace until he died. I think James kept the pendant afterward and wore it for a time, too, not only in memory of John, but to remind him that out of deep loss can come new perspective and strength. That can be a hard lesson, but it’s something positive we can take forward.

October 5 is John’s birthday. I still smile when I think of him–he was full of mischief and sometimes got me into trouble, almost like a bratty little brother. I miss him and feel so fortunate to have known him for the time I did.


John on his birthday in 1993. Maybe out of sight now–but never out of mind.

Legacy Writing 365:278

Another Christmas, and a few thoughts come to mind with this photo.

I like the way Mother wrapped the coffee table like a Christmas present. I still miss that angel and wish she’d given it to me instead of throwing it away. The angel was a Christmas tradition for many years after this photo was taken, but I wonder if this might have been her first Christmas with us.

My sister has a sort of glazed look in her eyes that I know well. It’s a common malady among Cochranes and means, “Could I please just continue to read without all these interruptions?”

I’m displaying one of those LifeSavers books that holds several varieties of the candy. LifeSavers are a hundred years old this year, and that’s about how old this photo is, too. 😉 But I still remember getting that book of all those different flavors, and I probably still wouldn’t like the pineapple LifeSaver.


A tin I’ve had for several years. More than forty additional flavors have been created since Clarence Crane came up with his original Pep-O-Mint® candy.

Legacy Writing 365:277

One December, Mother, Daniel, and I drove to Kentucky to spend a few days with Debby, her kids, and her roommate, Kathy. A couple of things I remember about that trip: My mother told me I never put enough mayonnaise in my tuna salad, potato salad, or pimento cheese. Now you’ve been warned if you ever ask me to make you stuff with mayo in it. I may use Hellmann’s, but NOT ENOUGH.

Also, that was the trip when I met Mandy.


Mandy was Kathy’s dog, and she had two unusual skills. She could blow out the flame on a Bic, and she could bark, “Go Big Blue!” Pretty impressive, right?

My dogs: gold-medalist nappers.

Legacy Writing 365:276

One of the main reasons I scanned in this photo was so I could look at it enlarged to see if I could figure out what gift Daddy was opening one Christmas morning. And that reminded me…

Do they still make Aqua Velva? Because once again, impressionable me can remember the commercial jingle from my young years–the power of advertising!

I don’t know how many bottles of Aqua Velva I bought my father for his birthday, Father’s Day, and Christmas. Until a year when I was all grown up and we were sitting around the table making plans for the holidays and he said, “I need to ask you something.”

“Sure,” I said.

“Please don’t buy me another bottle of Aqua Velva.”

“You don’t like it anymore?” I asked.

“I never did,” he admitted.

“Me, either!”

I still don’t know what that is in the photo; I kind of wish it was Aqua Velva.

Legacy Writing 365:275

While I was in graduate school and throughout my twenties, I had a lot of different jobs, sometimes two or three at a time, to pay the bills, keep food on the table, and pay for books and tuition. There was a point when my income was so low that I was even on food stamps for a brief time–because, you know, I’m in that forty-seven percent of people always looking for a handout.

Shockingly, working at a convenience store wasn’t the worst job I ever had, though it was certainly a low-paying one. I did it all one summer, and in spite of the fact that in a one-week period, (1) my apartment was broken into and I lost most of my jewelry and an old stereo, among other things; (2) the guy I was dating who was also employed by that store for the summer was robbed at work at gunpoint; and (3) my purse containing both his and my paychecks and income tax refund checks was stolen when I was on my way to the bank to make a deposit, the customers made that job a constant source of entertainment. The regulars gave me plenty of stories to share with my friends and later to weave into fictitious plots and characters. In fact, even when summer was over and I was back in school, I kept working the early Sunday morning shift for several months because I wanted to.

I missed my regulars when I left. I still remember a lot of them fondly, especially the elderly lady with the white poodle who always reminded me a little of the lonely woman Jimmy Stewart watched in Rear Window. I hope my replacement took good care of her.

Legacy Writing 365:274 and Button Sunday

I’m betting this button came to me via my sister.

I may as well get this out of the way, because I know it’ll be shocking to some of you. I wasn’t a Scooby-Doo fan. I watched it if I’d spent the night with Lynne, because she watched it, but it was not a must-see for me. I hope this doesn’t disappoint anyone; I liked plenty of other Hanna-Barbera cartoons, including the Flintstones and Yogi Bear, also featured on the button. But in the great realm of television cartoons, I was more of a Looney Tunes fan (Daffy Duck being my favorite of all TV cartoon characters).

Still, I definitely tuned in to The Jetsons and The Flintstones. Although even as a little tot, one thing always drove me crazy on The Flintstones. In the closing credits, when Fred put Baby Puss, the saber-toothed cat, out at night, Baby Puss jumped back in through the window, put Fred out, and locked the door. Fred then banged on the door and hollered for Wilma. Why didn’t Fred go through the window, too? I guess I was a hard-sell on that gag.

I’ll never forget how excited I was when my mother drove us to the Sinclair station so I could get my inflatable Dino for our little backyard swimming pool. Somehow my brain thought Sinclair’s mascot Dino and the Flintstones’ dogasaurus were the same creature. I blame black and white television: Who knew Dino was a purplish color?

When Dino got punctured, I was heartbroken, and Mother actually bought me a replacement Dino, which was rare. Usually, if you broke something, that was it. Dino 2 definitely lasted through the end of summer, and by the next year, we’d moved, the pool was no more, and Dino was forgotten. That’s the kind of memory that makes Toy Story 3 heart-wrenching for adults, isn’t it?