December 31, 1998

The other day I stepped across the street and there lying dead in the road were two pigeons and a little white cat with a collar and tinkle bells on a ribbon around its neck.

Why don’t some people, when they see pigeons a cat or dog in the streets, slow down? Or do they just enjoy running over them? I know that little white cat was some child’s pet and it was greatly loved. I know what it is to lose a pet. I had a German-police dog that I thought the world of. One morning I found him dead in my back yard. Somebody threw a piece of eat, shredded with broken glass in it, and my dog ate it. That dog was my pet and I loved him.

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I read in the Book of Duratitis that if you are mean to animals, you will come back in the next world as an animal – namely, as a jackass!

Remember the time when it took all day long to go to New Orleans and back by automobile? You had to cross the ferry from Berwick, go through Morgan City and down Railroad Avenue. The highway was a gravel road and in some sections it was a dirt road. If it rained on the dirt road, you had better have some chains for your tires because the dirt roads would be very soft, muddy, and dangerous.

First thing you had to do when you would leave Berwick was crank you car to start it. That took about 15 minutes. Now, if you had less than two flat tires, consider yourself lucky! When you had a flat tire, you would fight that old jack to raise the car. Then you would take the tire off, take the inner-tube out of the tire, scrape the inner-tube wherever the hole might be, put glue around the hole, and put a patch on it. Then you had to get your pump and pump air into the inner-tube. After pumping for almost half an hour, and with your tongue sticking out below your chin like a dog that’s thirsty and hot, you are finally through and back on track. After about four hours, you cross another ferry into the New Orleans area. After getting lost about three times, you conclude your business and head back, crossing the ferry again. If it happens that you get caught in a rain shower, you have to get out of the car and put your celluloid sides on your windows. About the time you got them on, your rear end is sopping wet. By this time, night is falling, but you are getting close to home. Suddenly, you see that you are almost out of gas. So, you stop at Siracusa’s filling station and fill up. Then, you cross the ferry again to Berwick – home again at last!

Now, back in the 1920s, Patterson was nine miles from Berwick. The highway followed the river and was called the Old Spanish Trail. In those days, it took a half-hour to go to Patterson from Berwick. Today, you can spit from the Berwick city limits to Patterson city limits.

Time waits for no one! Can you imagine how many times you use the word “time?” Nobody can beat “Father Time.” He beats the best of the athletes in the matter of “time.” George Foreman came close to beating “Father Time,” but “Old George” made too many muffler commercials and used up all of his “time.” Satchel Page also gave “Father Time” a run for the money, but fell short too. When you go to bed at night, you automatically notice what “time” it is; and when you get up, you also notice what “time” it is. There are a lot of people who would say, “I don’t have time to do this, or that, or anything!”

But there will come a “time” when you will take “time” for everything, because your “time” here will be up and it will be your “time” to pass away.

* The End *

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