Thursday, June 11, 2026

1963 Magnavox

 

A friend has done a series of posts about her and Jeffs lifelong romance, and all they had been through.
Jeff  hired me to work for his tile company back about 2001. I worked for Jeff about a year. I didn’t do very good work for him, but he hung with me and did everything he could to help me. It was a time in my life that help was a bit wasted on me. But that didn’t stop Jeff from trying. I think our association and my employment ceased when I spent two weeks in jail.

Years passed and I got better. Took an office job in 2004. Twenty three years later, I’m still there.

One of my fondest memories was answering the phone at work one day. We get calls from people wanting their television repaired. But we don't repair televisions. Usually I cut them off and refer them to Hurst TV and Appliance . Sometimes rather rudely.
 But this one day at work the phone rang and the man was telling me about his television, and how he needed it repaired. He sounded a bit elderly.  He had a kind warm unhurried voice with a wonderful Southern drawl.

He said “I have a stereo and television console. It’s a Magnavox, we bought it in 1963, and we never had a problem with it. But lately it seems to take a long time to warm up, and the color is off, and the stereo sounds kind of scratchy.  I don’t know anything about these things. Can you repair it for me?”
I just listened , and I listened long enough that the voice became familiar.
‘Sir, if you have had that since 1963 I’d say you got your money’s worth. Most people these days just go out and buy a new one. I’m sad to say that we don’t repair things like that. But you can call Hurst TV and Appliance. They may be able to help you”
And then It hit me, where I’d heard that voice before. Jeff had had me do some work for his parents. They treated me like one of their own. Fed me lunch and dinner, and some kind of wonderful Anastasi dried beans and had Nora Jones playing on the 1963 Magnavox stereo. Jeff and his dad had the same voice, and same manner of speech and I was talking to Jeffs dad.
I was sure of it so I added “This wouldn’t happen to be Mr Maddox, would it?”

And sure as hell it was.

Here's the thing. It changed the way I answer the phone at work. I'm never short or rude anymore. I even hung up a post it note with the phone number for Hurst TV and Appliance so that I can provide that to folks that call, looking for help

And when I get those calls, I always think of Jeff and his father.
It’s a good thing to let good people influence us. Jeff and his father, they were good people.

Tuesday, June 09, 2026

Mohawk

Dad used to tell me he and the guys sported Mohawks during WWII. He was a pretty tight lipped, serious, and conservative man, and I didnt know whether to believe him or not. But here it is, somewhere around Capistrano Italy, and dad about 25 years old. Looks like he might be firing up a grill.




Friday, June 05, 2026

My Furry Mothership Hat



In 1977 and everybody was doing Disco, I decided to go full on Funk. It was my way of rebelling while also joining in on the fun. I got myself a pair of Whalebones shoes, a stretchy nylon shirt with a big train on it, bought some Curtis Mayfield and Sly and the Family Stone albums, and that’s when it happened . I ran head on into George Clinton and Parliament Funk!
With its Mothership Connection, tunes like “Dr. Funkentstein's Supergroovalisticprosifunkstication Medley”, “Night Of The Thumpasorus People” the big hit “Tear The Roof Off The Sucker” and Bootsy Collins slappin’ his Space Bass, I was hooked on funk..
This wasn’t Disco, this was Disco on a bad batch of STP, a cross between downtown Detroit and Hollywood from some other dimension.
It was another one of those albums that when I took it to a party, I was handed back my big furry Mothership hat.




You're Not Misunderstood, You're Just Doing Stupid Stuff



Its OK to joke yourself, but you shouldn't joke other people.
Like the time I took a bite out of Joanna Rodriguez's sandwich in the LD Bell lunchroom and put it back in her bag. It was supposed to be a mystery, a secret, like a funny (haha) who-done-it. She would open her bag and see the big bite out of it and smile, and say "Who is the comic genius that took a bite out of my sandwich." I would fess up, and I would be completely endeared to her (even though we had not been formally introduced) saying "Oh how clever you are!" But it wasn’t a secret for long because of my overbite, and the peanut butter and jelly on the corners of my mouth. That was a dead give-away. It wasn’t funny either, haha, especially to Joanna who was pissed that some asshole with an overbite had secretly taken a bite out of her sandwich her mama had packed for her. Right there in the lunchroom, while she went to get her milk.
What was the country coming to, that you couldn’t set your lunch down for not even a minute?
In my minds eye I can still see Joanna, as I'm sure you must be seeing her as well, disgusted and fuming, unceremoniously stuffing the sandwich back into the bag, marching to the trash can and slam dunking it, madder'n Charles Barkley.
And it wasn’t funny to me, now suddenly being absolutely horrified at the realization of what I had done, and the fact that it wasn't a secret, or the least bit funny-- which is what I was shooting for, haha-- at all. No sir, it wasn’t funny at all.
Addendum:
This story came up during an online recovery zoom meeting today. The topic was the masks that we wear and our true selves. I shared that even on a good day when I seem confident, polite, courageous, smart, friendly, funny, well spoken, urbane, and on the odd occasion, sophisticated, that deep down I'm like an awkward little boy that just wants attention, approval, and acceptance. And I'm afraid that I won't get it.
I think about this story often.
Sometimes you think maybe you're misunderstood. But you're not misunderstood, you're just doing stupid stuff. Fifty years later I still have to remind myself not to take a bite out of other people's sandwiches in order to get attention, and live in a certain amount of fear that I will have a momentary lapse of reason and resort to such tactics.
I get a lot of mileage out of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich don't I?