Did you ever have a room to be a catch-all? Of course, you had plans to clean it up, but it was never done — or put off until the litter was so bad you never wanted anyone else to see it. It was your secret hideaway and it really didn’t bother you until you thought of someone else seeing it.
Well, that’s me and my computer room after our sons either married or went off to college — except for Bobby whose bedroom took up a quarter of the basement after his marriage failed. Most of his bedroom space was taken up with exercise equipment.
Just like so many things — I decided to make a change and clean up my computer room starting last Friday and Saturday. And would you guess, I’m only about halfway through?
On Saturday, I started a task I knew would have to take place sooner or later — cleaning out my file drawer where each week I would put the 8.5 x 11-inch paper copies of Roving Around after it was typed and I proofed from this.
You may have guessed what happened. I had to read each one again and put them in two files — one for those too good to be thrown out and may be used again, and the others thrown out for recycling.
Of course, this takes a lot longer than just plain throwing everything out and my progress is very slow. However, it may save me a lot of time later and provide me with some good Roving Around columns for future use.
I will let you know how far back the columns go when I can reach that point.
A phrase no member of our family will forget
I thought this column was one of my best from May 8, 2014. I hope you enjoy it again or for the first time. Read on!
Some things are remembered so well, they become a part of our lives. I will never forget the time my close fiend, the late Bryant Cash, and I were sergeants in the Youngsville National Guard unit and we were on the firing range at Fort Bragg to qualify with our rifles during our annual two-week summer encampment.
Bryant was a muscular, very strong guy and he didn’t take anything he didn’t like from anyone. And to make him even more disturbing, he had a short fuse when it came to patience. Most people who knew him didn’t mess with him if they knew what was good for them.
But Bryant and I got along fine, and we often talked about our Ford cars. Ford was the common denominator which always kept our talks interesting. We both loved Fords.
Now that you know a little more about Bryant, I want to fill you in about what happened at that firing range.
Military regulations require a person firing on the range to use the stob marked with a number corresponding to the target number, only for identification. It is not there for supporting your rifle or arm.
Just before Bryant was about to take his turn firing, I noticed he had his rifle leaning on the stob (or post) and I said something to Bryant about it. He replied, “Oh, it doesn’t make any difference,” and I let it go at that.
Minutes later, the corporal in charge of seeing that everyone was in their correct positions, walked close-by and called out with authority, “Sergeant, take that rifle off that stob.” And Bryant in his strongest gruff voice quickly snapped back with, “Who’s firing this damn rifle?”
The slender, young corporal looking our way, hesitated as if sizing up this sergeant, and then walked off without another word.
It was a memorable moment and as I write this nearly three decades later, I can I can still see it as if my mind had snapped a photo and recorded the short, but strong confrontation. The strange thing that happened — after telling my family about the encounter, each one of us used Bryant’s reply for our own situations as they arose. And it always lightened a tense situation or often maybe even a laugh.
Yes, some things are never forgotten, and this was one of them which happened about 62 years ago.
Great, guy, but you didn’t mess with him
There was another encounter I remember well. Soon after delivery of my mandarin orange and white ’56 Ford Victoria hardtop at Cruser Motor Co. here in Wake Forest, there were a lot of things which needed to be adjusted and I made a list of them.
Bryant was working there as a mechanic and I took my new car to him and handed him my list. He looked at it and said, “Do you know what I do with these? I throw them in the trash, but for you, I will keep it”
Yes, Bryant was a great guy, but you didn’t mess with him, if you knew what was good for you. I was glad he was my friend.
Quote of the week
“Act, if you like — but do it at your peril. Men’s actions are too strong for them. Show me a man who has acted and who has not been the victim and slave of his action.”
Ralph Waldo Emerson, Goethe, Representative Men, 1850.
Maybe you have an interesting story to tell. Write Bob Allen at email@example.com.