Month: December 2021

“You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream.”

—C.S. Lewis, British writer and lay theologian.

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I’ve been told I’m getting old, but I refuse to accept that somewhat opinionated viewpoint. It’s my personal observation I’ve simply accumulated a lot of experience.

Lately however it’s becoming apparent just how much “experience” I really do have. That revelation came last week while performing the traditional “old year-out and new year-in” reflections routine one more time.

Reading a collection of clippings and the bounty of bound volumes in the newspaper library still trying to assemble something into a book gave me cause to smile. To borrow from perhaps the most well-known advertising slogan in history, “We’ve come a long way baby.”

Along with noticing how far my column writing style has come, the experiences I’ve written about offer their own perspective. For instance, reading one recently that I wrote in 1981 clearly noted the changes in both. Ironically, that piece also began as a reflection on being told that I was getting old. 

“Imagine if you will,” it began, “a day in the life of modern man living in the United States.”

“It starts with his subtle awakening to soft music, noting the time in a liquid crystal display, and comes with a feature that allows him the privilege of intermittent lapses back into the sleep state by simply pushing a button.

“As that awakening process begins in the bedroom, an automatic coffee pot in the kitchen with its own timer brews fresh java that is ready before he ever sets foot on the floor.

“After our modern man eats breakfast cooked in seconds in a non-heat-producing oven called a microwave, he heads off to work in a diesel-powered automobile equipped with a “cruise control” that maintains a constant speed without effort. That same vehicle has an onboard computer informing him of his average speed, fuel consumption, and trip duration.

“Once in the office, he makes calls on his desk phone that automatically stores numbers in memory for future use. That same modern telephone takes messages when he cannot answer it and has a button that allows him to speak into the phone without a long cord for holding the handset to be heard from anywhere in the room.

“During the course of a day, he has at his disposal a calculator that will not only add and subtract but also divide and multiply as well. And it fits into a shirt pocket along with a tiny tape recorder for documenting conversations.

“He travels by flying in jet-powered aircraft capable of navigating through any type of weather with the aid of computerized guidance systems using nothing more than needles on the instrument panel.

“While flying, he can read a newspaper produced and printed via photographic processes while the recording device on his television at home will automatically record any of his favorite shows he might be missing.

“Most remarkable is that all the technology described above has been invented in the last 15 years, most of it in 10. We can’t help but wonder what impact the next ten years and beyond will have on our lives.”

If 1981 could only see how far we have come in 2021. Computers that were new in 1981 control every aspect of our lives today, whether we want them to or not. Virtually every necessity and convenience in life is reduced to a single device smaller than the pack of trendy cigarettes the advertising slogan mentioned earlier promoted decades ago.

With those personal reflections, I wish all a happy and prosperous New Year as we await the unveiling of what 2022 has in store. Let’s resolve to set new goals. Accumulate new experiences. Start the new year with optimism. I’ll go first and say that 40 years from now, I’m hoping those comments about my getting old have changed to, “Wow, doesn’t he look good for his age.”

—Leon Aldridge

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Aldridge columns are published in these Texas newspapers: The Center Light and Champion, the Mount Pleasant Tribune,  the Rosenberg Fort Bend Herald, the Taylor Press, and the Alpine Avalanche.

© Leon Aldridge and A Story Worth Telling 2021. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Leon Aldridge and A Story Worth Telling with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

“Christmas is sights, especially the sights of Christmas reflected in the eyes of a child.” 

– William Saroyan (1908 – 1981) Armenian American novelist, playwright, and short-story writer.

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With every washed-out hole in the dirt road, my truck rebelled at the impact, tossing the front end toward one ditch or the other.

The weather outside was cold and rainy. Inside the vehicle, where it was warmer, I gripped the steering wheel in hopes the battle between my truck and the holes in the road wouldn’t jerk it out of my hands. A slower speed might have made the trip less violent, but it wasn’t worth risking getting stuck on the backside of nowhere in the far reaches of the county. In 1986, cell phones were still a part of Christmas future.  

“What are we looking for, daddy,” asked son, Lee, then six, who is 41 as this Christmas approaches.

“A house down here a ways on the right,” I explained. “At least it’s supposed to be around here somewhere.”

“If we can’t find it, maybe Santa Claus can,” he replied with youthful optimism.

“Lee, if Santa Claus could find it,” offered his philosophical sister Robin, then eight, who is now 43, “We probably wouldn’t be hunting for it.”

At last, we found our first destination, a muddy driveway near three small, old, and unpainted houses. Each one had smoke curling from a stovepipe chimney jutting from some random spot. Small sticks of wood were stacked nearby, but the aroma in the air smelled more like burning garbage.

There were no yards. The houses were separated only by broken household items: washing machines, couch frames, bicycles, and a junked automobile or two. Surveying the “neighborhood,” I suddenly feared that the seemingly large baskets of Christmas toys and food we had with us were small, compared to the need.

Sunday afternoons like this were a regular Christmas season practice back then as a Center Noon Lions Club member distributing the civic club’s food and toy baskets. More often than not, I took my kids with me.

For just a moment, it was quiet. Robin and Lee looked, but neither said a word. Exiting my truck, I stepped from the warmth of my vehicle and into a sizable puddle of mud. Recovering from that, I looked for the door of the nearest house to verify our location.

A dim light shone through the window, and the muffled bark of dogs came from under the porch as I raised my hand to knock. Beside that dilapidated door was the rusted frame of a bicycle. It had no chain or tires, and lying beside it, was a worn-out doll.

In a window was a child’s drawing of Santa Claus with, “It’s Christmas time Oh, Oh, Oh,” in a youngster’s handwriting that I presumed to be the same child. At first, I wondered if it was a youngster’s misspelling of St. Nick’s Ho-Ho-Ho or a sad message of desperation.

Inside, family members huddled close to the wood-burning heater because more than three feet away from it, the temperature wasn’t much different than it was outside.

We shared the Lion’s Club basket with Christmas dinner fixings and children’s toys while visiting and learning everyone’s name. Then, wishing the family a blessed Christmas, we were off to find another location on our list.

As we were quietly traveling more muddy roads, Robin asked, “Why isn’t Christmas the same for all kids?”

“Well sweetheart,” I told her, “If we don’t get lost in the next hour or so, I will try tell you. But maybe during that time, we can make it better for a few of them.”

Prayers for a Merry Christmas to all through the eyes of a child.  

And a wish for special blessings for those many individuals and organizations who spend their Christmas time and money trying to make it a better memory for others.

—Leon Aldridge

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Aldridge columns are published in these Texas newspapers: The Center Light and Champion, the Mount Pleasant Tribune,  the Rosenberg Fort Bend Herald, the Taylor Press, and the Alpine Avalanche.

© Leon Aldridge and A Story Worth Telling 2021. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Leon Aldridge and A Story Worth Telling with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

“Any car’s weakest part is the nut holding the steering wheel.”

– Unknown

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Board games are always high on my Christmas gift-giving list. In addition to the old favorites like Chance, Clue, and Sorry, every gift-giving season debuts new additions that stimulate thinking skills and require no batteries or computers.

For me, board games filled hours of afternoons with neighborhood friends growing up and even as an adult at holiday family gatherings playing with the kids. Those memories were perhaps the muse for my latest holiday gift idea.

Consider the favorite for generations and all ages: Monopoly. The wealth-building game enjoyed a revival with the craze that swept the game nation when cities, schools, and organizations of every kind cashed in on morphing themselves with Monopoly. I remember the first one in Nashville, Tennessee, when “Music City” introduced its version featuring a playing board depicting all the city’s well-known landmarks.

Soon, every burg and business had its own version. I still have a “Boerne-opoly” game sold in that Texas Hill Country city where I published the paper in the 1990s. It’s like wheeling and dealing in your hometown to be the next big play money winner.

So, if you’re reading this Milton Bradley, I have the following “opoly” winner board game for you. Unfortunately, it’s too late to make Santa’s sleigh run this season, but it can be ready by next year if we work on it. While it can be adapted to individual hometown traffic entanglements incurred by many small towns, I propose we call ours “Driving Downtown Center-opoly.”

I can see it now: a playing board depicting the newly renovated downtown Center square, which I think looks fabulous. The city’s new small-town charm will make a great-looking game board for those drivers and pedestrians who haven’t yet grasped the correct (legal and safe) methods to maneuver it.

To win the game, players would have to drive (advance their game piece) around the square by entering at one of its four corners. Then roll the dice, just was as real-life drivers do, to go all the way around and exit at the same comer. But the catch is doing it without breaking one single traffic law.

Each player would start with the same number of points and get docked by cutting in front of others, failing to heed every stop sign, turning without signals, making left turns from the right lane, improper turns from one lane to another, and failing to stop for pedestrians in the crosswalks. Coincidentally, all real-life illegal actions as seen on the square.

The object for pedestrian players would be walking the game board on foot around the square (by advancing their game piece), crossing at crosswalks only, and returning to exit the square where they started.

Points would be lost by illegally jaywalking between the plethora of crosswalks available, creating havoc for the aforementioned “driver” players. Remember … those who do not stop for people in the crosswalks, cut in front of others, fail to stop at the stop signs, don’t use turn signals, and turn out of and into the wrong lanes?

Hidden penalties would be assessed for players parking a game piece on Austin Street near its intersection with San Augustine Street where anything short of stopping in the middle of the street is mistaken for parking. “Driver” players would lose points for illegal parking practices, including but not limited to failing to parallel park where designated, and parking on the wrong side of the street going the wrong way. Again, amazingly like real life.

Bonus points should be awarded to the first player offering a solution for big-rig truck drivers who seemingly cannot read the many “no trucks allowed” signs they pass ultimately creating traffic confusion on the square.

The game would be a best seller. Where else could one find thrill, excitement, and danger all rolled up in blatant disregard for traffic laws accurately depicting every day, real-life driving experiences?

—Leon Aldridge

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Aldridge columns are published in these Texas newspapers: The Center Light and Champion, the Mount Pleasant Tribune,  the Rosenberg Fort Bend Herald, the Taylor Press, and the Alpine Avalanche.

© Leon Aldridge and A Story Worth Telling 2021. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Leon Aldridge and A Story Worth Telling with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

“The single biggest problem in communication is the illusion that it has taken place.”

—George Bernard Shaw, (1856 –1950) Irish playwright, critic, polemicist, and political activist.

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Writers love finding new words. Even rediscovering forgotten words can be fun. My personal delight is checking the dictionary to ensure that a word I haven’t used in a while still means what it once did, and finding the definition tagged as “archaic.” Archaic wordsmiths love old words.

Last week, reading Mattie Dellinger’s column reminded me of the beauty and power in simple words. The long-time Center, Texas columnist and historian wrote, “In all my half a century of writing for newspapers, I’ve never used a word which would send the reader to the dictionary to see what I meant. The fact is I couldn’t spell it anyway. Maybe you notice that I use nickel words instead of four-bits words in my weekly writing.”

Mattie covered news stories and wrote columns for the local newspapers for decades before she passed away in 2013 at the age of 101. Her timeless columns are reprinted in the Light and Champion every week.

Working with Mattie for many years and calling her my friend was a privilege. I remember her often saying in our weekly editorial meetings. “Never use four-bit words when nickel words will do.”

At that time, we used to call those collections of four-bit words “gobbledygook.” That’s the fun word I remembered last week, and a word that my mother often used. It’s even fun to say. The dictionary defines gobbledygook as, “Unclear, wordy jargon.” Unclear messages to the point of absurdity have been compounded in many ways since I first heard the word.

Some blame it on attorneys and the courts. Some blame it on the government. Some even blame the media. But, regardless of who takes the rap, attempted oversimplification of communication has reached the point of gobbledygook.

Everything we read today: handbooks, procedures, directives, even washroom instructions are too often worded so “simply” that even a Harvard graduate has no idea what the Sam Hill some things are supposed to mean. I’m betting even Sam himself doesn’t know.

For example, “Effectively communicate to personnel the required procedural data to enable effective implementation for the methodologies delineated.” Today, a more easily understood version might be, “Shout it a little louder or post it next to the coffee pot in the break room.”

Try this one, “Make an attempt to perceive expectations concerning the applicability of these programs to the functions and capacities of their intended utilization.” See how much easier it gets once we understand? This one surely means, “Figure out what the customer wants.”

I read one a while back that stated, “Integrated logistical programming capability for incremental transitional time-phase projections.” I think you or I would have just said, “One thing at a time.”

These and similar gems were found in an old clipping that someone, perhaps Mattie, found during those years we worked together. That faded copy of “The Editorial Eye,” which included no individual attribution to offer, also proclaimed to “Effectively terminate all processes for project development.” It was determined by someone smarter than me that it means, “Stop working on this and find a new job.”

We no doubt figured out at one of our meetings with Mattie that, “Our preliminary projections of capitalization benefits have essentially proven to be severely underrated.” That one is easy. “Hello … we tried to tell you we needed more money.”

The classic use of two-bit words may have been, “A substantial increase in expenditures for fiscal resources to implement the optimum enhancement of conference room facilities.” Yep, just say, “The new executive washroom is going to cost more than we thought.”

Gobbledygook need not be limited to business communication, insurance policies, or legal language. It can easily be adapted to everyday or casual conversation with very little imagination. For example, when your wife says, “He metamorphosed into a laid-back mode with potential for a deeper transitional state,” all she is really trying to say is, “Don’t disturb the baby, he’s almost asleep.”

And the next time someone at a neighborhood party shouts, “Let’s have a little better integration of our individual efforts in our harmonious group interactions,”… don’t stress over it. Just sing on key.

After many years of writing, my money is still on Mattie’s advice.

So, do you know what it means to be categorized as a “polemicist” as was George Bernard Shaw in the above introduction? If you didn’t, I didn’t either, So I looked it up. “A person who engages in controversial debate.”

Now we both have a new word to use.

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Aldridge columns are published in these Texas newspapers: The Center Light and Champion, the Mount Pleasant Tribune,  the Rosenberg Fort Bend Herald, the Taylor Press, and the Alpine Avalanche.

© Leon Aldridge and A Story Worth Telling 2021. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Leon Aldridge and A Story Worth Telling with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

“Did I tell you the best part of watching your children grow up is seeing them learn how to improve on the advice you gave them.”

— Something someone told me years ago

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 “I would never want to be a mechanic,” Lee said after “hello.”

“Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving, Dad.”

“Thank you and Happy Thanksgiving to you,” I responded. “So … you don’t want to be a mechanic?”

My son is 42 years old, and did I tell you he is very good at what he does? Obviously, he doesn’t turn wrenches to support his family. His skills are in computers; a profession foreshadowed around his first-grade year when he latched on to a cast aside Apple IIE, my first computer. It quit and I replaced it with one of the “new” first-generation Apple Macintosh models. “Can I have the old one,” he asked? “Sure,” I said, thinking it would wind up disassembled and tossed in his toy box.

To my surprise, he revived the defunct device and was playing games on it in no time.

Computers were still sci-fi when I was that age, but my leaning was already toward the very thing about which he was protesting loudly last week. Long before I earned a driver’s license at 14 and started drag racing the family car at Stracener’s Drag Strip in Bettie, Texas (unbeknownst to my father), I was overhauling carburetors, replacing clutches and transmissions, and learning how to make cars go faster.

Although family and kids had cut into the budget, when Lee came along, tinkering with cars and racing was still part of my lifestyle. And as would be the dream of most fathers, mine was that my son would acquire similar automotive interests. Turns out he was interested in cars all right, just not my style. He liked the “tuner cars” gaining popularity then: to me, wimpy imports with tiny motors that sounded like a swarm of angry bees with gastrointestinal problems.

My heart raced to the deafening sound of American-made, high-powered V-8 motors with aggressive camshafts burning high octane gas and rattling windows with deep-rumbling exhaust tones. Did I tell you it still does?

But hey, he was a car guy.

Continuing his saga of automotive anguish last week, Lee related how one of his children approached him last summer with, “The air conditioner in my car doesn’t work.” He said he responded, “You’re old enough to drive a car, you’re old enough to take care of one.”

Thinking I had heard those words once before, I remembered, “Oh yeah, that’s sorta like what I told him 25 years ago.” Yep, I gave Lee a ten-year-old Chevy pickup in lieu of the brand-new Nissan “ZX whatever” he requested, telling him to show me how he could take of a vehicle, and we would talk about something somewhere between the two. Did I tell you how that worked for either of us? Drop me a line; I’ll share that story.

“So, when she called a couple of weeks ago and said the car wouldn’t go,” Lee continued, “We took it to the local dealership. Their estimate to repair everything that didn’t work, plus some things that were still working … good enough, was $8,000. That’s for a used car that cost $5,600.”

Making a long and funny story short (did I tell you my son can be a comedian), he and his father-in-law replaced the air conditioner fan motor which required removing much of the car’s interior. Next, they removed the car’s transmission and part of the suspension to replace the clutch. All of this, accomplished solely with a YouTube video knowledge and some head scratching.

“We worked on it for a couple of weeks,” Lee reported. “The hardest part was getting the transmission back in. But, just this afternoon, we figured it out. It went back together, I started it and it works. I wanted to tell you, Dad,” Lee concluded his story. “Because I know you’re a car guy. I could tell my friends but some of them are not really car guys. They wouldn’t understand.”

And I did understand the pride and sense of accomplishment detected in his voice as I remembered the first time I pulled the transmission in my ’55 Chevy as a kid to replace the clutch and repair the transmission. Yep, it’s a good feeling at any age if you’re a “car guy.”

Oh, did I tell you that these days, Lee’s ride is the Dodge Challenger R/T above, with a high-powered motor and deep-rumbling exhaust tones?

—Leon Aldridge

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Aldridge columns are published in these Texas newspapers: The Center Light and Champion, the Mount Pleasant Tribune,  the Rosenberg Fort Bend Herald, the Taylor Press, and the Alpine Avalanche.

© Leon Aldridge and A Story Worth Telling 2021. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Leon Aldridge and A Story Worth Telling with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.