Random Thoughts

Villefranche-sur-Mer France 24 March 1922 Dear Mother Combs, (Half-way down page 2) We have been very happy, too, both of us like to stay at home and play with the baby. Honestly, without prejudice, I will say that Patricia Combs Aldrich is the sweetest and best baby I ever saw. We both love her almost too much. She is growing fast and is getting smarter every day. ... Best of love to all, Clarence June 15, 2016 Dear Mom, You sure have been on my mind a lot lately. John thinks Maizey has been waking up in the middle of the night because she sees a ghost. We always kidded that it was Mick Shrock up there. Jack and I are pretty sure there are spirits downstairs - usually wandering down the hall. I wish I knew if for sure if you and or Dad were hanging around. And if so, why? Is that what souls do? Linda and I went up to Georgia in April to go through Aldrich family memorabilia. Perhaps if spirits are real, you went with us. We had such a good time. There was lots of laug...

At 14 the girl had gone from being called "toothpick" to being whistled at in a two piece bathing suit. It was the mid-sixty's so the suit, while showing off some boob and curves, would be called modest by today's standards. The girl kind of liked the attention. At 14 the girl knew a little bit about making out, drinking beer and smoking cigarettes. All three were usually done on a double date  (if you can call boys driving one car and girls driving another, parking next to each other, then pairing up,  a date) at the drive-in movie.  At 14 the girl knew the basics of sex, but had never seen or experienced an erect penis or ejaculate. She had never heard of oral sex, anal sex, kinky sex. To say she was naive would be an understatement. To say her naivety mixed with her blossoming sexuality was a dangerous combination was a certainty. At 14 the girl walked a tight rope between being a "good girl" and following other girls who pushed the limits of "good...

June 4, 1921 Southern Hotel Baltimore, MD. Dearest, dearest family -- How I wish you could have been here yesterday to see me married to the dearest man in the world! I thought of you all a thousand times and it was the only thing which marred an otherwise perfect day. The service was read more impressively than I ever heard it before and we both realized very well just what we were doing but neither of us - I know I didn't - had a qualm. I was never more serene and calm and happy in my life!! Love, hugs and kisses to you all, Gertrude _ _ _ _ June 8 Dear couple that got engaged yesterday in Memorial Park, I watched from the other end of the sidewalk as one of you got down on his knee and asked a question while the other threw her arms around you in an answer that could only have been yes. Then your friend walked up, asked for a re-enactment so she could take pictures. I hope your lives together will always be filled with that same kind of happiness. I don't know what kind o...

June 6 Dear Mean People, We're all in this together. Why do you have to be mean? I try not to judge. I try to give people the benefit of the doubt. I try steer clear of things that aren't any of my business. But some things are my business, because some things are every body's business. Like the results of mean people being mean. I like to imagine what the world might be like if there weren't people killing people, or hurting children, or beating up their wives, or fighting wars over imaginary lines in the dirt, or kicking dogs, or having road rage, or yelling at checkout people who sometimes get backed up and have to go slow, or laughing at people who look/act/think different, or hating people because their skin is a different color, or telling people who have to pee that they are in the wrong bathroom, or telling lies, or honking their horn at slow drivers,  or shooting animals, or walking by a homeless person without looking, or drinking too much then drivin...

June 4, "Service to others is the rent you pay for your room here on earth." June 4 Dear Mohammad Ali, I never knew you. I've never been a fan of watching people beat each other up. But today, when I heard the news that you'd passed away, I felt an unexpected sadness. There is a hole in the world, where greatness once reigned. The "rumble" you inspired with hard work and a sense of humor has been silenced. You were a champion in and out of the boxing ring. You were a hero, in the old-fashioned sense of the word. Who will fill your shoes? I'm trying to imagine what heaven must be like today. Are you showing the angels a few of your dance moves? Are you reciting poetry to St. Peter. Are you showing your pretty face to the One who created it? Are you sitting next to Prince resting in the glow of perfect peace? Thank you for sharing your life with us. m

I wonder if Eve could write letters in Paradise!  But, poor Eve, she had no one to write to -  no one to whom to tell what Eden was,  no beloved child to whom her love traveled through any or all space.  Poor Eve!  Catharine M. Sedgwick June 2, Dearest Daughter, I read the news this morning of a shooting at UCLA. It always makes me sad to hear about a shooting (or anything bad happening at a school). It's hard to imagine being a parent that sends her child to school only to find out that something horrific happened at that supposedly safe place. Actually that would be true of most any situation, but it seems especially awful for parents and school children. Today's news brought back memories of your time at UCLA. In my mind's eye I can still see us on our first drive to UCLA back in 1989. How could I forget that parade of people dressed in black holding pictures of the Ayatollah Khomeini and shouting words that sounded menacing ...

June 1. The start of another month. Already one half of the year is gone. I really don't like that time seems to move so fast. I remember when my former husband used to go on deployment with the Navy. Long periods of time.  3 months, 6 months. This was before email, social media, and Facetime. I could usually expect a drunken phone call from some exotic port of call to tell me how much fun he was having. As you might guess, I was never real excited to get those calls. It was good to hear his voice and to have the kids talk him. It just wasn't the best way of communicating. If something bad happened, the only way to get word to him was via the Red Cross. These messages were reserved for "real" emergencies, not the icemaker flooding the kitchen floor, or how to remove the bar of soap the toddler crammed into the flusing part of the toilet. I'd like to say something like "young people today don't know how good they have it." But I won't for two reas...