Charlotte, NC

Let’s see … in about … ohhhh, I’d say 24 hours (from the time I typed this, anyway), we’ll be done with this year. FINALLY! COMPLETELY!! ABSOLUTELY!! IRREVOCABLY!! FOREV… oh … ahem!(heh-heh!) … guess I sorta got, ummm, carried away there! Let’s move on …

One of my best memories of NYE occurred back in 1984. While I was still hammerin’ out the script to the Superock! rockumentary, I was pickin’ up some extra green doin’ the graveyard shift at the A&P on South Boulevard in Charlotte. Now, since it was New Years’ Eve, the boss let us take an hour-long break to see the ‘85 come in. At 11:30 PM, I took off for a nearby neighborhood with a… well, a “prop” I’d brought with me. A friend of mine lived there, and, each year, he brought out his .22 and shot into the air when the clock struck “twelve”.
This time, though, he was in for a … wellll, a little “surprise.”

11:50 PM — I parked the Furry Fury about a block from his house and nearly tip-toed to the position I planned: right, front, next to the corner of the house, away from the bedroom window. He always came out the back door, poised himself against the back corner, same position, and fired.

11:59:30 PM — I heard the back-door close and the shuffling as he went down the steps. This was it; I put my little “prop” into position. As soon as I heard the gun fire, I quickly leaned back and threw the prop over the roof, so it’d come down almost in front of him.

The prop? A rubber chicken! He screamed something with the initials “WTF?”, and ran around the side of the house where I was … with chicken in one hand, the .22 in the other, and a noticeable wet spot in the front of his pants!

I learned something that night. Never play a joke like that on a half-drunk dude with a .22 in his hands. Fortunately, he had a fairly decent sense of humor (I found that out after the “police” came into the store that New Year’s morning and “arrested” me. As they took me away in an unmarked car, I asked what it was all about. They took me to a gay club [I'm NOT gay, btw! Nothing against them; follow the story ...] and deposited me on the front lot, where my friend was standing … with a camera!).

Aftermath: We got a kick outta those photos he took, although a few nights later, they were suddenly … er, “missing” … for some reason (no, he ain’t gonna get ‘em back, either!). He, on the other hand, no longer eats chicken.

Oh, well … Hey, listen — Part II of this will be coming up within the next twenty hours, so stay tuned …

Lemme tell ya … travelin’ from the warm down-home of Crown Town to the cold, steel-rimmed air of Ashland (remember? I do the wrestling shows up there …) can be downright scary at times.

Especially during this winter (well, officially, during the weekend) weather. I left the Appalachian Tall Timbers after getting the promos set up to hit the road for the ride home, and everything went well … until I hit …

FANCY GAP!!

(or should that read: Fancy GULP!!?)

And, with the road slip-slidin’ away underneath me at times (and, friends, no matter whatcha hear, at times there are no guard rails between you and meeting God on part of that downward-spiral from the mountain!)

Of course, leave it to the Relic to tempt fate: In front my old 1937 BoltBucket (actually, the Turbulent Tercel) was a biiiiiiiiig rig (I think it was carryin’ the state of Georgia in it) … and he was smokin’ (no, not Jim Carrey “ssssmokin’”; I mean his back tires …). Soooooooo … y’know what I did, right??

Yup. Went around him as fast as I could without spinnin’ out and goin’ to glory over the left side! No one was in front of him for a half-mile, it seemed … and I thought I was home-free.
At least until I saw him turn frantically for one of those run-offs they have for truckers who are goin’ too fast. See, they go uphill on the right, and they’re meant to stop the semis whose … brakes … have … gone … out!

And that meant that, if he hadn’t stopped, there’d be some superspeed free-wheelin’ to the bottom of the mountain .. with me in his path! And guess who’s Toyota would’ve just become a squished “Toy” — or which blogger was gonna turn into ground Chuck — if that’d happened?? Suddenly, Carrie Underwood’s Jesus, Take The Wheel came to mind … but my thoughts were on that famous, often-repeated slogan that millions of commuting drivers use:

“Where’s-the-next-exit-I-gotta-GO!!!”

Thank goodness that the Good Lord, in His infinite wisdom, created Wytheville, Va. They have loads of bathrooms there … and great deals on toilet paper!

Now, I toldja that to say this: Whenever you’re on the roads this season (especially!), please be careful on the roads, and make it home safely. Don’t get out in yer vehicle and expect everything to be 100% smooth and water-proof! Especially you folks who are drivin’ in from Hawaii. You can make it to yer destination a lot easier if you concentrate, watch out for the other guy, and — for Pete’s sake — stay off the cells until ya git to a rest-stop! Look … already in the USofA there are hundreds who’ll be Christmasing in Heaven because they or someone else lost control of their vehicles or didn’t watch where they were goin’ and ended up meeting in a tragic way.

Don’t be one of ‘em! Be sure to drive defensively and carefully — and you’ll be inside for the Yuletide and present for the presents come the Big Day, okay?

As you probably know by now, I do a lot of traveling in my work. One of the latest commutes has been the back-and-forth to Ashland, Kentucky, where I publish a newspaper, promote and announce for Ohio Championship Wrestling.

Now, traveling isn’t so bad … during normal times. But, when it comes to a busy holiday season, going past towns like Charleston (WV), Wytheville (VA) and Winston-Salem requires a bit of skilled driving! And a prayer or two doesn’t hurt, either…

Drivers come out of nowhere to get back home with presents, trees or whatever. Add slick roads to all that (in some places), and you’ve got a very tricky situation! Now there are some nice spots to stop along the way, whether to eat or just relax (or get gas … or pay tolls … or …). Invariably, when asked where I’m from (and I’m a proud Crown Towner!) and I tell them, the response is “Is xxx still xxx down there?” or “I have a (relative) who lives there!” It’s a good feeling.

Whenever you hit the road goin’ that way, though, you’ve gotta negotiate … FANCY GAP! Now, if you’ve never been over those winding roads comin’ back home, you’re missing a drama! Keeping the car on the road and not going over the rail-less mountainside, getting a lane away from speeding trucks (their brakes might’ve given out … ya can’t tell), and wondering how to “de-pop” your ears keeps you totally alert.

It’s so important to watch how you drive this season, though — whether you’re in the Gap or on Queens Road in town. I remember, a few years back, WSOC interviewed a guy with the highway department and asked for pointers on safe driving (it was snowing at the time). He honestly said to “drive offensively” and, if caught skidding, turn your wheels opposite the direction of the skid! Believe me, we had a load of confused drivers that season (you … do … know what to do in those situations, right?).

The one thing that I enjoy most, though, when I’m coming home is that magnificent uptown skyline! When I see that, I know everything’s gonna be all right!

Let’s make this the safest Christmas on record, Charlotte! Are ya up to the challenge??

Okay … it’s a little over a month before the big guy slides down the chimney with a bag approved by Homeland Security to bring toys not on the recall list to all boys and girls (the ACLU got the “good” thrown out in a Supreme Court Ruling).
Anyway, to get a jump on things, lemme present the classic …

THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS (skeptic’s version)

(NOTE: These remarks are, in no way, a reflection of this writer’s feelings. As far as I know.)

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

(so they have MICE in their house. Highly unsanitary)
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

(they don’t have a working washer-dryer)

In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

(fervent Catholics? Maybe the washer repairman?)
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
(doesn’t their school teach sex education?? Most think about their DATES, man! Geez …)
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap,

(Sure. Man and woman, kids in bed, naked except for kerchief and cap. To sleep. Uh-huh …)
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

(Probably just a stray dog. Why be so PARANOID?? Oh … that’s right: They’re, uh, “SLEEPing”!)
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

(Well, if he hadn’t eaten the sash to begin with … poor nutrition habits!)
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
(Now, why “breast”? Why not “scene” or “scape”? Sounds sexist to me!)
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,

(THIS is one for PETA; pulling a fat-assed dude, bag and stuff [see next lines] … and they’re tiny?)
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

(Yeah … right. “Little old” drivers are rarely “lively and quick”. Check the freeway yourself …)
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

(Rats. I was pullin’ for the washer repairman!)
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,

(what’s a COURSER?)
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

(DAMN! He’s gonna wake up the KIDS, who are dreaming of sugar plums …)
Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen!

(”now” WHAT?!?)
On, Comet! On Cupid! On, Donder and Blitzen!

(”ON” what??)
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!

(Now, WHY the hell didn’t he use the DRIVEWAY like everyone ELSE?)
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!

(Dash away all of what? That bearded bozo better leave my stuff alone and get to fixin’ that washin’ machine!)
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

(Hel-LOOO! Doesn’t this guy rake his LAWN?! And, dude, it’s snowing! How’dya know if there ARE leaves??)
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,

(can anyone explain this line?)
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.

(sounds like ol’ SC was an afterthought!)

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

(DAMN! They’re gonna wake the kids, I tell ya!)

As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,

(was he drawin’ it back to BUST Santa for makin’ that racket?)
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

(waitaminnit. Isn’t that “entering without breaking”? And why was he carrying a “bound”?)
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;

(Awwww, CRAP! There goes the clean CARPET!)
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

(It’s late … strange dude looks like a peddler, breaking in through chimney … yep: five to ten at San Quentin at least!)
His eyes — how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

(WHOA! Sounds like daddy was gettin’ turned ON by the dude in red!)
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,

(it STILL sounds like he was gettin’ turned on …)
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;

(DAMN, he was gettin’ excited!)

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

(like HELL he didn’t … Linda Blair did the same thing in “Exorcist”!)

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,

(And what, pray tell, was the “jerk” doing with him? When’d HE come into the picture?)

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

(HE’S GONNA BLOW A LUGIE!! HE’S A REDNECK! I KNEW IT!!)
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

(oh …)
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

(hmph — earlier he called their names to get ‘em to move. Now he just whistles for ‘em?)
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

(what the heck?? Since when does a thistle have DOWN??)
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”

(DAMN!! HE WOKE UP THE KIDS WITH ALL THAT CLATTER! NOW THE OWNER’S GOT

• A CHIMNEY TO CLEAN
• SOOTY FOOTPRINTS TO VACUUM
• LYSOL TO SPRAY, TO GET THAT DAMNED PIPE SMOKE OUTTA THE ROOM
• THE KIDS TO CALM DOWN and get back to (ahem!) “sugarplum-land”.
• AN UNSATISFIED NEARLY-NEKKID WIFE WHO DOESN’T KNOW HE WAS MAKIN’ EYES AT SANTA …
• A POSSIBLE POLICE REPORT TO FILE

EDITOR’S NOTE: So, here, we have the tragic story of an impoverished, fairly uneducated family who lives in unsanitary conditions. Then, one night, upon lying down after a questionable meal, the man of the house comes face-to-face with an intruder. The perp made his way into the house in unconventional fashion, and proceeds to make a mess. Strangely, the man becomes attracted to him … and doesn’t stop him or his accomplice (aka “a jerk”) from their crime.

Pity, isn’t it??

Awww, the heck with it … MERPYSONS CHRISTOLIDAYTINGS! (Well, it’s now 2007, and we’ve gotta be careful with our greeting, kids … so I”ve combined them all into one!)

Been on the road, tryin’ to get back home. Yep, it’s gettin’ cold everywhere. ‘Course, we know what to do in the event of frozen frontdoors, right? Uh-huh … snuggle! Welllll, that and maybe some electric heat would be good …

Actually, the best things to do as it gets c-o-l-d-e-r is to make sure you’ve got insulation around the windows, the heating system’s in good order, and that you’re well stocked in the fridge and with supplies. Y’see, the more ya go out that door, the more you’re defeatin’ the heating system.
Oh … one more thing: Be sure to keep your attitude in control, okay? Don’t let your temper flare up — it’ll wear down your physical defenses, and you’ll feel a lot more vulnerable to the chill.

Now … on to other things:

It’s a bit ironic that, just as Dunkin’ Donuts is making a media push for its famous coffee (and, friends, ya gotta buy a bag or two! It’s delicious!), the shop up there on N. Graham was robbed. Just glad no one got hurt. If you’re ever “held up,” the logical rule-of-thumb is to give the robber what they want, and then they’ll most likely run like &#@! to get outta there. Human life is always more important than money!
But one of the craziest … no, make that two … robberies I’ve ever heard of took place up there where I’m doing my gigs for Ohio Championship Wrestling — the town of Ashland, Kentucky. Now, the folks in that little bitty city are as fine as can be … but it’s like us: it has its share of odd! You’ve probably heard about their “Duct-Tape Bandit,” where a guy held up a liquor store (for a few rolls of quarters), and a “disguise” made by wrapping his head in duct tape!
Well, here’s another, freshly-made on Tuesday: A dude went into a local ice-cream store there, and held them up … with … a … common … stapler! Right. Stapler. No word on the caliber of stapler he used, or whether it was loaded. But … a true story, nonetheless.

That’s reason #204 why it’s good to be back home … if I want insanity, I’ll have it in my own back yard, thank you!

Awwww, wouldn’tja know it?? Just as we’re coming to grips with this “spring forward, fall back” thing, they spring an election on us.

Now, you know the Relic can’t give ya any hints on who to vote for — just be sure to get it down Pat … er, pat … when ya do. But, whether in it’s in Charlotte or Pineville (a great race for mayor there, by George … but, ummmm, I’m not recommending anyone … er, right?? If your pick for Town Council wins, you’ll probably be a Gladden to hear it but, I … I’m not … recommending anyone … ?!?), make your vote count by … well, by going out and VOTING! Then you can go to McCrory … er, McDonald’s and have a cup of celebration coffee!
But I can give props for the school board issue. Hey … anything that’ll help our kids is worth it, right??

Okay, on to something else: Lemme see a show of hands here … how many of you have PayPal accounts?? Then, tell me: Have ya gotten an email lately, claiming that they haveta check your account “due to third party access” or something? You know … they have some kinda link you’re supposed to click on to straighten out the “mess”.
Listen … DON’T CLICK IT! Instead, “roll over” the link with your mouse (no, I mean your computer mouse, Robin! Leave “Scruffy” alone …) and, at the same time, look in the lower-left corner of your screen. You’ll see that the link actually leads to another site instead of PenPal. Yup … it’s a scam, designed to get your PayPal info!! But … if ya wanna make sure, just go to your real PayPal account and see if it runs okay. (Oh … and remember that any communication from PayPal comes straight from its page, and that’s gonna start with “https:” for security’s sake (it’s called a “secure socket layer”, and is nearly impenetrable!). And the word “PayPal” is not hyphenated, either …).

Folks, we’ve gotta be serious for a minute: The Charlotte Observer is reporting an increase in child abuse around the QC area. Look … I don’t care who you are; if you abuse a child, you’re a freakin’ criminal and lower than a snail’s belly at the bottom of the deepest part of the Catawba. No one … and I mean NO ONE … has the right to harm even a hair of our kids. They’re the essence of innocence, honesty and warmth … and they’re the only future the Queen City has!. Hey … Somebody thought you were worthy to have a child of your own, and that kid looks up to you for guidance, love and understanding. Don’t BLOW it by hurting that young-un! And if you know a child who’s being abused, it’s your duty to report him to the police or Social Services. Don’t let even one more kid be hurt, people!

Oh … for you who’ve asked: The wrestling gig went well, thanks. Honestly, the promotion I announced for (although in Kentucky) was very reminiscent of the old Mid-Atlantic Wrestling. Totally family-friendly and with some of the best workers I’ve seen since my first gigs in Charlotte yearrrrrrrrs ago, Ohio Championship Wrestling is a name you’ll be hearing more and more of in months (and years) to come!! It was a total blast with a nearly sold-out crowd at the Ashland (KY) Armory!

See ya tomorrow …

Ahhhh, the little twitch-in-time that bears the initials “DST”.
‘Course, the big question is: DIDJA?? (Actually, “spring forward, fall back” is more the way I walked as a kid … but that’s a different story) Most folks did, but if ya didn’t, it’s no big deal …

I remember, back-in-the-day, when I’d get up around ten-thirty in the A. M. on that designated Sunday morning, rush to get the kids ready for the morning service at Stough Memorial (God bless Quaker Quick Grits! Saved many a breakfast …), get the 1980-81 BoltBucket warmed up (hey … don’t blame me! The spare parts of my old rattletraps came together pretty darned good — duct-tape does wonders, doesn’t it?? — and head on down Polk Street at a blazing .5 MPH until …

It’d been a long time since we’d been to Sunday School … but we made it that time!!

Actually, there is something serious to talk about here: Within the week, some of you might feel kinda blah — you know … like your last meal was a dirty sock or something? You might even find yourself goin’ from third-gear down to “grandmaw” in just a few hours. The reason? It’s because we’ve gotta adjust one more clock … that of our metabolism (ie, our innards)!

Y’see, our insides have an understanding with our outsides. If it even looks like goin’ home time, then, darn it, it’s goin’ home time! And our bodies get ready for the release, the traffic, the shower/feeding/news-time. Let something (like DST) throw a monkey-wrench in our plans, though, and the body rebels a bit. Same thing happens at bedtime, gettin’-up-to-face-the-daily-grind — and, then, after you kiss him/her goodbye, the job — and at other times of the day.

Farmers have it worse. Cows can become udder failures if you’re an hour early. Chickens … well, they’re still “laying around,” so you’re safe. Your cat’s still nipped, your pup’s pooped, and your horse may be a bit hoarse at that hour!

So make sure your clocks are set right! Do it now, and avoid the rush! For you kids who’ve already missed your bus or dads whose bosses have docked ya for being late and sent ya back home — now’s your chance to bond! Take the kids to school, and be ready for a great day tomorrow!

Me?? I’m headin’ back to bed …

Okay … better late than never, right??

Actually, the reason the Relic’s late for this episode is that … well, ya know the wall socket you plug yer PC into?? (Yeah, even if you’ve got a surge-protector!) Unfortunately, mine decided it didn’t wanna carry the load anymore and sorta … spit at me when I tried unpluggin’ my MegaMess ‘89 (v. CCXIV).

Sooooo, I took the BigBlackBox, monitor, microphone (okay … tin cans, then!), speakers, peeboard (so sue me … I’ve got cats!), mouse (”cliquer”), and cookies over to the next room. (No, COOKIES! Chocolate chip. Love to munch on ‘em!)

Plugged that sucker into the outlet, and … and …

(geez … where’s that little hamster when ya need him?? When the AC outlet was installed in my house, I fired the dude. His wheel coulda saved me!) anyway, no juice. Or power.

Got the electrician out to check it out, shake his head, pray, and write me one of those neat little bills for a little less than the cost of my house. Maybe he’ll also fix the problem. If he does, I’ll pay his bill … and find out how well he does with cats!

Anyway, I said all that to say this: With Christmas just around the proverbial corner, there are gonna be a load of lights, plenty of purties, and mounds of mistletoe everywhere! Just make sure you check yer outlets, your wiring, and be TOTALLY safety-conscious AND logical when you run those things!

Over the past years, we’ve heard news reports of folks whose houses have bitten the dust in a fiery rage … and all due to faulty wiring or overloaded circuits. Don’t let it happen to any of YOU this season! Make it a safe holiday season, okay??

Now … I’ve gotta see if I can still … remember … how … to … handwrite! Anybody got a pencil??

These are updates and observations on stories I’ve run as well as a bit of new material:

• I’ve been informed that the topic about downtown Pineville’s historic preservation has been shelved until their November town hall meeting. This is an important one, folks … so, if you live in the “biggest small town in America” — or even just shop there — be sure to make it, okay?
• The ice extravaganza, High School Musical, will be at the Bobcats Arena this Saturday with shows at 11 AM, 3 PM and 7 PM, then on Sunday with performances at 11 AM and 3 PM. If you’ve seen the movie, you’ll love this rendition (it’s worth the price to see Ms . Darbus — the flamboyant drama teacher — on ice!). Tix range from $18 to $60.
• Did you know that Harding Academy is being used as a model by other schools that are reaching for higher academic standards? ‘Tis true! It’s quite a change from Harding’s rep back-in-the-day (see earlier post).
• Somebody emailed me and asked if I thought my daddy’s “whuppin’” us when we were kids (see Turkey Farm post) constituted abuse. No — in fact, if young’uns were given “switchin’ time” for their “crimes” at a young age, they wouldn’t be doin’ “hard time” for crimes today!
• A couple of emails have arrived concerning the abuse post I ran. Wanna know the signs that signal an abusive relationship? Click this link and especially this one (more detailed). Then make copies of them for study. An important fact here: Do NOT stay with an abusive partner! It only gets WORSE over time!

I’ve also had the distinct pleasure to meet some folks with great blogs (like Deb from We Heart Cats, which you’ll find in my blogroll to your right. If you like adorable whiskerlickers, you’ll really enjoy her blog! And Angela Betts, whose BabyBoomer blog is fantastic for anyone … but especially we who were born after WW II). And a great honor was re-acquainting myself with my eighth-grade math and science teacher, Mr. Mills. Presently one of Pineville’s esteemed councilmen, he was the best teacher Pineville School had back-in-the-day.

Okay … it’s time to cut this rascal off for now, but I’ll be back tomorrow with more. Stay tuned …

One of my most pleasant times when I was a teen was going to the old K-Mart™ on Archdale Drive in Charlotte (Starmount Shopping Center) every Saturday afternoon. My brothers and I had a ball at that old store … and Daddy and Mama loved the prices!
You know, the old “aroma” of that store (sort of like the old-timey dime store in Pineville) never left me; you can find something like it in the air at some of the Big Lots stores of today. Still, as they say, it’s often imitated, but never duplicated. The first “big” thing my folks bought me there (outside the required clothing) was a transistor radio like the one you see in the photo at the top (the only difference was that mine was black).
But the records were what I was interested in. A budding guitarist with sights on making my new rock act work, I dug Beatles, Del Shannon, Troggs, Kinks … anything rockin’ that had a vowel or consonant starting its name!
It was also there that I found my first girlfriend … well, for fifteen minutes, anyway (her parents had to leave, and I … well, I forgot to get her name!). My brothers found a way to completely embarrass my Dad once with a practical joke that was all good clean fun (until we got back home and realized it wasn’t funny to our backside!) And it was where I had my first “promo” picture done with co-singer Don Prasse (to the left of the old building).
The people were always friendly, the prices very courteous to Daddy’s wallet, and the choices would make Wal-Mart blush! In a day of computerized check-out lines (some “do-it-yourself”) and employees too busy to help you with even the slightest choices, a place like that — I mean, the way it was back then — is sorely missed!
Today’s stores can learn a lot from K-Mart™ of old …

SHOPPING CARTS

Of course, one of the fun part of the trip was the “clink-clank” of the old metal shopping carts. Once you filled up, you headed for the checkout and … the goodies were yours!
In today’s internet shopping, there’s still a need for shopping carts if you’re going to get a sale. Unfortunately, a lot of new web-based businesses don’t know how to include them on their sites … and leave prospective shoppers hanging, as such, with merchandise they don’t know how to finally buy!
Well, there’s a very thorough and successful way to add shopping cart software to your site! Whether you’re selling arrangements of flowers, things for your rooms, clocks that tick hours, or really nice perfumes, you can be sure of getting the sales closed with the e-commerce software from Ashop Commerce. They’ll be with you every step of the way in getting your business off-the-ground, saleswise, and your merchandise in the hands of some very happy customers!
And you’ll be pleased with the support you get from them! With the cost being budget-friendly, the service totally thorough, their software 100% reliable — and the fact that they’re integrated with major banks and, of course, PayPal for the most worry-free transactions — you’ll soon see why more and more new businesses are turning to Ashop! And here’s a BIG plus: they have that all-important SSL (secure-socket layer) protection to assure your customers that their purchase info isn’t going to be found anywhere else on the web (this, of course, is to protect your information)! So click on that link up there now … and you’ll start enjoying the benefits (and your sales!) before you know it!

Sometimes, just the rustle of leaves can bring back memories …
I remember back, years ago, there was an old stretch of woods out by Dorman Rd. (just south of Pineville) — actually, we all called it “Turkey Farm Road” for some reason. Daddy used to take me and my brothers there on Sunday afternoons to enjoy the natural beauty, tall trees, and … well, just the peace of it all.
Or … or maybe it was just to get out of mama’s hair while she cleaned up after Sunday dinner. I dunno …
Anyway, there was a Sunday afternoon in September of 1963 in particular that stands out in my mind, and brought new meaning to the word “whuppin’”! Let me explain:
Steve, Dick and I were all Army buffs back then … anything with a helmet and rifle was awesome to us (remember: though I already played a little guitar and harmonica, the Beatles hadn’t hit our shores yet!). Well, awhile earlier, we’d talked Daddy into getting us some “Army” walkie-talkies at K-Mart on South Boulevard, and we took those with us — just in case we became separated or something.
When we got out of his Hinson Pump Co. van (by the way, there’s someone in Derita who’s using that name for his business. Listen … please honor the man who created the first HPC, and keep it clean, okay?) and took off to the woods.
First, we encountered the legendary “Indian Burial Grounds”, and talked about it between ourselves, using our radios (who cares if we were only about three feet apart? The feedback alone let Daddy know where we were!). Then we went a little deeper into the woods, just to check it out.
And deeper …
and deeper …
Yep. We were more lost than an atheist at a Pentecostal tent revival! My brother Dick shinnied up a tree to see if we could find our way out (actually, I tried to tell him to look for the break line … where the trees thinned out a bit with none behind ‘em. But he’d perfected a trick later adopted by ex-wives everywhere: He didn’t listen to me).
Soon, though, he gave in and we started heading in the right direction … to a point where we could hear Daddy …
who’d not only been frantically calling for us, but also had gotten radioed Uncle Cull and Pineville Police Chief Tom Rogers to gather a search party for us! And had also CB’ed Mama, who was at her wits’ end in worry.
Well, we finally made it out. He came up to us and, in a voice that coulda raised those Indians, commanded, “Go get in the truck”.
We piled in, knowing what was gonna happen when we got back! Not a word was said to us; he only got on the CB and let everybody know he’d found us.
Back at the house, we’d started to open the passenger door when he said, “Wait a minute. Let me get to that side. You boys know what’s coming!” Dick got out first … and, after his tail-burnin’ came me! I don’t think I sat down again until 1968! Steve — always the crafty one — tried to sneak out the driver side, but with no success. Daddy “headed him off at the pass.” To this day, I think he got off easier ’cause he was the youngest (only 9 … ’sides, it was close to his birthday!).

Today, we hear of kids runnin’ wild on the streets, staying out ’til all hours, gettin’ into trouble. Sadly, some are hurt, kidnapped or worse, and parents become frantically worried.
Police are called, circulars are put out, Amber Alerts are posted … but not all come back safely.

I submit that if more dads would be like mine (the late C. E. “Eola” Hinson), they’d have a better chance of keeping their kids safe …
even though the young’un’s fannies might be a little worn out in the process …