If any uv ya'll remember Mr. Dean from Scouts,shoot me a reminiscence. The following came from his son in Dothan:
I really appreciate your comments about Daddy. He did truly love scouting and stayed with it until he was no longer able. He had a bad stroke in 1993 that put him down; he lived another 11 years flat on his back, 9 of those years in a nursing home. We visited him every single day. Christmas Eve day I gave him my usual goodbye ("See you later, alligator"; he responded with his usual "After a while, crocodile"). As I left the room, I told him I'd see him tomorrow; he looked at me slyly with a grin, and said, "I won't be here." Sure enough, Christmas Day, 2003, he left us. He had just turned ninety years old.
JOE SOUTH http://www.learnlink.emory.edu/~libmlm/joesouth.html
Everybody wished me a happy birthday yesterday. Got free cover at the Booth, saw four different bands and got free drinks at four different bars. It's great to ARRIVE ALIVE AT 55. The last Register male to accomplish this feat was my Grandfather Will Young Register on January 11, 1949. In honor of this milestone I contemplated writing the following story and now, given some new information I received today from a buddy from Dothan, I'm gonna write it.
In the late spring of '68, I was gonna graduate from Dothan High School. Seniors had privileges, one of which was we were able to take our exams early and have few days off before graduation.[ I was pretty bad about taking unfair advantage of privileges like on Senior Day when Cub and I dressed up as moonshiners, complete with fired clay whiskey jugs filled with I.W. Harper and percussion cap shotguns which we held out the windows of my Geek monster green Opal station wagon and shot into the air when we arrived on campus. Essie Mae didn't appreciate that]
Anyway, during the interim before graduation, Cub, Porky and I went to the beach and got a surfside room at the Spray Motel just down from the Barney Gray where the girls always stayed. This was a big deal. It was a big deal because,generally, for French Club or EYC beach trips or whatever, we always got rooms at the Spray but on the U.S. 98 side which was cheaper. (something like about $17.50 a night) We were going first class this time, however, we did have one little problem. We really wanted the upstairs beachside room with a kitchenette but a bunch of football players from Vandy had the entire second floor.
It wasn't just Vandy football players, though. There were a few hangers on as well. One was a Nashville cat who considered himself far more sophisticated in the areas of alcoholism and beach music that a bunch of barefooted rebel sons uv bitches from Dothan.
We all got along pretty well though. Early one evening the Nashville cat shows up with some front page news. He starts hollering about Joe South actually playing a gig at some club,maybe the Red Rooster, that night. He went crazy over Joe South. He was saying something about Joe just getting out of the army or something like that and it was,"Joe South! Joe South! Joe South!"
"Who in the hell is Joe South?," I thought. I'd never heard of him, however, over the course of the next year all that would change.
So here's the conclusion of this episode of "The Games People Play":
We all get back from the club. I don't remember if we saw Joe South or not. Anyway, Cub,Porky and I are on the deck in front our first floor, beachside kitchenette, when I notice rain hitting me in the face. I looked up into the sky and saw the moon and stars so I wuz puzzled until I noticed that the Nashville cat who's queer for Joe South is pissing off the balcony above us.
I immediately ran upstairs to confront the perpetrator. Nobody got in my way cause they could see I was hot. I hadn't been around college kids long enough to know that pissing on someone on the ground below you is fair game.
I let the Nashville cat know I was not amused and that he should prepare himself for a royal ass whipping. He immediately plucks his glass eyeball out of his right eye, puts the eyeball right up in my face and says,"You wouldn't hit a guy who's only got one eye,would you?" I replied by crossing with my left fist which effectively closed his good eye.
Any way,here's my question. Any uv ya'll got any stories about the mysterious Joe South who allegedly once invited an entire audience to line up in front of the stage in order to get the opportunity to kiss his ass.
And while you're at it, I didn't get any birthday presents from any uv ya'll yesterday so I'm expecting stories. Great stories about about Wilbur and the Revelers and N.K. and The Cavaliers and One Nut Chuck and Kesey's favorite barroom and Neil and The Chukker and Thuh Bear and Skynyrd and anything else that comes to mind.
Have a good'n
P.S. And one last thought from a buddy Down Home who was reflecting upon the importance of us all getting back together to do it again:
I have talked about the old times and how great they were in spite of the occasional bumps in the road, and God knows we all had them. I reckon I've been pissed off at just about everybody at least once, and looking back, I know I sure could have tried anybody's patience periodically. We decided it was best to just enjoy each other's company and the good memories we have while we can, and forget the bad shit. But, then again, we don't have lawyers lined up and big bucks at stake.