Every once in a while I will get into a little email conversation with folks. On this one particular day, I mentioned to this nice person that I was wondering if they were wondering.  It seemed as though that should be in a song somewhere. Then of course, the person I am, I had to send an example of my memory.  I typed out part of the lyrics of a song I used to love to sing to myself. “I was looking back to see if you were looking back to see, If I was looking back to see if you were looking back at me”.  Many times walking up Center street in the early 60’s I would sing this song to myself. I would then switch on over to “Lonely Little Robin”.  The person on the other end of the email conversation decided to send me an updated posting of that song. I am sure this was done because this person is usually a kind person. But holy cow folks, this was an age reminder, a dose of reality. That song came out in “56.  This was the beginning of my living with new technology. You know stuff such as electricity and fresh water from the kitchen faucet. I then had to go back down memory lane and think of other old songs stuck in the memory files. I slipped back to when we had taken a car radio out of the old Studebacker. Or one out of the junked Edsel just so we had music. We would find a good battery, hook the antenna to a bed spring and we were good to go. The best station was WWVA Wheeling West Virginia. Eventually, the battery lost its power so we would then crank up the old Victrola. Now when I say crank up, I really mean wind up the spring with the crank. We could  listen to “Finnegan Is In Again”,  or the “Pussy Cat Rag”, or maybe “Boney Bones”, or “The Bigger the Figure”.    That last song stuck with me for quite some time.  Even now, I find myself rattling off some of those lyrics.  “The bigger the figger, the better I like her. The better I like her, the bigger the figger. The bigger the figger the more I can love.”  Of course, after singing that one, you had to go right into “Boney Bone”.  The skinniest girl around.  We would crank up that old Victrola and listen to those really thick records. When the spring finally broke on the machine, we would spin the records our self. By placing a finger on the middle of the record and spin it to the desired speed. Being the non-conformist I am, I would vary the speed of the record, Sometimes, I would spin it slow, other times too fast. And yes, I would even spin it backwards. It is surprising that some of those songs would even make sense. Now, it isn’t the songs I miss from those days so long ago. I miss more than anything the freedoms we no longer seem to have. Words we are not suppose to use for fear of offending someone. I will admit, this was never a problem with me. You know that fear of offending someone with a word. I even called a very young male “a boy” and I got into big trouble on that one. I keep telling people, “it is not the word, it is what’s in the heart when the word is used. “   More than once, folks have suggested I should clean up my language a bit. Well, when I write these little stories, it is with great self-control they are not inserted once in a while. They do indeed add character to a story. But then, that is me and why I should really stay in the woods.  But you know folks, I asked a priest one day how he prevented himself from swearing.  I knew full well the church goers he had to deal with. And for sure some of them would bring out those words in my conversation. He looked at me and laughed.  “May God bless you”, was his way of expressing his disgust and replaced all those colorful words I so often used. So now, when a priest looks at me and says that, I guess I can respond with words my Dad taught me.   So folks, “May God bless you and grant you a most blessed New Year.”     It is what’s in the heart people, and laughter is a great tonic.    Ken White  COB mountainman

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