A to Z Theme 2016

For my 2016 A to Z theme I used a meme that I ran across on the blog of Bridget Straub who first saw it on the blog of Paula Acton. This meme is a natural for me to use on my memoir blog. It's an A to Z concept and it's about me. No research and nothing complicated. I'm given twenty six questions or topics to discuss that are about me.

In April I kept my posts short and uncomplicated. In the midst of it all you might learn a few things about me that you didn't previously know.
Showing posts with label East Tennessee. Show all posts
Showing posts with label East Tennessee. Show all posts

Saturday, March 5, 2016

I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry (Soundtrack of my Life)



        If life were a theatrical film, there would likely be a soundtrack with meaningful songs played during key scenes.   Do certain songs evoke special moments or eras in your past? This is what I've been doing with my "Soundtrack of My Life" series of posts: Looking back and putting my life to music.
         
       Robin has been doing the Soundtrack of my Life posts on her blog Your Daily Dose. I had done a few of my own "life soundtracks" on my Tossing It Out blog as well as the song series (starting at this post) I did for my 2014 Blogging from A to Z April Challenge on Wrote By Rote. Be sure to visit and follow Your Daily Dose for more Life Soundtrack info. 


Here's the song to accompany this post:


       
       One of the biggest summers of music for me was 1966.  My family was staying in Maryville, Tennessee while my father was working at a new project location for the industrial contracting company he'd been working at for a number of years.  It seemed like a vacation for me and my brothers and sisters since we were staying in our 17 foot travel trailer at a mobile home park that had a number of spaces set aside for vacationers to the Great Smokey Mountains.

         While my father worked during the day, my mother took us kids on a number of sightseeing excursions throughout the area.  As one of the primary vacationing spots in the United States, there was plenty to see around the area where we were staying.  There was always plenty to do away from that trailer park, but I also found plenty to do on those lazy summer days when we just stayed "home" which is how I thought of that trailer since we were living there for a couple months.

        Having just finished middle school in Northern Indiana where we had been living, I was interested in many of the same things that others my age enjoyed--one of the main things being the pop music scene.  For the previous three years I had developed a keen interest in the chart hit artists such as The Beatles, The Beach Boys, Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass, and so many others.  Music had become a primary focus for me.  Soon after arriving at that Tennessee trailer park I discovered the local top forty station WNOX.  That radio station became the soundtrack for my summer of 1966.

          There are so many hits that stand out for me from that magical summer.  With the radio playing almost continually throughout the day, those songs became cemented in my mind.  My little transistor radio--the first I'd ever owned--became like an attachment implanted as a part of me.   Daily the radio was always playing those hits that were cycled throughout the day in regular rotation.

           One of the stand out songs that I remember hearing was B.J. Thomas's version of the great Hank Williams classic "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry".  Thomas was new to the top forty scene and this song was his first big hit nationally.  Judging by the frequency I heard the song on the Knoxville station I'd call it a monster hit in East Tennessee.   To me the song was a new one.  If I'd ever heard the original prior to hearing the Thomas cover, it didn't resonate with me.  I was no fan of country music at the time--or at least I didn't think I was even though I had bought or enjoyed records by artists like Johnny Cash, the Statler Brothers, Buck Owens, and others.   Country was something I ridiculed unless a song of that genre happened to cross over onto the top forty charts and in those cases I figured the songs weren't country.

          The mournful sound of B.J. Thomas singing "I'm So Lonesome..." perked my ears whenever it came on the radio.  The words could actually be easily understood unlike some of the songs that were played.  They were lovely poetic words that tapped into a melancholy place within me.  It would be a down time of contemplation for a few minutes sandwiched between the more frantic hits of the daily playlist.

          With seven of us crammed into the small space of a travel trailer there wasn't much of a chance of being alone--at least not for long.  Neither was I lonely during that summer.  Not only did I have my family, I made some good friends who became an integral part of my years to come.   In fact as I reflect over my life I cannot recall feeling lonesome for any extended period of time.  Though I might have had periods when I felt somewhat alienated, aloof, or in a situation where being with others wasn't easy for me at some particular moment, deep rooted loneliness has been something I haven't felt too strongly in all of my years.

         Loss has haunted me on occasion, such as the periods when my marriages fell apart and I felt the pain of longing for a relationship that previously filled my life.   Sometimes desire might have filled me with a sense of desperation of wanting another person to share my life with, but that was a feeling that mostly impacted me in the years prior to my first marriage.  They were the times when doubts about my life and the insecurities of not being in a relationship filled me with some sense of emotional fear.  But I didn't have a problem about being alone.

          Lonesomeness as an ongoing state of mind has not especially been a concern of mine.  I've always enjoyed having time alone.  My pursuits such as stamp collecting, music, and reading are primarily activities that thrive best in solitude.  Even now, while I enjoy the company of my family and friends, I have to have times when I can be alone.

           I certainly get what Hank Williams was saying in his mournful song.  For a brief span of time I feel the pain and pathos expressed in the song while I'm listening to it.  Memories might linger for a little while in my mind as I fall into a reflective state of mind thinking about my life and my world.  Crying about being lonesome seems almost alien to me now.

         When have you felt so lonesome that you could cry?   Do you enjoy being alone?   Have you been in close situations when you had to spend a lot of time with other people?  





Saturday, August 16, 2014

Tennessee Stomping Grounds

English: Olympus 4.0 Megapixel 3x zoom Digital...
English: Olympus 4.0 Megapixel 3x zoom Digital Camera. Taken in 2002 in Cocke County, Tennessee. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)


         Thomas Wolfe is famously attributed to the saying "You can't go home again" which was taken from a posthumous novel of that name.   Most often the saying is more in reference to the fact that you can't recapture the place and circumstances of your memories.  We can fondly remember, but usually we are disappointed and disillusioned when we visit home hoping to find things like they once were.

        The fact is that things change--people, places, and all that our memories embrace.  Those things might be there in one manner of speaking, but rarely can we completely recapture the old feelings or experience the same sensations like they once were way back when.

        It's been 23 years since that last time I lived in East Tennessee and that was for only a few years having spent a previous 13 years on the road with a traveling show.   When I left my parents' home in 1975 for a life of travel it was not so much a severing ties as it was a beginning of new chapters in my life.  It's a decision that I'm glad I made, but my leaving created a gulf in the familiar relationships I had enjoyed during the years previous to that departure.

        As time passed, my old friends established newer relationships with people I did not know.  Some of those friends went on to get married and start families. Others moved away like I did while a few passed from this life.  Over time even the face and spirit of my home town changed as more people from other places moved into the area, old landmarks disappeared, and newer places were built in their places.  Highways were improved and bypasses were built.   The small town that I had once known took on a greater urban feel.   Where once I could be out and about and almost have a guarantee of running into someone I knew, now I might be out all day all about town and never see an old familiar face.

         Change is to be expected over time and probably a place would not be economically healthy if that change didn't occur.  Geographically my old Tennessee stomping grounds still exists on the map, but for someone who grew up there it is barely recognizable in many ways.

         Friends grow older and gain new responsibilities with careers, lives, and families.   I don't feel quite as comfortable just dropping in on many of them for fear of intruding or interfering with their busy schedules.  There are still a handful with whom I maintain fairly regular contact, but rarely do I actually see them.  The old Tennessee stomping grounds holds a fond place in my memories.  However, these days when I visit East Tennessee in some ways I almost feel like just another one of the many tourists who pass through there each year.

        I would imagine that if I still lived there I might feel a lot different about the old homeland.  But I don't live there anymore.  And I don't know if I ever will again.  Not that I wouldn't want to.  It's just that things change and sometimes going back home can never recapture the memories of what once was.

        Are there places from your past that you've gone back to and they just felt different to you?   Do you currently live in a place where you grew up or that you came back to after an extended time away?   How do you feel about the Thomas Wolfe observation that "you can't go home again"?

Saturday, April 5, 2014

Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere #atozchallenge





Neil Young  "Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere" (1969)




Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere

         When my family first visited Maryville, Tennessee in the summer of 1966 I fell in love with the place.  We had been living in Northern Indiana near Chicago at the time and the experience of East Tennessee was something completely different for me.  Now my father was being offered a work transfer and we were scouting the area to see how we liked it.   A decision was quickly made and by end of summer we were in our new home.

           Considered the "Gateway to the Smoky Mountains", Maryville was a stopover for many vacationers and there was much to do in the area.  The town itself was small--almost like a throwback to the previous decade--but it had a charm for those new to the area.  I had made some friends quickly and looked forward to going to a new school.  I would be entering high school that fall.

            Once the novelty of the area had worn off and school had started it was pretty much back to business as usual for my life.  Old me in new environs.   School wasn't horrible, but it was still kind of a drag for me.  My friends from summer lived across town from where I now lived.  They went to the same school as I did but that's usually the only time I saw any of them.

             Don't get me wrong, I still liked where I lived.  But I was in high school--restless and in a state of ambiguity about where I was going in life.   I was never totally bored but sometimes life in the small town seemed boring.  There wasn't that much to do.  It was like Nowheresville.

            After high school I attended the university in nearby Knoxville while still living at my parents' house.  In evenings and on the weekends my friends and I would hang out, often going to the mountains.   We were somewhere, but it often seemed like nowhere.  The restlessness for something more ate at our young souls.  I looked toward the world away from Maryville.  Someplace, anyplace far from nowhere.

             Then I left.  My parents were still there so I visited frequently.  I gained a greater appreciation for Maryville and though I'd only started living there when I was in high school this was the place that I thought of as my home town.  I became kind of proud of that place and still am.

             Now Maryville, Tennessee is a much bigger town with a lot more to do.  More shopping, more restaurants and night spots--more of everything that the town didn't have when I was living there.  I no longer think of Maryville as Nowhere.  Now I think of it as the home that for now I am away from.

           Did you feel like you lived in Nowhere when you were younger?   Has the passing of years changed your attitude about the places you lived when you were younger?   Does it sadden you to see modernization come to a small town?


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Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Brotherly Love

Friends (The Beach Boys song)
Friends (The Beach Boys song) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

        When my family moved to East Tennessee for a trial see-how-we-liked-it period, we stayed the summer at Tarbett Road Trailer Park in our 17 foot camper trailer.  This was my parents and me with my two brothers and two sisters.  Talk about close quarters, but we had done this often and seemed to survive the situation okay.

        It was the summer of 1966--right before I would start my sophomore year of high school.   I made new friends around the trailer park quickly since there were several guys about my age living nearby.  One with whom I became particularly close to was Fred Tilson.   His real name was David Gale Tilson.  I'm not sure why, but his mother called him David and his father called him Gale.   His friends began calling him Fred and he seemed to prefer that.

        During that summer Fred and I were hanging around so much of the time that my father started calling us "The Glass Brothers".    This name came from the fact that we both wore dark framed glasses which gave us a certain resemblance to each other.  We also had very similar interests, the primary one being music.  Our conversations would often be centered on the popular music of the day--The Beach Boys, Lovin' Spoonful, and The Beatles.   That summer the sounds of the local pop station could almost always be heard if we had a radio with us.

       Though my father's reference to us was made in jest, I did begin to feel this brotherly kinship with Fred. We shared so many memorable experiences.  We had a few downs, but mostly ups.  Sometimes we'd go our separate ways, but when we'd get back together it was like homecoming and all was just as it been when we had last parted.   Fred was about as close to a brother as any friend I've had.

        When Fred became seriously ill in 1994 he tried to keep it from his friends.  Eventually we all knew he might be dying.  I was now living far off in California and couldn't make it to see him, but I called a mutual friend to keep me posted.  When the day came that our friend Tom let me know that Fred was in the hospital, I called my "brother" to say my good-bye to him.

       I could hear the weakness in his voice and could picture him in that hospital bed with friends around him.  The man had a heck of a lot of friends.

      We didn't say much.   He was too weak to say much.   I said, "I love you, Fred.  You've been a great friend to me."

       "I love you too, man," Fred replied in a thin fading voice.

        Those were the last words we ever spoke to one another.  I'm glad those were the words.  Our friendship was the embodiment of brotherly love.

        Have you had a friend whom you loved like a sibling?    What makes a friendship stay true as years pass?    


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Saturday, April 14, 2012

Maryville, Tennessee

Blount County Court HouseBlount County Court House (Photo credit: jimmywayne)

       
          When my parents took our family to East Tennessee in the summer of 1966 it seemed like a vacation, but I guess we knew it was going to be a relocation.  This would be my sixth move in fifteen years.  I guess I was ready to move again, but to the small town of Maryville?

          My parents and my two brothers and two sisters were living that summer in a 17 foot travel trailer parked in the Tarbett Road Mobile Home Park.  The trailer park was primarily for more permanent dwellers, but they had a few smaller slabs that were reserved for tourists or itinerants like ourselves.  Our small trailer made for cozy confinement.  We had often stayed in the trailer when we worked at fairs and circuses so we were accustomed to it.  Besides it all seemed like a summer adventure to us.

          Having most recently come from the Chicagoland area, Maryville seemed like a real hick town to us.  People talked differently than we had been accustomed to--a countrified twang that sometimes made us laugh.  Soon I discovered that there were some really fine people there.  I started making a number of friends in the trailer park neighborhood.  When the decision to move to this town was announced by my parents, I had no problem whatsoever.  I was looking forward to a new adventure in a new place.

          I ended up graduating from high school in Maryville and living at my parents' house while I attended the University of Tennessee in Knoxville, a  short distance away.  The East Tennessee area was a great place to live.  Only 15 miles from the entrance to the Great Smokey Mountains, my friends and I would be camping, hiking, or doing something in the mountains whenever we had the free time which seemed often.

         In 1975 I went off on my own working in touring shows.  Whenever I was able to I'd go back to stay with my parents and enjoy time with my friends.  Sometimes I'd bring some of the show people to stay in Maryville if we were touring in the area.  I always felt proud to bring them to my hometown.  Yes, that's the way I eventually came to think of Maryville--my hometown.  And even though I haven't lived there in over twenty years, I still think of Maryville as my hometown.




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Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Downey, California

Downey AvenueDowney Avenue (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

           I was given a choice between Downey and Chicago.   The pay and benefits would be the same job-wise. I'd lived in the Chicagoland area before and knew the weather could be much less pleasant than Southern California.   The job site in Chicago was not in an area where there was good housing so that would mean a commute and traffic hassles.   In the end, the decision was easy.   I chose Downey, California as the location of my new job, my new home.

         Downey was all about decisions, but that's what life is after all.  In the chosen home for my family the decisions were many.  I had taken a job as the manager of a wholesale costume company--the job of a manager requires daily decisions.  However, it was the decisions I faced at home that impacted my life the most.  They were not just my decisions, but also the decisions of my wife who soon became my ex-wife.

        There were tough times.  Emotional times.  Sad and happy times.  In the end though, it was a time of hanging in there and doing what needed to be done.  That was the crux of my biggest decisions--the responsibilities of raising kids, running a business, and eventually meeting a woman who would become my next wife.

         Over all, things turned out okay despite the job ending after eighteen years.  The kids all graduated from Downey High School and went on to be responsible adults.  I'm still with the wonderful woman I met and married in Downey.  We moved out of Downey after we got married, but not far--it's only a couple miles away and I'm still there several times a week.  I guess I could say I live in the Downey area, but for anyone not familiar with that I'd say the Los Angeles area.

         I guess what I can say is that when I moved away from East Tennessee in 1991, I moved to Downey, California.   And that's all I have to say about that.  It was a decision that now I live with.

         What decisions have you made that changed your life in a major way?   Are you happy with where you live now or would you prefer to live elsewhere?


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