Archives for August 2016

LA
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Just some thoughts:

I like Willie Nelson.

Sometimes I feel like ol’ Willie picks out a song just for me.

Last week I went back home to southwestern Indiana for my 50th high school class reunion, class of 1960. My home growing up area is just a speck, like a flea, about nine miles south of Terre Haute, Indiana. It was a very small high school in a very rural setting. We had twenty-seven in our class, and I think twenty-one or twenty-two  of us went through all twelve grades together. The school is no longer in existence; the building is falling down and should be put out of its misery. I also drove into the little town, or what once had been a thriving little village and past my old house.

Rather early this morning while driving back to my home in Franklin, Tennessee I thought of a quote from a Statler Brothers song, “I had time on my hands and memories on my mind.” I slipped in a Willie Nelson cd. A song came on that I identified with much of the lyrics.
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Something I wrote two years ago….I wonder how many times in life this has been repeated?

LA

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Just some thoughts:

​“Hey, I was back home this past week,” he said to one of the fellas sitting at our table this morning.

The two of them had grown up together in this small town in Kentucky. This exchange took place as I sat at a table over morning coffee with these two fellas.

“I went home over Christmas holidays.” The other asked, “How are things back home?” He was told, “Oh, about the same. You know nothing much ever changes back there.” “How’s the basketball team this year?” “Not too bad, we did go to a game while we were there.” This conversation continued for some time pretty much in the same vein. Both these fellas were products of the late 50s’. I identified with much of their conversation having grown up during that time in similar surroundings in Indiana. 

Just before the first fella left, he said to his friend, “I saw ____ while I was back home, ran into her at the ballgame. She has a grandson who is playing, and her youngest granddaughter is a cheerleader.” His friend’s face changed. He paused a moment, looked down at his coffee and then asked his friend, “Did she mention my name? Did she ask about me?”

He asked because they had once been an item in high school and went steady, one of those forever couples. If you are from the 50s’ you get the picture. “Yes, yes she did ask about you,” his friend answered.

I stayed a few minutes more, and then left. As I got into my car I pulled out an old Gordon Lightfoot cassette; the second song that came on pretty well described just what I had witnessed.
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LA
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Just some thoughts:

Have you ever wished “You didn’t know now, what you didn’t know then?” Oh my.

This year was the 20th year for the Vinny. The Vinny is a three day celebrity/professional golf outing put on each year here in Nashville, Tennessee by country music singer Vince Gill. I have worked that event since moving to Nashville in 2002. It is a great time. Over the years with the likes of Palmer, Nicklaus, Miller, Watson and many other PGA tour players coming to play. The golf is great, but the music each night is unbelievable. Following each day’s play Vince and many of his music buddies get together and play for the folks, and I mean, play they do.

This year was just like all the others, special, but even a bit more so for me. After play the second day about halfway through Vince’s music set, he said, “Bob, come on up here and let’s do some stuff together for the folks.” Vince was speaking to none other than Bob Seger. Now, I am a huge fan of Seger’s. If you ever listen to the words of his songs, wow, can he put his finger on the pulse of one’s emotions and feelings. Seger, with practically no words, climbed up on the stage under a huge tent, strapped on a guitar and with four licks into the song, the place about came unglued with “Old Time Rock n Roll.”

“Just take those old records off the shelf; the music ain’t got the same soul.” You would have thought we were all back to the days of Dick Clark and American Bandstand. I kid you not; folks were climbing on the tables and dancin’.

One of his greatest efforts for me is his song, “Running’ Against the Wind.”

LA
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Just some thoughts:

Many times we live off the good reputation of others.  

Some of these thoughts were prompted by a minister as my wife and I sat in his audience while wintering in Florida.

Your name, our name, has a reputation. It was there before we came on the scene, and it will be there long after we leave. The question for us is, “What will we do with it while it is in our possession?”

It would be my first time to see my favorite National League baseball team, the St. Louis Cardinals. My favorite American League team was the Chicago White Sox’s. I loved Nellie Fox of the White Soxs and Stan Musial of the Cardinals. If you wanted the starting line-up for the Cardinals that year, I could probably come up with it. Or at one time I could have. Years have caused a bit of fading. The Cardinal stadium, Sportsman Park, was about one-hundred and fifty miles from where we lived. The game would be a Sunday twilight double header. Oh boy! Two games the same day.

My parents had agreed I could go and the would not be going. Since the game would be played on Sunday the stipulation was as I traveled, “You will need to stop for church.” Ok, my thought was that we will cover that base. As we neared St. Louis my buddy (Mike) and I stopped at a small country church with probably no more than fifty to seventy five in attendance that day. Evidently a practice at that church was to acknowledge and introduce anyone who might be a visitor at the end of services. Mike and I were asked to stand and introduce ourselves and we did. As soon as services were over an older gentleman quickly came to me and asked, “Did you say your last name was Adamson?” “Yes,” I answered. “By chance would you be any relation to…” He then named three people, my grandfather, my uncle and my dad. When I confirmed they were my relatives, his eyes lit up and he gripped my hand and kind of half-hugged me.

He then began to share stories that involved all three of these men and him. “Young man we would be so pleased if you will have lunch with us, come by our house. You can eat quickly and get on your way to the game.” So we did, and over lunch he told me how much these three men had meant to him and told some stories involving each.

At the time I did not give this happening much thought. Later I came to realize that I was on the receiving end of this man’s kindness and hospitality because of the friendship and respect he held for my grandfather, uncle, and dad. Three people who had come before me, and on that day I was living on a reputation that had preceded me.

Every name has a reputation; we make choices that will determine how it is viewed in the future.

LA
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Just some thoughts:

For the third time he was about to run out of money and was ready to call it quits and head home to Texas. But for some reason someone believed in him; not only did he believe in him, but took the time and trouble to let it be known.  

The old pro had seen him play and liked his swing. He knew talent as he was a seasoned veteran on the PGA tour himself. Seeing the man about to give up, he went to him and said, “You have the best swing out here. If money is a problem, and you are about to run out, let me know and I’ll back you; I’ll take care of it.” Those gestures of kindness and words of encouragement were not forgotten. The struggling golf professional gained his confidence, and he never had to seek out such help from his friend. 

Sometime later the one time struggling pro was playing with a young tour player. The young player said of his play, “I was choking like a dog.” In 1955 at the Colonial National Invitational Tournament this young choking pro was handed a scribbled note on a small bit of paper. The note read, “I don’t know what your financial situation is but if you run out of money, don’t quit. This is my unlisted phone number. You call me, and I’ll provide you with money to continue on.” Well, likewise this young professional’s game improved, and he did not need to call out this favor. 

Henry Picard, a twenty-six time winner of the tour made that gesture in support of Ben Hogan. Later Hogan did likewise for another professional golfer named Gardner Dickinson. 

Sometimes receiving encouragement from those who do what you are also trying to do can make a great deal of difference. I think they call that “Playing it forward.” Sometime back  I can remember sitting with a young widow trying to raise three children, carrying the various burdens of life and her saying to me: I don’t expect anyone to take away the issues I face, but it sure would help if I knew someone knew and carried just a little bit about the ones I was facing.” 

You know sometimes it’s not so much the need for help, but the thought that, if needed, it is there. I know I’ve been there on the receiving end of such encouragement.  

You? 

If so, play it forward.
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November 9, 2011
Keep on,
​Larry Adamson

LA
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Just some thoughts:

LA
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Just some thoughts:

Our oldest grandson came by our house the other day, and he had a different look. As he prepares to move from the college years into the real world, his first job, he got a new a haircut; a real honest-to-goodness haircut, one where you can even see his ears. He said he had been to the barber-shop. Let me correct that, he had been to some place I might call one of those girlie hair-cutting places. This generation doesn’t know what a real barbershop is/was and the value it once offered to society, especially small-town society. Now they are called salons and guys with names like Pierre etc, “style” their hair for them.

One of many things this generation of kids is missing is growing up in a small town in the late 50s’, and getting their hair cut at a real barbershop. Most every community of any size had a barbershop. One of my barbers was ol’ Tiny (anything but) Huntwork, and he cut hair in the back of his grocery store in Blackhawk, Indiana. By the way that would be the Blackhawk Chieftians if you were to do basketball battle on a Friday night. 

In a small town barbershop you could get advice, not asked for but freely given, and ball scores. They always listened to the Cub games, as home games were never played at night because they had no lights.  If you saw the movie “Hoosiers” you might remember the scene where the decisions of the basketball coach, Norman Dale were often up for review at the barber shop. From a large plate-glass window, in many shops, you had a full view of the town happenings. Often, there would be a congregation of people at the shop, whether they wanted a haircut or not. 

When one of the local honeys walked or drove by, the word today would be ‘hottie’; you knew a comment was coming. At this particular shop where I used to go I can still remember the classic line someone would say when Sharon, in her ‘59 Chevy convertible, drove by; “How would you like to have a pup from that litter?” When the town rascal roared by on his Harley, handlebars ten feet above his head and cigarettes rolled up in the sleeve of his T-shirt, ol’ Bob would say, “Guys, folks better grab their girls and lock their doors.” The attractiveness of the local and visiting team cheerleaders would always be up for Saturday-morning debate and discussion after the game the night before. One of the local retirees, who spent much of his day in the shop, would often say when there was a discussion about the virtues of one of the opposite sex, “Many a man has fallen in love with a dimple, only to make the mistake of marrying the girl.”

Like many things today, the old barbershop is a thing of the past and not necessarily for the better. My grandson got a haircut, but not with the benefit of barbershop knowledge and wisdom. In those days you always got more than your money’s worth when you went to get a haircut.