DISAPPOINTMENT

 As usual, I’ve looked forward to summer since the first day of fall. The warmer days and longer nights just make me feel more alive, younger. Anything that can turn me that delusional usually is illegal, but summer weather is just the best. Of course, bad stuff has a way of ruining the fun. 

This spring, what I call early summer, has been marred by too much rain. At the same time, tornadoes have cut deadly trails through cities in “Tornado Alley” and the usual places, but at the same time, twisters also have hit in the northeast and even in atypical places like California. My work schedule at the golf course has been goofed up as well. Some days, I’ve driven to the course and arrived by 5:30 a.m., only to be sent home when the rain begins before I hop on the mower. On too many other days, the downpours held off until I was at the farthest point from the shop. By the time I reached a dry place, everything I had on was as wet as a bathing suit.  

Our pool opened late this year due to the cool weather. To my surprise, the weather has made the water feel the same temperature as that in the mountain streams. On a couple of occasions, I’ve “manned up” enough to take the plunge. The water felt fine after my lips turned blue and the feelings left my feet and hands. The mid-80's are preferable for most of us old guys to swim, but I prefer the 90’s on the days I swim.  

Amy and I spent a few days in Houston. Our “adopted son” Josh Fritts has lived there for 18 years with his wife and two children. This was our first trip to see them, we had a good time. The worst part was driving from the airport and across downtown Houston to Josh’s home 40 miles away. The Houston Airport is a construction mess and a security checkpoint nightmare. Arriving home was a relief. 

The worst event so far this summer has been my third bout of covid. It hit like a ton of bricks. The chills were so bad that my muscles were sore from the shivering and shaking. They hit a couple of times, but the elevated temperatures were the worst of all. I kept a temperature of about 102, and on one occasion the number reached 104. Most people remember the worst part of covid is the tiredness that sets in and stays for days. I’m still working through that and hope to have enough energy to return to Planet Fitness next week.  

I still am a fan of summer. The weather predictions are for the 90’s in the coming days. I won’t have to wear a jacket to work for a while, and I can refresh myself with a quick swim. As for illnesses, I hope no others decide to visit; I’d like to take a few day trips with Amy and our dog Sadie. I sure don’t mind sweating; in fact, I prefer sweating over cold hands and feet any time. I want to take advantage of every day of summer. 

SUMMER ISN'T COOPERATING

 As usual, I’ve looked forward to summer since the first day of fall. The warmer days and longer nights just make me feel more alive, younger. Anything that can turn me that delusional usually is illegal, but summer weather is just the best. Of course, bad stuff has a way of ruining the fun. 

This spring, what I call early summer, has been marred by too much rain. At the same time, tornadoes have cut deadly trails through cities in “Tornado Alley” and the usual places, but at the same time, twisters also have hit in the northeast and even in atypical places like California. My work schedule at the golf course has been goofed up as well. Some days, I’ve driven to the course and arrived by 5:30 a.m., only to be sent home when the rain begins before I hop on the mower. On too many other days, the downpours held off until I was at the farthest point from the shop. By the time I reached a dry place, everything I had on was as wet as a bathing suit.  

Our pool opened late this year due to the cool weather. To my surprise, the weather has made the water feel the same temperature as that in the mountain streams. On a couple of occasions, I’ve “manned up” enough to take the plunge. The water felt fine after my lips turned blue and the feelings left my feet and hands. The mid-80's are preferable for most of us old guys to swim, but I prefer the 90’s on the days I swim.  

Amy and I spent a few days in Houston. Our “adopted son” Josh Fritts has lived there for 18 years with his wife and two children. This was our first trip to see them, we had a good time. The worst part was driving from the airport and across downtown Houston to Josh’s home 40 miles away. The Houston Airport is a construction mess and a security checkpoint nightmare. Arriving home was a relief. 

The worst event so far this summer has been my third bout of covid. It hit like a ton of bricks. The chills were so bad that my muscles were sore from the shivering and shaking. They hit a couple of times, but the elevated temperatures were the worst of all. I kept a temperature of about 102, and on one occasion the number reached 104. Most people remember the worst part of covid is the tiredness that sets in and stays for days. I’m still working through that and hope to have enough energy to return to Planet Fitness next week.  

I still am a fan of summer. The weather predictions are for the 90’s in the coming days. I won’t have to wear a jacket to work for a while, and I can refresh myself with a quick swim. As for illnesses, I hope no others decide to visit; I’d like to take a few day trips with Amy and our dog Sadie. I sure don’t mind sweating; in fact, I prefer sweating over cold hands and feet any time. I want to take advantage of every day of summer. 

I'M GONING TO MISS HIM

 Today is May 23. I just received a telephone call to inform me that my cousin had passed. Right at this moment, I don’t feel much of anything. In fact, it’s hard to believe that the man is gone.  

Charles (Charlie) Quinton Balch might have been the smartest person I’ve ever known. As a child, he drew pictures that were far more detailed than anything other young’uns created. He drew all sorts of cars and trucks. Some were standard vehicles, but some were developed in his mind and then came to life on paper. Those cars were sleek, futuristic autos that had a variety of gadgets, many of which became standard equipment on future vehicles.  

At an early age, Charlie freehanded calligraphy. It came naturally to him, and he would write out things that we wanted with ease. He’d tell us that calligraphy was easy to produce, not in a bragging way but as a way to be self-deprecating.  

He began his first job at Mercer’s TV Shop. The owner realized how intelligent Charlie was and knew that some male attention would do the boy good. His parents had tough times, and Charlie could escape some of the drama by spending Saturdays at the shop. He learned to fix televisions and radios. He put his skills to work by fixing sets and radios for friends and family. 

My uncle asked Mother if Charlie could live with us for a time. Mother already had two boys in high school, but she said “yes,” and Charlie moved in for the next year. He fit in perfectly, just like another brother. He and I both were grounded for bad grades; neither of us had a girlfriend; and our lives were spent sitting at home with nothing to do since the television and stereo were both off limits during our terms of confinement.  

Charlie and I spent weekends together after finally achieving freedom. We ran the roads between the Copper Kettle on Western Avenue and other drive-in restaurants in Knoxville. It was at that point that we also began drinking some beer. Charlie had taken classes in printing at Fulton before coming to our house, and he mastered the art of making fake drivers’ licenses. We pooled money, although Charlie’s job gave him more than I had, and bought the suds that we drank. Most of the time, we went to a drive-in movie, and while the windows of other vehicles fogged from passionate necking, ours stayed down as we listened to the sound of empty beer cans clinking on the gravels.   

After high school, Charlie and I went in different directions. I made my way to Cookeville for college, and he stayed in Knoxville and worked for a local printing company. It was during that time that I received a call one evening with news that Charlie had been in an accident. His car left the road and slammed through a wooden fence. Charlie lost an eye and suffered several fractures to his facial bones. He never let on to it, but I suspect that the wreck was the beginning of a downward spiral. He didn’t much care to associate with me when I was home, and his love of beer grew. I suppose he was an alcoholic, but I never once saw him incapacitated by his beer consumption.  

In the last few years, I rarely heard from Charlie and saw him even less. I kept up with him via Facebook. After putting in some time at a marble quarry, he’d become the maintenance man for a site in Townsend. That place closed according to one of his posts, and he became a “jack-of-all-trades.” Customers loved him and found him to be one of the funniest persons in their lives. The man had a knack for ingratiating himself to whomever he was associating.  

Charlie Balch is gone. That harsh fact is difficult to accept, even though we haven’t been close in years. I know he could have been considered a brilliant person according to I.Q. and other assessment tests. The truth is that Charlie was a modern-day Henry David Thoreau. He chose to live a life of simplicity and freedom. He lived his life on his own terms as an adult. Perhaps he once again showed the rest of us just how smart he was. I wish Charlie had had just a little more time to enjoy retirement and to settle into his old age. I’m going to miss him.  

NOT ENOUGH ROAD

 A few weeks ago, I wrote about the progress of the new Schaad Road. I also told about the traffic that had been routed through our subdivision and onto back roads. Here’s an update on that story. 

Most motorists have been driving carefully through the neighborhood. The speed bumps have slowed many drivers, and those who have chosen to zip up the road have hit the bumps and landed with a satisfying (to residents) thud. Although the number of cars has decreased as parts of the new road have opened, hundreds of cars still pass by our house each day. Neighborhood walkers have ceased their routines for fear of being flattened by one of the speeders.  

I do realize the inconvenience for drivers as they try to figure out which way to go at the end of the subdivision road. A detour sign points one way, and that way leads right back to our house. It’s when drivers turn left that the real trouble starts.  

Fitzgerald Road and Boss Road are the ones that folks must take to reach their destinations. The problem with those roads is that they are not wide enough for two vehicles. They're what the County Roads folks call two “of the many narrow roads in Knox County. No plans are to widen such roads, but drivers are expected to navigate them without trouble.  

Those new to these roads soon discover how narrow the roads are. They travel at speeds much too fast for the conditions. Upon meeting other cars, many continue zooming and simply edge their vehicles in the yards of residents. Plenty of rainy days have turned these places into muddy areas. Car tires splash the mud onto roads and further destroy yards, all to the fuming anger of homeowners.  

Recently, those who live on these narrow roads have taken actions of their own. Some have driven wooden stakes on the edge of their property to keep out intruders. One person decorated the markers with green ribbon so that they could be seen more easily by drivers. Another disgruntled property owner put together a row of metal fence posts and set them close together. At that point, it becomes drive at your own risk. In other words, if cars are approaching each other, one of them must stop to let the other pass. If not, side mirrors might be knock off the cars 

Some drivers think putting poles and posts up as mean-spirited actions. However, if folks have worked to establish healthy lawns and beds, they have a right to maintain their property and protect it from the wheels of cars, trucks and semis. Yes, tractor trailer trucks are passing through the neighborhood on the way to destinations. 

Rumors fly about completion dates for this section of road, and the most optimistic is September of this year. That means residents will have to not only deal with waves of dust that come from the steady flow of vehicles but also my cope with the construction sites. All in all, none of us who live here are convinced that this new road will cut down on traffic when county agencies and government continue to pass out use on review exceptions so that more and more subdivisions can be built. With summer fast approaching, let’s all hope that rainy days don’t delay too much work and that all of us around here don’t choke to death.