Tag: poetry

I still hear those words

“Art washes away from the soul, the dust of everyday life.”
— Pablo Picasso (1881 – 1973) Spanish artist

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While hanging the painting of a sad, wet dog on the wall in my newly refurbished “music room slash library” last week, words from some 30 years ago came back to me.

“You collect some heavy stuff, man.”

They were the words of Judy Snouffer. About July 1993. The day I accepted a generous offer from her and her husband Chuck to help unload truckloads of household belongings at my newly acquired Hill Country home near Pipe Creek, Texas.

As the newest editor and publisher at the Boerne Star, my charge included producing the Boerne newspaper and looking after Granite Publications properties in Bandera, Gonzales, and Fort Stockton.

Judy (better known to friends and co-workers as “Jet”) was composing supervisor and graphic artist at The Star. Chuck worked for the City of Boerne. What I didn’t know was Judy’s artistic skills reached far beyond that of just newspapers.

What Chuck and Judy didn’t know was that I collected unique but heavy stuff. Books, artwork, phonograph records, juke boxes, neon signs, gas pumps …and cars.

I knew Chuck and Judy owned a car. I don’t remember ever seeing it, but I did hear them talk about one. Their daily transportation was matching motorcycles. Not just any motorcycle, but Moto-Guzzis. Manufactured in Italy. Also, the oldest European manufacturer in continuous production.

Jet parked her bike by the newspaper office back door every morning. Far outclassing my Honda Shadow, whenever I rode it.

She was different. A cool kind of different. Like a refugee hippie from the 1960s. An artistic soul who worked and thought outside the dust of everyday life. She wore black fingernail polish before it was a thing. She personalized her work area with stars, moons, and crystals. Motivation for her creative vibe.

And creative she was. Jet surprised me one day with the painting I still have of a sad, forlorn looking dog in the rain. The dog closely resembled Max, the adopted basset hound who made the move to the Hill Country with me. He hung out at the office on Fridays, quickly becoming known to the staff as “Office Max.” Jet was moved by my story one day about Max getting rained on and wet in the back yard before I got a doghouse built. That’s when she gifted me with her painting titled, “Dog Day Blues.” Noted on the back as “No. 507” dated January 22, 1994.

It blew me away. “This is beautiful,” I said. “I knew you were an artist, but I didn’t know you painted.” Jet was humble, shyly showing me photos of her other work plus a feature story from the San Antonio Express News about her artistic awards.

Jet wasn’t the only one who contributed to my lifetime of acquired pieces still hoarding memories today in my music room slash library. “How would you like a Boerne fire hydrant for your quirky collection,” Chuck asked one evening?

“You’re speaking my language,” I quickly responded.

“The city’s replacing old ones. A pile at the yard is headed for scrapping,” he said. Go with me after work tomorrow and we’ll get you one.”

I was thrilled. Until I grabbed one end of it. “You didn’t tell me a fire hydrant weighed as much a Buick Roadmaster station wagon,” I laughed.

‘Bout like your Seeburg jukebox or that Mobil gas pump we unloaded,” he quipped.

I left the Hill Country in 1998. It was a few short years later the day the message arrived from a mutual friend in Boerne. An obituary.

Judy “Jet” Atkins Snouffer died tragically March 18, 2004. The way she would’ve wanted to go – on her motorcycle. She “died with her boots on.”

“Jet” was survived by her loving husband, Chuck Snouffer of Boerne, the obit continued. Judy grew up between Texas and Germany. She worked at the Boerne Star and STPS. Judy was a very free spirit, living life to the fullest. Aside from being a very eclectic personality, Jet was a very creative and talented person; a “’ane of all trades.’ She was a recognized artist having won several awards.”

The obit concluded with, “Ride on Jet!”

I think of Chuck and Jet when I glance at the painting.

And I still hear, “You collect some heavy stuff, man.” 

—Leon Aldridge

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Aldridge columns are featured in these publications: The Center Light and Champion, The Mount Pleasant Tribune, the Rosenberg Fort Bend Herald, the Taylor Press, the Alpine Avalanche,  the Fort Stockton Pioneer, the Elgin Courier, The Monitor in Naples, and Motor Sports Magazine.

© Leon Aldridge and A Story Worth Telling 2025. Excerpts and links may be used, provided full and clear credit is given to Leon Aldridge and ‘A Story Worth Telling’ with appropriate and specific directions to the original content.

The almanac, guaranteed good reading

“When a friend deals with a friend, Let the bargain be clear and well penn’d, That they may continue friends to the end.”

— Written by Benjamin Franklin (1706-1790) in Poor Richard’s Almanac under the alias of Richard Saunders. The publication appeared from 1732 to 1758.

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Fall has arrived! And I for one, am glad.

Because of fall foliage, pumpkin spice coffee, or cooler weather, you ask. All of that, but also because the 2025 almanacs will ship soon.

An almanac will never make the New York Times Best Seller list, but they are still one of my favorite reads. Whether it’s the Texas Almanac, the Farmer’s Almanac, or the Cardui my grandparents swore by, almanacs are still informative and entertaining.

Indelible childhood memories of the house in Pittsburg where my father grew up include what was always behind the back door. A single shot 22 my grandfather used to dissuade Blue Jays from fleecing fruit from his prized trees, a flyswatter for insects invading the un-air-conditioned house (and for unruly grandchildren), and the Cardui calendar for wisdom, advice, and entertainment.

Cardui calendars and almanacs were primarily to promote the elixir by the same name. It was good. I know that because Dolly Parton and Porter Wagner hailed its virtues every Saturday afternoon on their country music television show. Between songs like “Holdin’ On to Nothing” and “Just Someone I Used to Know.”

Dolly’s endorsement aside, some folks might say if you’ve seen one almanac, you’ve seen them all. But that’s just not true. They are all gems for weather forecasts, planting tables, zodiac ‘secrets,’ recipes, astronomical tables, tides, holidays, eclipses, articles, and remedies for all sorts of aches and ailments.

One thing that makes a good almanac interesting for “city slickers and country folk alike,” as Farmers Almanacs markets theirs, is that scores of advertisers and writers compete for space each year. The result is a “duke’s mixture” of diverse ideas offering new and old information, all of which defies usual descriptions. Let alone any sort of conventional best seller book review.

According to my old friend, fellow columnist, writer, musician, and folk historian remembered by many in Center, Don Jacobs, the standby book has saved many a columnist from “mundane” mumbo-jumbo writings.”

Jacobs once said, “Faced with the prospect of having to turn out yet mother Halloween column as October looms were writers dreading the dilemma of trying to describe orange-colored wax whistles to kids who know how to program computers. Then swooping in just as deadlines approach,” Jacobs added, “the Old Farmer’s Almanac manifested itself on countless shelves.”

The columnist even called the almanac tantamount to the Great Pumpkin himself, “… leaving a bag of goodies that could be reviewed from early Fall clear through to Christmas and still have ideas left over.” And he was right.

For instance, who remembers the turn-of-the-century Mail Pouch Tobacco thermometers? Still need one for the barn, the house, the garage, or the man cave? Faithful reproductions are available, as are windmills, weathervanes and Rosebud Salve … all in the almanac.

Other vital information you’re likely to find can also include pitches for learning to be a locksmith, learning how to read small print easily, or instructions on sending off for a mail order government surplus directory.

If it’s your health that concerns you, the almanac has that covered, too. Dealing with a hernia, hard of hearing, or huffing because you’re just plain run down and worn out? There are products guaranteed to “perk you up, hold you together, or cure what ails you.” Things like “Rooster Pills” that, according to the ad, promised to have you “feeling active, vigorous, and crowing again.”

And where else besides the almanac can you read about how one family of seven cut their water heating bill in half, the latest on comets, the history of the mule, and how to pick the perfect mate? All in one edition. There’s the internet now, some say. But you know you can trust what you read in the almanac.

Plus, you can trust pearls of wisdom by philosophers such as Old Nels, Reese Davis, Homer Stillson, Padric Gallagher, Gertrude Bailey, or one Miss Keller — whose writings might cause modern philosophers to take notice.

Miss Keller wrote, “I’ve never met a trollop who was a good cook, or a good cook who was a trollop.” She also had some choice words about tomcats and high-heeled shoes, but her all-time classic was on chickens.

“If you want to raise chickens,” she offered, “you have to put up with the rooster. And if you want to raise children, you have to put up with a husband.”

So, if you find the latest list of best sellers to be boring, just grab yourself an almanac. They are guaranteed good reading on topics you never thought about, offering advice you didn’t know you needed.

Just ask Dolly.

—Leon Aldridge

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Aldridge columns are featured in these publications: The Center Light and Champion, the Mount Pleasant Tribune,  the Rosenberg Fort Bend Herald, the Taylor Press, the Alpine Avalanche,  the Fort Stockton Pioneer, the Elgin Courier, The Monitor in Naples, and Motor Sports Magazine.

© Leon Aldridge and A Story Worth Telling 2024. Excerpts and links may be used, provided full and clear credit is given to Leon Aldridge and ‘A Story Worth Telling’ with appropriate and specific directions to the original content.