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IN THIS ISSUE

• Mike Yeager visits his old home town
• Burke Dykes, Geoff Goodship, and Jean Sterling send us letters
• Carol Shoemaker´s observations are appropriate for Mother´s Day
• Marilyn Magid forwards an update of a nautical joke
• Dick Monaghan warns against asking seniors leading questions
• The editor invites you to play online versions of Scrabble
• Bruce Galway, Pat Moore, and Tom Kyle suggest websites

Mike Yeager writes in his blog about a visit to his home town:

BACK TO CHILDHOOD AND THE ´50S

A few years ago I had the opportunity to return to Ferguson, Missouri, the town where I grew up, with my friend Paul. We´ve known each other since we were nine. We went to the same elementary school, were both in cub scouts, and played on the same little league team. In the mid 60s Paul went away to college and I went into the army. Neither of us returned to live in Ferguson.

In the ´50s when we were growing up, Ferguson still had the feel of a small Missouri town. The lakes froze over in the winters for ice skating, and in the summers we swam in the town´s public pool, rode our bikes, and played baseball. But what Paul and I most looked forward to was sleeping over at each other´s house on Friday nights and then on Saturday morning, walking to downtown Ferguson.

The trip took less than an hour from my house. We talked the whole time. I don´t remember the content of those conversations - probably typical pre-teen subjects like current TV shows, comic book characters, or some new toy we wanted. We passed by the giant oak tree on Nancy St., cut through Jeske Park where we first played little league baseball, across a four-lane street and through several neighborhoods until we spilled out into the parking lot of the medical building. Entering the back door and exiting the front put us right across from the library, fire station, and Sonderagers´ Bakery. The smell of fresh bakery goods often drew us in. To this day these German pastries serve as a standard that is rarely met in my adult quest for an apple strudel, cheesecake, stollen, or creme-filled torte. Our main destination was Quillman´s Drug Store, where we could buy a fountain cherry coke, with extra cherry syrup.

We would sit up at the Formica counter on the chrome and vinyl stools that swivelled completely around, across from the shiny chrome soda fountain dispensers. Directly behind us was the comic book rack with all the latest comics. We were not allowed to spin around on the stools or take the comics off the rack. We knew the rules.

Our next destination was the Ben Franklin Five ´n´ Dime, where we meticulously examined all the toys and trinkets, usually purchasing something like a small cast iron car or baseball cards. The entire trip took most of the morning.

When Paul and I returned to Ferguson as adults, we were in our 50s. We parked in my old neighborhood. The houses looked small and close together. First we walked up to Lee Hamilton elementary school. The kids were just lining up outside to load onto the buses. We waited a few minutes before going in. It was a strange experience, everything looked miniaturized. The building and classrooms had not been altered much over the years. I had the feeling I was experiencing something from another lifetime lived long ago, yet so familiar.

As we walked in the hall, one of the male teachers approached, "I heard there were some old guys wandering around." He looked about 10 years younger than us. I had the fleeting thought, I´ll show him who´s an old guy. He was probably the history/gym teacher and could have cleaned my clock. Besides he had the authority to send me to the principal´s office. My adult, adolescent, and little kid brain were all going at the same time. Luckily, the adult brain stayed in control and I continued to behave like a 54-year-old man.

All around us were sights, smells and sounds evoking strong memories: the bathroom where we hid from the bullies, the stair wall on the side of the building where I jumped off onto the rocks below, learning the lifelong lesson to never do anything on a dare, the heaters on which we softened hunks of clay to throw against the walls where they would stick, simultaneously yelling ,"Pooperdoo!" As we talked to the teacher, I had the odd feeling that he might have heard about some of our childhood shenanigans and maybe we shouldn´t linger too long.

Paul discovered his 6th grade classroom had been split in two and now was an office. The secretary told us she had lived in Ferguson her whole life. My first thought was, how sad that she had been stuck in this small town. I asked her if she had known my favorite teacher from the 5th grade, Mr. Atkins. She said he retired a few years ago and he had recently died. She seemed to know exactly why I was asking. She said that two of her kids had him for a teacher as well. I felt sad that I´d never taken the opportunity to tell him how much he meant to me and how often I´d thought of him over the years. By the time we left the school, my thoughts had changed. How lucky she was to have been able to stay in Ferguson all these years.

We left the school and began our trek to the downtown area, just like we had done so many times as kids. The big oak tree across from the park was gone. No trace of it remained. A wide sidewalk wound its way through the park and a sturdy railing followed it close to the creek. Did we really need to be protected from falling into the creek where we used to spend hours playing and exploring? The baseball field and backstop looked the same. We´d both started out in little league there. Paul remembered his very first game. He hadn´t purchased a glove yet, but the coach stuck him in the outfield anyway. He said, "I started my baseball career afraid I´d be hit in the head and killed by a fly ball." When I started out, I remember sitting on the bench watching Jimmy, the pitcher, throw very fast curve balls to Billybob, the catcher. I was in awe of their confidence and skill. I sat on the bench most of that first year.

Downtown Ferguson was barely recognizable. The main street through town was four lanes and the traffic non-stop. Quillman´s was a Chinese restaurant and Ben Franklin was gone. We recognized most of the old brick buildings, but all the shops were different and uninteresting. The town had definitely lost its charm. Several pedestrians stopped and politely listened as we rambled on about what the town used to be like: "Right in this field behind us the Catholics had their Friday night fish fry. And in the summer the travelling carnival set up there." "Across the street over there was the Velvet Freeze ice cream shop and on the corner, Luby´s restaurant where our families ate out occasionally." "And over there was the department store where we bought all our school clothes." I´m sure they were utterly fascinated by our astute memories and observations.

On the way back to the car we walked through January Wabash Park. The swimming pool looked pretty much the same except there was no more high diving board. Paul remembered, "That cement area around the pool would be covered with bodies. You had to get there early, get in and out of the water fast in order to find a space to lie down on the hot concrete." I remember once coming out of the pool and being punched in the face by a kid I didn´t know. He said he didn´t like me and wham! I was upset and shocked. How could he not like me?

Across the lawn was the small amphitheater where outdoor movies were shown on summer evenings. Paul pointed to the spot where he first made out with the hot little cheerleader he was dating in high school. He was lingering in that memory until we rounded the recreation center and an earlier one replaced it. "That´s where Mike C. used to beat me up every day at summer camp."

Our trip back to Ferguson was in 2002. We had both taken time out from our "important" lives to re-turn to the place of our childhood. It was a time before the ´60s cultural revolution, before Vietnam, before the Internet and cell phones, and before we became "serious, responsible adults". Now we´re both in our 60s and it feels like time once again to experience life as a wondrous adventure.

ED. NOTE: Mike´s blog can be found at http://www.aretiredboomer.blogspot.com

CORRESPONDENCE

Burke Dykes explains why Jay loves to experiment with the appearance of his website: Jay´s alternate site is still clean and easy to navigate; he hasn´t gone overboard with it. The background doesn´t conflict with the site´s simplicity. Sometimes it is fun to play around to relieve the boredom of scripting html sites.

ED. NOTE: I have never been interested in learning how to use html to put up websites, in spite of Jay´s hints that I could do it myself. However, I do realize that after one has learned the basics it can become a boring routine, and I do know why Jay wants to jazz up his site. He is still changing his alternate site frequently, and you can check out his latest at

Geoff Goodship follows up on his article about mason bees: There is no doubt about the importance of bees as pollinators. There have been predictions of bee failure here on the Island for some years now. Some bee keepers blame it on BC Hydro and BC Rail spray programs. My gauge is my raspberries. Each year when the raspberries come into bloom, I have a great many bees active there. Last year I noted that about 2/3 of the population were much smaller than the adults I´m used to seeing. I´m anxious to see who shows up this year. I expect the blossoms and the bees in 2-3 weeks.

ED. NOTE: For an article on the catastrophe facing honey bees, go to http://arunaurl.com/3hd8, or check out http://arunaurl.com/3hch for a TED lecture by Dennis vanEnglesdorp, acting State Apiarist for Pennsylvania´s Department of Agriculture, on bees´ important place in nature and the mystery behind their alarming disappearance.

Jean Sterling writes: I enjoyed Dick Monaghan´s story about hospital socks. I got a pair of similar socks from my visit to the ER last July. I wear them a lot. I might as well - I figure they probably cost me $50 or more (they were no doubt included on the hospital bill under misc.) They´re real nice, but then again, they should be!

When I was at my son´s house in Virginia recently I saw a very busy bee immersed in a field of white azalea blooms. Son told me that it was a carpenter bee, and his description about making compartments in wood sounded much like Geoff´s description of mason bees. I took a picture of the bee and thought you might like to see it. I thought that bee must have thought she had hit the mother lode or that she had died and gone to heaven.

These observations from Carol Shoemaker are a tip of the hat to mothers everywhere:

CHILDREN...

If it was going to be easy, it never would have started with something called labour!

Shouting to make your children obey is like using the horn to steer your car, and you get about the same results.

The smartest advice on raising children is to enjoy them while they are still on your side.

The best way to keep kids at home is to give it a loving atmosphere and and hide the keys to the car.

Parents: People who bear infants, bore teenagers, and board newlyweds.

The joy of motherhood: What a woman experiences when all the children are finally in bed.

Life´s golden age is when the kids are too old to need baby-sitters and too young to borrow the family car.

Any child can tell you that the sole purpose of a middle name is so he can tell when he´s really in trouble.

Grandparents are similar to a piece of string - handy to have around and easily wrapped around the fingers of grandchildren.

There are three ways to get something done: Do it yourself, hire someone to do it, or forbid your children to do it.

Adolescence is the age when children try to bring up their parents.

You know the only people in this world who are always sure about the proper way to raise children? Those who´ve never had any.

Oh, to be only half as wonderful as my child thought I was when he was small, and half as stupid as my teenager now thinks I am.

There are only two things a child will share willing: communicable diseases and his mother´s age.

Money isn´t everything, but it sure keeps the kids in touch.

Adolescence is the age at which children stop asking questions because they know all the answers.

An alarm clock is a device for awakening people who don´t have small children.

No wonder kids are confused today. Half the adults tell them to find themselves; the other half tell them to get lost.

The people hardest to convince that it´s time for retirement are children at bedtime.

Kids really brighten a household: they never turn off any lights.

Marilyn Magid sends this variation of an old joke:

TRAVEL B.C.

A pretty young blonde woman from Vancouver was so depressed that she decided to end her life by throwing herself into the ocean.

She went down to the docks and was about to leap into the frigid water when a handsome young seaman saw her teetering on the edge of the pier, crying.

He took pity on her and said, "Look, you have so much to live for. I´m off to Hawaii in the morning. If you like, I can stow you away on my ship. I´ll take good care of you and bring you food every day."

Moving closer, he slipped his arm round her waist and added, "I´ll keep you happy, and you´ll keep me happy."

The young woman nodded. What did she have to lose? Perhaps a fresh start in Hawaii would give her life new meaning.

That night, the sailor brought her aboard and hid her in the bowels of the ship.

From then on, he brought her three sandwiches and a piece of fruit every night, and they made passionate love until dawn.

Two weeks later, the young woman was discovered by the captain during a routine inspection.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I have an arrangement with one of the seamen," she explained. "I get food and a trip to Hawaii and in return he´s screwing me."

"He certainly is," said the captain. "This is the Nanaimo ferry."

Dick Monaghan suggests that you should be careful about what you ask retired people:

IN LINE AT COSTCO ...

Yesterday I was at my local Costco buying a large bag of dog chow for my loyal pet, Brista, and was in the checkout line when the woman behind me asked if I had a dog.

What did she think I had, an elephant? So since I´m retired and have little to do, on impulse I told her that no, I didn´t have a dog, I was starting the Purina Diet again. I added that I probably shouldn´t, because I ended up in the hospital last time, but that I´d lost 50 pounds before I awakened in an intensive care ward with tubes coming out of most of my orifices and IVs in both arms.

I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet and that the way that it works is to load your pants pockets with Purina nuggets and simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry. The food is nutritionally complete so it works well and I was going to try it again.

(I have to mention here that practically everyone in line was now enthralled with my story.)

Horrified, she asked if I ended up in intensive care because the dog food poisoned me.

I told her no, I had stepped off a curb to sniff an Irish setter´s ass and a car hit us both.

I thought the guy behind her was going to have a heart attack, he was laughing so hard.

Costco won´t let me shop there anymore.

Better watch what you ask retired people. They have all the time in the world to think of crazy things to say.

FROM THE EDITOR´S DESK

I love Scrabble, and still have the board I took with me when I got married so many years ago in Shawinigan Falls, Quebec. Over the years I have played countless games with many different opponents and in later years, collaborators. With my daughter and a couple of other willing players, I have cooperated to make the highest possible combined scores, with the only competition being against our own high scores.

These games have always been accompanied by the Official Scrabble Dictionary, which has the distinction of rejecting perfectly good Anglo Saxon words, probably on the grounds that it is a family game. The game that I downloaded onto my computer uses the same restrained dictionary, but has no compunction about using foreign words, slang, and even dialect - many of which leave me in a state of frustration and doubt: "THAT´S a word?"

I play against the computer at the "smart" level, but if I were to choose the "genius" opponent, I would not recognize half the words. I know because I tried it once. There are three choices after "smart": "elite", "master", and "genius". I´m sticking with smart because I get tired of being skunked.

There are online versions of Scrabble but I have never tried them. There are variations of the game, however, with just enough differences to avoid the copyright laws. For instance, "Lexulous" uses eight letters instead of seven, and has different counts for different squares; "WordScraper" also has eight letters and a much different board, and even random versions of the board. They do use those words omitted from the original dictionary, and many others I´ve never heard of - some of which I have looked up in regular dictionaries without success.

I play both those alternate versions with two long-time friends from my university days and a young man whom I met online when MindLink was a favourite meeting place, especially after midnight when it was free. Those three are sharks when it comes to word games, and our fortunes vary with our luck in getting good letters. One of them is notorious for trying combinations of letters until she finds a word the game will accept, and she has no more idea than I have of what they mean; nor does the standard dictionary, in many cases.

We play on FaceBook, and if any of you is a member of that social site and wants to play Lexulous or WordScraper, just invite me to a game and I´ll be there. I hope some of you will try it!

THIS WEEK´S SUGGESTED WEBSITES

Bruce Galway writes: This is one of the most graphic and brutal videos I´ve ever seen, but if it makes you think twice about driving after even one drink, or getting into a car with someone who has, it was worth sending:

On a happier note, Bruce writes: Every year we gaze enviously at the lists of the richest people in world, wondering what it would be like to have that sort of cash. But where would you sit on one of those lists? Here´s your chance to find out:

For the musicians among us, Pat Moore sends this site which allows you to play virtual music:

http://arunaurl.com/3hdc

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And for the cooks, Pat suggests this site for a video of how to peel potatoes the easy way. She wishes she had known about this when she was cooking for her family:

Tom Kyle writes: Friends have been asking: "So, are you getting an Apple iPad, Tom? "

Probably not. I´m thinking of buying a pair of these instead:

Speaking as both an astronomer and "a concerned member of the human race," Sir Martin Rees examines our planet and its future from a cosmic perspective. He urges action to prevent dark consequences from our scientific and technological development: