L.L. Bean men’s T-shirt in Camp Green
  • L.L. Bean men’s T-shirt in Camp Green

Title: Hometown Horror

Address: hometownhorror.blogspot.com

Author: William Mondt

From: Bay Park

Blogging since: 2010

Post Title: Rainbow

Post Date: July 10, 2012

HEY, it was for all history until now a happy phenom that a person felt lucky to have seen, and mentioned to good friends. The basic colors are there in their true uncompromised state. And then L.L. Bean started screwing with it. Page 7 shows 12 women’s T-shirt colors, which include butter, dill, and the always popular azurite. Men only have 10 choices. Damn. You can get periwinkle, petal, French blue, rhubarb, or almost any non-color one can imagine. They do have black and white, but the white just isn’t. About 30 years ago I bought a casual shirt. It was GREEN. Yesterday I wore it to clear some brush. It has faded. I think I will instruct my next of kin to have me in it when my funeral pyre (cremation) is conducted. It was GREEN without a modifier. I still express my misgivings whenever I am approached by some dingbat sales person who seems to be just so thrilled to be here.

Post Title: How’s Your Wife?

Post Date: April 27, 2012

My buddy Dusty says to me, “I think my wife might be dead.” So I says, “You ain’t sure?” So Dusty says, “Well the sex is still the same, but the dishes is stackin’ up.” Hum.

Then there was Arkie Jim; came from AK. Painted his 4-door Ford with about 40 aerosol cans of green paint; the sucker looked like a bush. Arkie was married when he showed up, and after a reasonable time his beloved died, no question about this one. Definitely dead. Arkie handled his loss rather well, and it was rumored that there was an insurance settlement. Needing companionship, Arkie soon remarried. Tragedy strikes! His new companion died. Another settlement. The insurance folks checked it out, and the last I heard of Arkie, he was living rent free at a California facility for men.

Post Title: Fun on the Job

Post Date: April 15, 2012

The early days working for The National Cash Register Company were mostly spent at independent small businesses, where I learned that a cash register was referred to as a Jewish piano. If you were lucky enough to service a machine in a Tijuana bar, you better get the money first. A typical comment when you presented the bill after the work would be, “Reynaldo over at the Casa Bellas Artes [bar] owes me 20 dollars; you can get it from him.”

Post Title: Notable Young Fellows

Post Date: March 27, 2012

Wayne Sparks: back in Boone, following Air Force boot camp, seen riding the streets as in a parade, sitting on the top of the rear seat of a convertible in full regalia. Medals, stripes, all manner of awards normally achieved following long and meritorious service. I was fortunate to become acquainted with Wayne and many happy times were had. I lost track of Wayne’s whereabouts and activities for several years, but I was at a Boone Society Meeting and happened to be setting by Mrs. Ecternach. She informed me that Wayne had entered the ministry of the Lord. I was a little surprised, but on further thought realized that no one had a better knowledge of the ways of the devil than Wayne.

Post Title: Gone ta Hell

Post Date: March 24, 2012

About 1939, I go to the circus: on the dirt, in a tent, lion in a cage, elephants, a rough lookin’ crew. Dad took me to see them set up. Three tough guys pounding one stake for the tent; this is working together. Then we all went to the show: a guy standing on his head on a trapeze drinks a bottle of pop! I did not think this was so great until I tried drinking upside down. Horses, monkeys, tigers, and CLOWNS. These clowns were actually funny, acting dumb, falling down, and just plain nuts. Well somewhere around 30 or 40 years later, some jerk decided that clowning (in costume & makeup) was therapeutic, and as a result a whole bunch of unqualified folk became clowns at the suggestion of their therapist. They ain’t funny no more. They are bureaucrats. And then there’s the comedians.

[Posts edited for length.]

Hometown Horror, continued

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