Archives for March 2015

Back Home Again In Indiana

March 26, 2015 By Larry Adamson Leave a Comment

Larry Adamson and Mike Chumley

Just some thoughts:

Back Home Again In Indiana

I sure wish such. It has been a long time since I’ve played anything by Les Paul and Mary Ford. So I slipped in a cd of their’s and a very appropriate song for the time and the mood of this evening came on. The song was “Back Home Again In Indiana.” The second song to play only further accented my thoughts; it was the 1940’s hit “Sentimental Journey.”

“Gonna take a sentimental journey, gonna set my heart at ease, Gonna take a sentimental journey to re-new old memories.”

Mike, Barbara, and Larry 1964

You see, tonight my mind is back in Indiana, and yes, I am thinking of old memories. Earlier today my good friend of over sixty years, Mike Chumley, passed away here in Franklin. Home, in a sense, was Indiana for both Mike and me. Both of us physically returned there for visits, but we very, very often returned there mentally reminiscing about old times. Maybe a part of both of us still remains there.

Mike and I first met when the two of us were about ten years old. Our families both attended the same church in our home town in Terre Haute, Indiana. When Mike and I were fifteen years old we spent a week together in a tent at church camp; yes, in a tent. For those of you who knew Mike can you imagine a week in a tent with him? From that week forward our friendship grew and has continued to this very day.

Cohort, 1963

Mike always called me “Cohort.” I can not remember him referring to me by my given name. That prompted me to look up the word Cohort. Webster defines “Cohort” as “A group of people supporting the same thing or the same person.” Quite fitting as over the years I always felt his support and friendship. C.S. Lewis once said “Of all the means to ensure happiness through the whole of one’s life, by far the most important is the acquisition of friends.”

Over the years Mike brought a lot of happiness to those of us who knew him. While tonight I am sad, just the mention of his name will forever make me smile. I guess when you’re a kid you are always thinking forward, but when you strike a certain age you sometimes think backwards. Well, over the years Mike and I did a lot of both.

This past January my wife and I were going to be in Florida for a few weeks and I would not see or visit Mike on a regular basis as I usually did, so I wrote him a letter. Even though I would be away from him I wanted him to know that I was thinking of him and missing our sit-down visits. In the letter I told him I would find it hard to call anyone my very best friend, as I have been so fortunate to have so many good friends over the years. But I did tell him that I had never had a better friend than him.

Larry and Mike, 1997

“Eternal Friendships”

No friend we love can ever die;
The outward form but disappears.
I know that all my friends are nigh
Whenever I am moved to tears,
And when my strength and hope are gone,
The friends, no more, that once I knew
Return to cheer and urge me on
Just as they always used to do
They whisper to me in the dark
Kind words of counsel and of cheer;
When hope has flickered to a spark
I feel their gentle spirits near,
And oh, because of them I strive
With all the strength that I can call
To keep their friendship still alive
And be worthy of them all.
Death does not end our friendship true;
We all are debtors to the dead;
There, wait on everything we do
The splendid souls who’ve gone ahead.
To them I hold that we are bound
By double pledges to be fine,
Who once has had a friend has found
The link between mortal and divine.

Our friend, my friend, Cohort, you will be greatly missed.

March 25, 2015
Keep on,
Larry Adamson

Ray

March 25, 2015 By Larry Adamson Leave a Comment

Just some thoughts:

“What’s a white boy like you doin’ here?”

I was once asked that question by a fella I was sitting next to at a Ray Charles concert in 1962.

I did take note of the fact that my date, a pretty and petite blonde, and I were very much in the racial minority among those who were gathered there that night. It was well worth the price of the tickets, if for nothing more than to hear Brother Ray and see the Raelettes close the show with about a fifteen minute rendition of “What’d I Say.” Note I said, “See the Raelettes.”

Recently I watched the movie, “Ray,” starring Jamie Fox as Ray Charles. Fox is outstanding in his performance as Ray Charles. It’s a good story, but even more impressive is Fox’s performance.

Do yourself a favor. Pick up a cd of Ray Charles and Bonnie Raitt doing the song, “Do I Ever Cross Your Mind.” If you haven’t been in a recent state of depression that song may help provide you a road to such or at least with a window.

You know, most folks just sing a song, but there are a few that “deliver” a song. Charles and Raitt have a lot of postage stamped on this effort.

Bonnie Raitt and Ray Charles

“Do I Ever Cross Your Mind”

Do I ever cross your mind, darlin’ do you ever see
some situation somewhere, somehow triggers your memory
and do you ever wonder what became of all the time
and darlin’do I ever, ever cross your mind

Do I ever cross your mind uninvited when you’re lonely
or does that only, only happen to me,
and don’t you ever wonder what became
of all the time and darlin’ do I ever, ever cross your mind

“Do I ever cross your mind?” Now that is an interesting thought.

Have you ever wondered or wanted to ask that question?

May 18, 2011
Keep on,
Larry Adamson

I Did Not See Me Do Dat!

March 23, 2015 By Larry Adamson Leave a Comment

Just some thoughts:

“He who is not very strong in memory should not meddle with lying.”
– (Michel deMontaigne—1533-1592)

Cousins – Delaney age 2, Luke age 3 in 2008

2010- Delaney age 4, Luke age 5

This past February my wife and I spent the month in Florida. During that time, all three of our children and five of our six grandchildren visited us there.

One of the bedrooms with bunk beds was the designated room for the children to play. One stipulation while playing in that room was don’t shut or lock the door. OK, you are ahead of me.

Slam goes the door and you hear it being locked. The instructions are now, “Unlock the door.” There’s mostly silence on the other side of the door, but you can begin to hear a little whispering noise. You hear the lock become unlocked and slowly the door opens. Reminded once again of the instructions that were previously given, “Don’t shut and lock the door,” I get about ten feet back toward the living room and slam goes the door again and you can hear the lock engage.

I am back at the door. “Open the door,” and my voice is a little more stern now. The door opens once again. “OK, now, who shut and locked this door?” Two little people peer at you, but neither speaks. “OK, who shut and locked this door?” The two little cousins, four-year-old Luke and three- year-old Delaney, are now looking up at me. I guess they figure it is time to speak. But first, both take a step back hoping for reinforcements, but none appears. The oldest speaks, “I did not shut the door or lock the door. She did.” Oops. I think it’s time to throw someone under the bus. Cousin or no cousin, I can’t take this rap. His plea of innocence has come before the bar. My head then turns to the littlest one, Delaney. She looked at me with those big blue eyes, and brushing back some blond curls, decided to speak. As she speaks in her little dutchy voice, she points at the door, and with her cousin standing next to her, she said to me, “I did not see me do dat!” Perry Mason could not have better prepared or coached one of his clients. Now notice she selected her words very carefully. She did not say that she did not shut and lock the door, she said, “I did not see me do dat.” Sounds like early Bill Clinton influence, a little language manipulation.

About that time I was ready to split my sides laughing. The judge had to quickly leave the courtroom. “OK, you kids don’t shut the door and lock it again. You hear me?”

Delaney age 5, Luke age 6

But you know, as adults, we often don’t want to take responsibility at times and are often heard saying something pretty similar – “I did not see me do dat.” Taking responsibility can be hard and often unpleasant.

March 30, 2010
Keep on,
Larry Adamson

What Would You Do Over?

March 18, 2015 By Larry Adamson Leave a Comment

Just some thoughts:

Sometime ago I was sitting with a group of people talking about the past and our past lives- what we did and what we didn’t do. One in the group threw out the question to all of us, “If you had the opportunity for a do-over, what would you do differently?”

That line brought a smile to most of us. The fella that asked the question smiled at his best friend (they grew up together) who was sitting next to him and said, “Don’t you answer I know what you would do, but don’t say it.”

Later as I drove off I thought about his question. “What would I do differently?” That thought made me smile also. I think I would have:

Asked more questions.
Ask some people I knew, “Is that what you really want to do?”
Asked somebody to teach me to dance.
Cared less about what (some) others thought (not everyone, just certain ones).
Sent more flowers to people I cared about (more than just prom time).

My list could get quite lengthy; I’ll just stop here and think about the rest.

I don’t think I would have been like the one time movie star, Tallulah Bankhead. When she was asked that question, she said:

“If I had to live my life over again, I’d make the same mistakes, only sooner.”

Well I don’t know about the matter of mistakes, but I do wish there were some things I would have done sooner and few things I could do over.

You?

August 15, 2013
Keep on,
Larry Adamson

Intellegence And Wisdom, There Is A Difference

March 16, 2015 By Larry Adamson 3 Comments

Vigo County Courthouse, Indiana

Just some thoughts:

Once there was a small boy, an adopted child. He had known this in various forms pretty much from the time he could understand. Time passed and some uneasiness in the boy appeared to surface. Uneasiness in what he thought could happen to him.

The adopted boy’s father did the following. Early one morning he took the boy to a big building in the town where they lived, the county courthouse, with big statues on the well-mown lawn and high entrances with a lot of steps. Once inside the building, the boy and his dad walked to an office. The father was greeted by a lady who said the judge would be with them shortly.

After a few minutes, the judge came in and shook the father’s hand, and invited the child and his father into his office. The judge called the man by name and they exchanged small chitchat. Turning to the child, the judge said, “I have something to show you.” They went into another room, a room called The Hall of Records. It said so on the door.

“Your dad tells me you’re having some questions, some things you might be worried about. Is that right? He said you are thinking someone might come and take you to live somewhere else?” The judge took a large book from a shelf in the Hall of Records. He opened the book and called the small boy to his side. “Look here,” he said. “You see where people have written their names on these lines? The boy answered, “Yes.” The judge continued, “Well, let me tell you something. Right underneath those names is my name. I signed right there, and you know what that means?” The boy nodded that he didn’t know. The judge went on to explain what it meant. “Everything written here is official and nothing can ever happen to take you from where you now live. My signing means that would not ever happen. I wouldn’t let it. So whatever your dad tells you is so.” With that, the boy’s doubts were erased. The book was returned to the shelf, the father and the judge talked a few minutes more and they left.

The boy has often wondered about that day and what took place. The father had very little formal education– in today’s standards, about an eighth grade education. The boy went on to graduate high school, obtain a bachelor’s, a master’s and a few hours short of a 6th year degree, but I doubt if he ever gained the wisdom his father had shown on that day.

Hopefully we all can recognize the difference in education and wisdom. There certainly is a great difference.

John Adamson

“That best portion of a good man’s life, his little nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love.”

William Wordsworth
(1770-1850)

The father in the story was my adopted father John Adamson and the boy that was me, Larry Adamson. To me it remains an act that will always be remembered. Yes it was an act of love, kindness and also wisdom.

June 17, 2009
Keep on,
Larry Adamson

I Found My Thrill

March 13, 2015 By Larry Adamson Leave a Comment

Just some thoughts:

Sometimes fame and success take time; it may take years. Today, a very recognizable song is “Blueberry Hill.” Most folks associate that song and its time period with the 1950s’.

The song was written in 1940, just before WWII, and was met with very little success. It was recorded by a few big bands of the day, but nothing big happened. In 1956, a fella out of New Orleans made a recording of the song on the Imperial label and sold five million copies. Today, who knows how many copies have been sold. I remember being in a pizza place in Rome, Italy and hearing that song. Another time in Germany, and another time on a ship sailing into the Panama Canal. The song and the artist today are recognized and played all over the world.

I found my thrill on Blueberry Hill
On Blueberry Hill, when I found you
The moon stood still on Blueberry Hill
And lingered until my dream came true

The wind in the willow played love’s sweet melody
But all of those vows you made were never to be

Though we’re apart you’re part of me still
For you were my thrill on Blueberry Hill

The one who made that song famous and such a success was Fats Domino. He has that great piano lead into the song. Today is his birthday, and the fat man turned 85 years old. If you grew up in the mid to late 1950s’, no last names were needed. It was Elvis, Jerry Lee, Little Richard, Chuck, Ricky and Fats … happy birthday, Fats!

Fame can be slow or quick to come and also slow or quick to leave. Fats is still with us, living in New Orleans, Louisiana.

“You’re part of us still, for you were our thrill on Blueberry Hill”

February 26, 2013
Keep on,
Larry Adamson

I Don’t Text

March 7, 2015 By Larry Adamson Leave a Comment

Just some thoughts:

I tell my kids and grandkids, “If you want me, call me. I don’t text.”

Often, I wonder what effect all these electronics will have on us and future generations. Now, before you shake your head and think, “There goes some old guy going off about change,” listen a minute; I think so many of these electronic findings are great. I do have a cell phone and I use it. But like a number of other great discoveries, there can also be a downside.

I identify with what Tom Brokaw recently wrote and said,

“No text message will ever replace the first kiss.
I love you on a tiny screen will never replace that declaration whispered into your ear at the end of a long embrace.
Holding a Blackberry cannot compare with holding hands on a first date or exchanging spoken vows on a wedding day.
I never want to hear a lyric that goes, A tweet is just a tweet as time goes by.”

This past week was our 47th wedding anniversary. Certainly, when we got married in 1965, there were no cell phones, GPS systems, emails, etc, but had there been, I don’t think it would have been a factor in working through those marriage years. If we’re not careful, it is easy to be lulled into a “taking one for granted” pattern. Verbal communication is vital to relationships. Hitting keys on a key pad can be a lot easier than talking to someone, but they can also be a lot less personal. Typing letters is a lot easier than sitting down, looking someone in the eye and trying to resolve a matter.

To quote an old Little Willie John song (he was a 50s’ rock- n- roll performer):

“Talk to me, tell me the things I want to hear in your own special way.”

July 28, 2012
Keep on,
Larry Adamson

Why Should Rocks Be Taken Out Of A River?

March 5, 2015 By Larry Adamson Leave a Comment

Just some thoughts:

Generally I am the first one to see and read our mail.

This past week as I was reading our mail one letter caught my attention. The outside address was that of a limestone company in Effingham, Illinois. When I opened it, it was a bill. I couldn’t figure out why we had a bill from a limestone company.

Then it dawned on me. This past June my ninety-five year old mother-in-law passed away, and my wife made arrangements for a small headstone to be placed at her grave site.

Headstones. Why do we have headstones? To me, there are a lot of reasons why.

A onetime leader of the Jewish nation knew the importance of “Rocks and Headstones.” He once instructed some of his people to go into the bed of a river and take twelve stones and place them along the side of that river. He told them that someday when their children pass that way and ask what happened here? “Why these rocks?” Then they can tell “the story.”

“In the future when your descendants ask their fathers what these stones mean they can be told of what once happened here.”

I am glad I live in a nation that erects monuments and places headstones. Monuments and headstones help teach our history and remind us of it, whether it is our country’s history or our family’s personal history. Both are vital to the health of a country and a family.

So now there will be a small headstone for my mother-in- law on a hillside grave in a cemetery on the outskirts of Effingham, Illinois, next to her husband. Not that this one would be forgotten, but now there will be a marking of her life for her family to visually see and remember how important and influential she was to her family.

There are many things of great importance in the lives of each of us. They should never go untold or unmarked. Headstones and monuments have their place in our lives.

I hope you have headstones and monuments in yours.

May 8, 2014
Keep on,
Larry Adamson

Seth, Adam & Kyle

March 3, 2015 By Larry Adamson Leave a Comment

Seth and Natalia

Just some thoughts:

Over the past years I have been fortunate to have three young men in my life; my oldest grandson, Seth, my great-nephew Adam and the child of lifelong friends, Kyle.

I often met with them to share meals, ball games, car rides, stories and many other matters; we had early morning talks and late night meetings. Over the years when we’ve been together the subject of their girlfriends would often come up. It was evident that somewhere in our conversations each of them would talk of their feelings for “their significant other.” Generally I would kid them a bit about the special person in their life. I usually had a nickname for each of their girlfriends such as Sweetness, Earth Angel, etc. Their fondness for these sweethearts was evident.

Adam and Erica

Three of them have now graduated college. Kyle and Adam are married; and the third our grandson, Seth, has an upcoming wedding planned for this June in Atlanta, Georgia. All have now moved into the real world.

In all seriousness I want to tell each of them to not let those special moments slip by too quickly or go unnoticed. Today I was playing a Rod Stewart cd in my car. Yes, on occasion I do play something besides old rock-n’-roll. I invite Seth, Adam and Kyle to listen to the lyrics of an old standard, “Someday,” sung by Stewart.

Kyle and Krista

“Someday when I’m awfully low
When the world is cold
I will feel a glow just thinking of you
And the way you look tonight

Yes, you’re lovely with your smile so warm
And your cheeks so soft
There is nothing for me but to love you
And the way you look tonight”

To each of you…I hope the glow is always there and you always know how soft her cheek is.

Thanks guys for letting me be a small part of your lives.

March 4, 2015
Keep on,
Larry Adamson

Seth, Adam & Kyle

March 3, 2015 By Larry Adamson Leave a Comment

Seth and Natalia

Just some thoughts:

Adam and Erica

Kyle and Krista

To each of you…I hope the glow is always there and you always know how soft her cheek is.

Thanks guys for letting me be a small part of your lives.

March 4, 2015
Keep on,
Larry Adamson