At least, I cannot…
I happened to be visiting a medical specialist near my old stomping grounds Friday last – where I owned a home for eighteen years.
No, I didn’t drive by the old house. Too many memories, besides, they completely fixed it up and changed it (I have been by before).
When I left the doctor’s office, I headed South to the next major artery. This happened to be near John’s Uniforms and Police Equipment, previously recounted in these pages. I worked there many moons ago as the de facto holster guy.
And it wasn’t there!
Rather something was there – Skaggs Public Safety Equipment and Uniforms. I knew Johnny retired some years back, but had not known he sold the place!
An era has passed. The ‘Green Machine’, used by John, Senior to manufacture western shirts and class A wool police uniforms (with sap pockets) for over forty years is obviously no longer in use.
And seeing this made me a little sad…
I didn’t drive West to observe Martin’s Uniforms (Johnny’s friendly enemy with whom they exchanged stock for many years) because I’d been by there a while back and saw it was now Ace Uniforms. I don’t know (or particularly care) if Ace is still there.
Back when it was John’s versus Martin’s was the pre-Internet world. And most other uniform emporia across the country were closed shops by the local police departments.
I have many fond memories of helping newly-minted cops in various varieties obtain uniforms, gear and holsters. And listening to their ‘war stories’ around the communal store coffee pot.
But no longer.
The times. They are a changin’.
It’s sad when a purveyor of a childhood memory is taken.
Sadder still when two are.
I’ve never been a big horror movie fan, falling for the less obvious thriller genre. But I recognize talent when I see it.
1968’s Night of the Living Dead began resurgence of horror films, many of whom were directed yet again by Mr. Romero.
The man had talent and style.
Martin Landau was a character acting fixture in my childhood, even when I didn’t know him by name.
The Untouchables, Bonanza, The Twilight Zone, I Spy, Mission Impossible (on television) and North By Northwest and Ed Wood (in the movies).
And many other works…
I was never a Space 1999 fan, though…
He could play both charming and lethal.
I shall miss him
My college mate, friend, and boss (when I worked security at the closed Legend City amusement park, in the 70s) has passed away.
Fair Winds and Following Seas, My Friend!
We only recently reconnected on Facebook after a 30 year absence.
As Father’s day is looming, I was going to write initially something about my Father, his Father, my Grandfather, or having been a father, etc….
But, you guys have already seen this in this venue.
I was a step-child. And my step-mother and I were not in agreement on most things. Like how to treat me. And my father was largely absent. My childhood memories are largely not pleasant ones.
Here’s what John’s stepson and one of his daughters had to say about him.
For Father’s Day.
John Conneally was my step-father from my body’s age of 8 1/2 to 14 1/2 and helped Tina Poling-Conneally raise me during those years. He introduced me critical analysis, science fiction, the concepts of leadership, teamwork, discipline, tactics, strategy, deduction and showed me what being brilliant without much solid, applicable way to make it useful for one’s self and society as a whole. As invaluable as they all are the most important one for me is the latter, and it motivates me more and more each day.
John died sometime either last night or today of complications from leukemia, liver failure and lung cancer. He had exposure to horrendous chemical wastes and other environmental hazards while in the Navy which very likely caused his leukemia and the liver and lung cancer came from self-medicating with tobacco and alcohol to keep his highly sensitive and strong soul from feeling and dealing with the internal awarenesses the society he grew up in had zero ability to teach him how to handle; John would have been a capable medicine man, shaman, holistic therapist and healing artist had he been born into this part of the world in the 80’s to today.
He lived as best a life as he could and I am glad I was able to be influenced by his life, both the good and the bad. May his pathways now lead him through all the misconceptions _and_ perfection of his life he just left. May his soul reach out to the wonders he sought and may be achieve them increasingly and unceasingly.
May he be able to choose rebirth, if and when he wants to from the realms of Experience that are without sufferings, pain fear and lack. May his lives and experiences between lives be of benefit to himself and All Beings.
Fare well, John Conneally. I am praying for you and perhaps we’ll meet again someday in much better and healthier ways.
Love to you.
It’s a very hard thing, to think of someone you love in the past tense. Rest in peace, Dad. You are already missed.
My wish for all of you as parents is to be as well thought of and loved in hindsight, as John’s children have of him.
Long-time readers of my humble blog might notice I don’t usually make mention of the above ‘Hallmark holiday’.
First, my real Mother, the woman who bore me, passed away when I was in the Second Grade, directly because of her addictive personality. She was ill my entire life with emphysema. I barely knew her – certainly not enough to bond, or to have fond memories.
My Father loved her immensely. Her death about killed him.
Subsequently, he met, dated and married the woman who became my stepmother. She obviously wanted to be with him, but soon after the marriage, it became apparent she had no patience to raise yet another child. She already had two grown of her own. And deeply resented my Father’s traveling for business, and being absent because of his addiction to sports – watching, officiating, refereeing, umpiring, baseball, softball, basketball, football and hockey.
And, not to put to fine a point on it – she took her resentment out on me.
So, my relationship with my mothers was lacking at best. Certainly it colored my future relationships with other women.
But, I am learning.
My ex-wife receives a bouquet of roses every Mother’s Day. And has for the past twenty-two years. Not because I wish to rekindle the relationship (we remain friends), but because our daughter Molly is unable to get them for her.
It’s the least I can do.
To all of you who had good moms out there, Good For You!
I wish I had…
My dear friend, and blog brother, after having been squelched by WordPress, returned this week to his earlier Blogger software.
But to no avail.
He advised us Friday as his numbers have dropped significantly, he would no longer be posting his blog from Alaska, Way Up North!
This is a damn shame.
He has been an inspiration for Christians and non-Christians alike. And has been a good friend to me on and off the Internet.
And to all of us who believe in The United States and Freedom!
It has been said that blogging is dying. Between people choosing to leave, and others actually passing away, this may be true.
Paul was one of my earliest followers and cheerleaders. Thank you!
Godspeed, Rev. Paul!
You know me and anniversaries.
This is the day my Mom passed, in the 50’s. I was just a little kid.
This is the day, 1n 2009, lymphoma reared it’s head. I am now in remission (cancer free!) 🙂
So January 26 doesn’t hold many positive memories for me.
In 1967 (correct from the previously reported 1966), my beloved Sister Ellie gave birth to a son. Who ultimately married, fathered four wonderful children (one of whom is autistic – and is doing spectacularly in his own right!). And in spite of divorce has remained a terrific, supportive, loving father to all.
He is my nephew Brian (aka Skeets). And I couldn’t be more proud as he turns 50 today!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY BRIAN!
My most sincere and deepest thanks for the responses to my bleg posted below!
Not just the practical, but the prayers and good thoughts, as well.
One of the things about the Internet that never ceases to amaze me, is with all the political and religious divisiveness that one sees on the computer screen, when difficulties occur, people step up!
We now have enough funding to obtain a replacement controller for the lift chair, as well as some other needed items, like the shoulder cooling vest my roommate will need following her surgery.
She and I are both overwhelmed, and very grateful!
Being disabled, including a fused right hip, makes raising up from seated, especially of the lower variety chair, difficult, painful and sometimes ne’er impossible.
So, after my roommate’s stepmother passed, when we were tasked with emptying her home for sale, I was most grateful I was offered her ‘lift chair’! Having a fulcrum in the front of the recliner, it lifts one up out of the chair from seated. The process is reversed to sit.
Quite nice, really.
The control extends the chair to operate as a recliner, and even lays out flat, for sleeping!
However, it’s been in regular use for a few years now, and the controller module is failing!
Meaning it will no longer recline, is stuck in one sitting position, and sometimes will not elevate.
A problem for me, meaning my knee often goes out when I get up! Sometimes I can get it back into place in twenty seconds – sometimes not in twenty minutes. Sigh.
And it’s VERY painful.
(And knee braces are not possible, for too many reasons to go into here.)
A problem for my roommate (besides having to listen to me yell and whine) because SHE will need the chair soon to sleep in (post shoulder rotator cuff surgery). (I’ll be sitting in a straight chair in the interim.)
And a replacement control unit is almost $100 !
Funds are always tight, even more so now with her working less with the bad shoulder. She hasn’t worked a ‘regular’ work week in over a year, with her many health issues.
I don’t usually bleg, but contributions to my PayPal account (on the right sidebar) in any amount would be most appreciated!
Failing that, a good thought or prayer if that’s what you do. She will probably miss 12 weeks of work.
The surgeon says if she doesn’t have the repair surgery soon, it will become a replacement (!)
And please don’t tell her I asked – she’d have a fit. (she doesn’t always read the blog.)
Thank you for your kind consideration! 🙂
I’m disabled. For a number of reasons, including lymphoma. I don’t make much money on disability. I’ve an old, beater car, without working A/C. I rent a room in which to live. I’ve no romantic relationship in my life. I have chronic pain issues. They will never get better.
Sometimes, as above, I whine about these things. The holidays do not help.
But, The Universe usually doesn’t let me sit on the pity pot too long…
Some time back, I reached out to a friend-of-long-ago on Facebook. And, he never responded. Oh, well. He was a college classmate, who became my boss (for a time) then a good friend. And we lost track of each other because of Life.
I was always a little envious of him. In college, he was in good shape, having just left The Marines. He
was handsome. Sparkling blue eyes, a shock of black hair, chiseled jaw and a permanent five-o’clock shadow with a blue/black beard undertone. He kinda resembled the adult cartoon character Archer. And his wife was gor-geous! (Maybe that was the most envious part?)
Well, I finally heard back from him on Facebook!
We all have our ‘stuff’. He is no different.
He’s divorced, and NOT friendly with his ex. (I am with mine.) He, too is on disability, brought about by his military service. He has a type of chronic leukemia. Not necessarily lethal, but in need of regular treatment. (Which he now receives).
And he told me he had been homeless for ELEVEN YEARS!!!
He is now working with other homeless veterans to help them get back on their feet and find places to live.
And to think I was whining earlier…
♫ “When I’m Sixty Four”♫
Every summer we can rent a cottage in the Isle of Wight
If it’s not too dear
We shall scrimp and save
Grandchildren on your knee
Vera, Chuck & Dave
Send me a postcard, drop me a line
Stating point of view
Indicate precisely what you mean to say
Yours sincerely, wasting away
Give me your answer, fill in a form
Mine for evermore
Will you still need me, will you still feed me
When I’m sixty-four?
(apologies to Paul McCartney)