Oops, sorry. I missed the Otoe barbecue. I chose the shelter of the home during the most pleasant rain and later got into a prone position to check the fly specks on the ceiling in the living room.
Later when I came out of never-never land, I realized we had missed the goodies. A check of the rain gauge was comforting. It measured better than an inch and a half. Up on the North 40.
You question the living room floor for snoozes?
Mercy sakes, folks. Can you think of a better place for a catnap and still in the middle of things?
"Shhhhh," I heard the Queen Bee.
"What's the matter?" saith the boy with the clunky feet as he dropped his stinky, smelly bag of football gear on the kitchen floor and banged the door.
(Snort . . . snort . . . they thought I was asleep.)
"Your father is taking a nap," she answered.
"I suppose that shhh . . . shhh . . . means that Dad is konked out on the living room floor," he said.
"Yes," the mother-of-the-house said. "Now hold your voice down."
Pretty soon there came another alarm. This time it was the volleyball girl.
"Mom!" she said.
"Shh . . . shhh," hushed the queen.
"Where's dad? I gotta talk to him. We need the Ranchero to haul stuff for the homecoming," said the lowest form of life at high school. (That's any sophomore.)
"He's sleeping . . . it'll have to wait."
"Yeah, can't you tell that, dummy?" snapped the boy.
"Okay smarty . . . you."
The Queen wound up her stinger and interrupted.
"Be quiet! Both of you! Your father is taking a nap."
"He started it," said one young child.
"Yeah, but she . . ."
"Enough! Be quiet!" she said as she snapped the stinger.
Snort, snort. I was truly enjoying the company. After a few moments, I rolled over, groaned and put on an act like I had been sleeping (snicker, snicker) and called to the family, "Hello, anyone around?"
"Hi Dad," was the response. "Man, do you sleep soundly."
"Yeah," I answered. "Learned that little trick from President Kennedy."
"Huh?" one young child asked.
"Oh, he was the master of the catnap and I just practiced until I got it all down. Sound sleep. Never hear a thing."
The last big fling.
Mrs. John Staack helped me to recall the big night held in Otoe when the school basketball team went to the playoffs.
They didn't win the playoff crown but when the boys got back to town, you'd have thought they did.
Reporters Jack Andersen and myself went to Otoe that night. Jack had followed the Otoe boys through the season and was called upon for a few words at the big banquet that night.
Mrs. Staack, I looked this up in the News-Press files of February 1957.
The first string included Roger Witt who averaged 30 points a game and was an All State center, Jerry Gorton, Junior Kirchhoff, Roger Fey, Dick Steinhoff and Duane Hillman. Bob Ihrig was the coach.
He directed his boys to 18 consecutive victories before they dropped it 46-53 to Elmwood. They made a comeback, however, dumping Elmwood in the Class D district 60-48 and went on to capture the district title defeating Springfield 54-40.
In the playoffs, they lost a chance to go to the state tournament in a 55-54 game with Verdon. Witt scored 33 points that night.
There was a lot of good basketball in the county that year. Palmyra won the Class C title and Talmage captured the E crown.
Sitteritus.
One of the things that makes newspaper work interesting is the opportunity to hear many speak. It also creates sitter-i-tus.
The other night we listened to a man speak on a single subject. His topic was interesting. He talked an hour and a half.
The next night we attended another meeting. The speaker held his audience for over an hour and a half.
The third night we attended a meeting involving a number of speakers. That lasted over two hours.
I don't know how much of the subjects I absorbed. I know how much "body" abuse I had taken. No matter, the point is, everyone was giving the speakers the attention they richly deserved.
At those long winded sessions do you ever look around at what other people are doing? I do. A lot get droopy eyed, some just plain snooze, some take notes, but most just sit and listen.
I've missed most of the premiers on TV. I did catch the end of "Airport '75" and helped that stewardess fly that 747 over the mountains and most of "Big Jake" and helped John Wayne rescue his grandson.
I have second thoughts about TV this fall. During the previews of coming shows was one about a teen-age prostitute. I wasn't too sure whether that was prime time family entertainment.
No matter. The family rules the roost. When I flip my bic it's to another channel.
Did you read the other one in the VFW magazine about a father who took his daughter to New York and to one of those plays which made a father blush a bit?
"I'm sorry, honey," the father said, "that I brought you here. This is hardly the place for a girl of your age."
"Oh, that's all right daddy," she answered, "it'll probably liven up a bit before long."