November 19, 1999

After fixing the nose, the doctor performed a skin graft on my Aunt Clesa’s face – like you would not believe. The doctor got all the wrinkles out of Aunt Clesa’s face with that skin graft. What he did was graft on her face the skin from the smoothest part of her body that he could find. He wouldn’t tell anybody where he got the skin from.

But, every time Aunt Clesa would get tired, her face wanted to sit down.

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Holiday Blues: Christmas, Easter and Thanksgiving are festive times for most people. But, if you are old and alone and dwelling on memories of happier days, you’re likely to become depressed. If you are lonely, go out of your way to make new friends. You’d be surprised how many people there are like you who crave a relationship. Say “Hi” to the neighbors you haven’t bothered with all year. Call an old pal with whom you’ve lost contact.

Don’t sit around and pine for the “good old days.” The only way to cure that kind of sadness is to make “good new days.”

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Have you noticed the different types and sizes of hamburgers that you can buy today? There are single, double and triple burgers. You have to have a large mouth to bite into a triple burger. Do you know the type?

To me, a good old time hamburger is the best – a slice of ripe tomato, lettuce, ketchup, a small dash of mustard, a thin slice of onion – and bun toasted on both sides – no sour pickles or mayonnaise – and then you have a hamburger.

I saw a fellow the other day eating a hamburger and the mayonnaise was dripping on him at the elbows.

Remember those good hamburgers that Dusty Rhodes in Morgan City made? And how about the street fair hamburgers with the onions frying all the time and they would put some of those onions on your hamburger. That was tasty – even if a roach ran across the grill and got swatted into the hamburger meat. It was still good!

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Here I am sitting on my patio writing this story. Next to me is a set of wind chimes. It is relaxing to have soft chimes ringing. You can concentrate so easily.

I’ll never forget when my son was going to high school. At night, he would study his lessons with low, soft, beautiful music. He said that he could really think with that kind of music. It must have been OK because he was valedictorian of his class.

I know some kids today who do their homework with that loud, bumpy, jabber-noise that they call music. I think I could concentrate better if I was sky diving or bungee jumping while studying than with that going on.

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