The Reverend Slick returned to Kennett last night to infuse new life into my good friend Viretta.
Category Archives: Snapshots & Fragments
50’s birthday party
You can skip this post if you’re not from Kennett. If you are, and 50+, perhaps you can help me ID some of the people in this photograph. I can only get a handful. Front row (seated): Terry Reeder, Steve Mays. Second row: Karen McAlister (?), Larry Cowgill, Jim Henson, Unknown3, Gene Overall, Unknown4, Mike French. Third row: Unknown5, Unknown6, Unknown7, Mary Talbert, Buddy Shivley, Mike Neeley. You can help me fill in the blanks at stevemays@gmail.com
When you work together too long
He has better haircut, I have a nicer shirt
During the first season of Seinfeld, one of the ladies at work kept telling me I looked a little like this guy on TV. I never thought so until I came across this lovely snapshot from the mid-70’s. I know it’s a stretch but it’s either Jerry or Carrot Top.
Odometer of Life
The photograph was –I believe– taken on my fifth birthday. John bought the cake at the annual Rotary Radio Auction. I’m guessing it was created by Causbie’s Bakery and intended for a wedding. But it made a hell of birthday cake. This image captures the essence of the 50’s for me. Ward, June and the Beaver. Seemed fitting for tomorrow’s 56th birthday. Christ, (sorry, Mel) how is it possible I have a photograph of myself that’s more than half a century old?
Lesson learned during the past year? It’s a good thing to count your blessings but you can’t use the math you learned as a child. I have all of these wonderful birthday presents, so if I break or lose one, it’s okay because I have so many more. One would think. Unfortunately, you might have one hundred items in the Blessings column and just one in the Other column…and find you are overdrawn in your Life Book. One drop of pain can be so concentrated, it needs an ocean of Good Things to dilute it. And it never goes away entirely. How did I miss this awful truth?
Reading corner
For just a few minutes, following a brief shower, we got some of that strange light that made everything look a little unreal.
Junior High Basketball Team
I think Frank Proctor made me memorize the state capitols and all of the U. S. presidents (I no longer know either). One summer he started his “Merry Mobile” business. He drove up and down the streets of Kennett selling frozen treats. He was also the junior high basketball coach and one of my greatest achievments was “making” the team. I loved playing basketball in the back yard but was terrible at the real thing. I warmed benches through the 10th grade before hanging up my Chuck Taylors and rediscovered the joy of the game at the city park. The Web cannot be complete without this photo of the Kennett Junior High Basketball Team.
Back Row: Terry Hunter, Mike Shipman, Robert Taylor, Phil Ayers, Buddy Shivley, Jerry Bird, Otis Mitchell, Randy Carter, Brett Baker. Front Row: Tommy LaTurno, Ben Pickard, Larry Hale, Bruce Baker, Steve Mays, John Robison, Tommy Saunches, Darrell Jackson, Tony Stewart.
Barb, Steve and musician (Memphis 1971)
The photo above was taken on a Memphis street corner in the 70’s. Charlie Peck posed Barb and me with an itinerant street musician. The resemblence to prop comedian Carrot Top is disturbing. [This post was edited on 8/3/05]
Ripley by the wood pile
Years ago I vowed never to do an unpleasant job if I had the money to pay someone else to do it. My reasoning is quite sound: I love the work I do and would, in fact, do it for no pay. If I give that money to someone to do those things I dislike doing, I can go get so more money by doing something I love. Is that so hard to understand? But there are a few manual chores I enjoy. Splitting firewood is one of those. All those sticks and no fetching. Ripley was not pleased.
Self Portrait
A couple of years ago I confessed that I thought I looked my best in theatre restrooms. Now I’ve done the unthinkable. I photographed myself in that challenging setting. In the tradition of all great risk-takers, I had no cover story in the event someone walked in.