Cop Car's Beat

Macrame flower holder

I mentioned to Hattie, of Hattie's Web, in a comment on my own posting, It's a red letter day, that Bogie, of Bogieblog, had (many years ago) made a beautifully macramed bouquet holder. Here's a photo of it, as it sits on my piano.

 

Pop's file of wise sayings

My father-in-law, whom we all called Pop, was a chemist by training who worked as a chemical engineer for an oil company for a few years before returning to school (teaching chemistry to support his family) to earn another degree, in pharmacy. From the time he was graduated from St Louis School of Pharmacy, Pop nearly always owned a drug store (although he did, again, return to school to learn about computers and held at least one patent - on a hand-held device to punch IBM cards that in those days controlled a computer.)

We (Hunky Husband and I) are in possession of a stash of wise sayings that Pop had obviously taped up at his station where he filled prescriptions. Some of them appear below.

    "A flow of words is no proof of wisdom." - Anonymous

    "Experience is what you get when you expected something else." - Anonymous

    "Anybody who thinks education is too high hasn't paid for ignorance yet." - Bob Hardy, heard on KMOX in 1987.

    "No rule for success will work if you won't." - Elmer G Leterman

    "True friends visit us in prosperity only when invited but in adversity they come without invitation." - Theophrastus [Greek philosopher who studied under Aristotle and who is generally credited with founding Botany. CC]

    "By the time you realize your parents were right you have children who think you are wrong." - No attribution given.

    "Life's lessons are learned through the management of obstacles." - No attribution given.    

"A conviction is that splendid quality in ourselves which we call bullheadedness in others." - No attribution given.

    "The way to succeed is to build your weaknesses until they become your strengths." - Knute Rockne

 

It's a red letter day.

 
Do you ever lose track of one of your prized possessions for a few years? I do.

When we moved to Seattle in 1965, I lost track of three things (that I knew of). Two were of no importance - a lint brush (for brushing off clothing - remember those?) and something else of equal triviality. The third item, however, was my membership pin for Sigma Pi Sigma, the physics honorary society. The three items showed up about 18 months later when, having just moved back to Kansas, I checked to assure that I had removed everything from the pockets of my luggage. Hmmf! I had failed to make that check when we moved to Seattle!

Unfortunately, I put the Sigma Pi Sigma pin onto a charm bracelet, using colorless nail polish to glue the catch in the "locked" position. You guessed it. I lost the pin, again! The second time seems to have been permanent, 43 years having passed without my having seen the pin again.

In 2006, I realized that I had lost my expired passport (procrastination prevailed in renewing it.) That passport has not yet surfaced. In my bones, I know it is still around here, someplace!

Last year, when I was packing emergency equipment into my trunk, I could not find my jump boots. (I always carry stuff during winter months, including a hooded down-filled parka, fur-lined leather gloves, a cashmere neck scarf, high-top boots & socks, and a small scoop shovel.) After tearing the house and garage apart looking for those jump boots, I was distraught!

My jump boots were purchased at an Army/Navy surplus store in the late 1970s as parachute jumping wear. I loved them. (I told my husband that I want to be buried in them! Well...that will be hard since I am to be cremated, but it's the thought that counts.) They are the only pair of footwear that I've owned that have never, ever hurt my feet - not for an instant!

When I was through parachuting (I made only four jumps - it does cost money, and I preferred to spend what little money I had at the time on another hobby, flying), I had the jump boots' slick soles replaced with Vibram waffle soles, and they became my preferred footwear for anytime I could reasonably excuse showing up in jump boots. They were usually polished to a luster, and I had no qualms about showing up for work (or even meetings with the Air Force) in business-type wool pants, and jump boots! (It gave Bogie and Dudette an excuse to tell everyone that, indeed, their mother wore/wears Army boots!)

I was frantic, trying to find my jump boots. I convinced myself that, much as I loved those jump boots, I had given them away. (I am prone to giving things away on the spur-of-the-moment and then forgetting about having done so!) Bogie said that I had not sent them to her. Well...eventually...I gave up hope of finding them even though I told myself that they would turn up somewhere. It didn't seem possible that they were still around.

It was possible. Today, in a corner of the closet in my den, I found a tote bag. My mother had received the tote bag as a premium on a cosmetics purchase, and had passed it along to me. When I lifted it, the bag seemed heavy. I was puzzled as to what I had stowed in it.

Veterans Day

A huge "Thank you" to all our veterans who have served our country well. I salute you.

I remember Pearl Harbor and, a couple of years later, joining our community (Milo MO) in worrying about one of our "local boys" who served in the Army Air Corps. (Fred Emery was shot down while "flying the hump". His back was broken during his parachute landing in China - where the Chinese did not understand English, of course.) We certainly learned to appreciate our veterans in those days, although the last members of my own family (at that time) to have served were my great-great grandfather (Civil War) and my great-grandfather (Spanish-American War). I never knew my great-great grandfather; but, as my great-grandfather lived until I was in college, I remember having him tell me about his service as a cook - how, one day, all that he had to feed "his men" was 1/2 pound of bacon.

From age 11, in 1949, I participated in Kansas City MO's community displays of pride in our veterans.  The photo, below, shows (in the white uniforms - left to right) the girl who lived across the street from me (Mildred), her cousin (Judy), and me as we marched in our first-ever Veterans Day parade. The other two girls were a year younger than I was and complained mightily about the cold wind that whipped through Kansas City that day. The photo was snapped just as we joined the parade - before we got goosebumps! We participated in several more parades, and entertained the veterans at the American Legion during the next few years. I particularly remember a performance at the American Legion. We performed in the dark, twirling batons that were lighted at either end - one red, one blue.  I dropped my baton but did not realize that one light had been broken in the drop. Everyone told me that I stood out as the twirler with only one end of her baton shining. They couldn't see the drop and thought I was using one light on purpose!

 

On a more serious note, I was proud that Hunky Husband was a member of the Air National Guard - first, in Missouri where (if memory serves) he served as an enlisted member of the cryptography section of the 131st Fighter Interceptor Wing, then, in Kansas where (same caveat) he served as Avionics (later, Communications) Officer for the 127th Tactical Fighter Group.

The photo, below, shows HH with a bunch of other ANG members with whom he trained at summer camp in the early 1960s. He is in the back row at the right hand end. Photo by: 185th Tac Fighter Grp, Iowa ANG.

 

Finally, I was proud to serve in the US Naval Reserve, in which I enlisted in 1980 - one day shy of my 42nd birthday on which I would have been too old to enlist. Nearly a year later, I was sent to the New Orleans Naval Air Station for "basic" training that was available for folks like me who enlisted at an advanced pay grade - E-6 (Petty Officer First Class) in my case. As the only E-6 in my class at that training, I was class leader. This was hilarious because nearly all of my classmates had previous military service (Army, Navy, Air Force, Marine, Coast Guard) when they enlisted.  My report to the training site was the first time I'd had a full uniform to wear (women were still rare enough that clothing issues were slow in arriving, not to mention the problems encountered in obtaining proper working clothing issues for a woman who happened to be an aircraft mechanic!)

In the photo, below, I am at the center of the photo, wearing sunglasses, looking very much as the daughter of a good friend put it "a prison matron". Our instructor, the Chief Petty Officer at the right hand end of the front row, very gently told me that I was "out of uniform". The assistant instructor is the Petty Officer First Class at the left hand end of the front row.  I had been issued the aircraft structural mechanic rating badge for a male's uniform. Note how much larger the rating badge on my sleeve is than those of the other women - partly because I had more stripes, but mostly because they had women's rating badges. Fortunately, I was able to go to the base exchange to buy the appropriate rating badges and sew them onto my uniform sleeves.  (Note that a few students are in civilian dress, having reported for ACDUTRA prior to being issued clothing.)

 
The Petty Officer Second Class at the right hand end of the middle row and the Petty Officer Third Class just left of center in the front row were my roommates in the "barracks".