My Life As A Hobby

There are some people who just have a knack for doing certain things better than everyone else.  For example, when it comes to buying cars, my friend Richard Petty is one of the best. No, it’s not that Richard Petty.   But it’s no coincidence that his name is synonymous with automobiles because this man can negotiate car deals.   If buying new cars was an Olympic sport, he’d be a gold medalist.   He just finished purchasing one yesterday, and I truly wished he’d worn a GoPro camera.   Fortunately, I did get a blow by blow account of the proceedings via live texts he was sending me.   I was entertained for a couple of hours.  I’m sure after he’s finished striking a deal Richard has to smoke a cigarette.  He’s like a vampire. I don’t think he needs the vehicle, he just periodically needs to feed off an automobile salesman.  Unlike most carbon based life forms who detest buying cars and haggling with salespeople, Richard loves it.  Storie...

During the sixties I was a kid growing up in Birmingham.  And downtown was the center of my universe.  I’m sure it’s difficult for millennials to comprehend a world without malls or upscale strip centers.  But back then that was the reality. Air conditioned food courts, fountains, indoor merry go rounds, and  Cinnabons were unimaginable.  The suburbs did have a few shopping centers with grocery stores, drug stores, and five & dimes, but to do any serious shopping you went to downtown Birmingham.  Of course that involved visiting the two retail icons of that era:  Loveman’s and Pizitz.   These department stores had everything. We always bought my annual Easter outfit here.  I got my hair cut at Loveman’s.  Both stores had great sporting goods departments, restaurants, and their toy sections were unmatched. If Pizitz or Loveman’s didn’t have it, you didn’t need it.  Our family made a pilgrimage to Loveman’s every Christmas season ...

  In a way, it’s part circus - complete with a barker and strange onlookers.  It can be loud and raucous. The only thing missing is a bearded lady.  I’m talking about an auction, and I attend them regularly.   Since I have a couple of booths in an antique mall, auctions and estate sales are important sources of inventory for me.   And they’re fun!   I enjoy watching the people. And of course, bidding wars are always entertaining. It’s amazing what people buy when they get caught up in the emotion of the hunt.  If you go to an auction and intend to participate, keep in mind that there are a few rules you need to be aware of.  Break one at your own peril.   The first rule: be careful not to do anything that the auctioneer might interpret as bidding.  At one auction I got the hiccups and bobbed my head a number of times.  I ended up spending $95 on a ball point pen.  The second and most important rule is one that I break ...

  I just got through watching one of those UFO programs on the Discovery Channel.  It’s embarrassing to admit I periodically look at these things, because I think of myself as being reasonably intelligent.   And I certainly don’t have the characteristics of a UFO abductee, because my home doesn’t have wheels on it.  But they have always fascinated me.  Even when I was a kid, I would frequently buy UFO books and magazines with my allowance.   In fact, I can still remember one of the articles I read over 50 years ago. It told readers how to make a fake UFO using simple household items like a dry cleaning bag, birthday candles, and drinking straws.  According to the author, you could easily create a balloon that would drift high in the air with an unearthly glow.  For whatever reason, that resonated with me.  Maybe it’s because boys always like the idea of building something that can fly.  Or perhaps I wanted to do my own personal version o...

  If you drive by my house and see me cutting grass on a raggedy riding mower that looks like it came from Fred Sanford’s junk yard, please don’t laugh. It didn’t always look that way.  Once it was a beautiful Cub Cadet lawn mower that would’ve been the envy of any homeowner. But, there was an incident that changed all that - the kind that always seems to happen to me.   I don’t think this one was all my fault.  That being said, I can face the facts. The truth is that I have a penchant for accidents, and screw ups. Everybody knows it.  Carol’s Dad, a master of dry acerbic wit, once said when I walked in his house, “Come on in, Joe. Make yourself at home. Break something.”  That’s a hard reputation to overcome.   The lawnmower still runs, although it looks awful. Now the plastic hood cowl isn't attached to the body.  It’s sitting under my deck in a contorted, twisted shape that would look perfect in a Picasso painting. The front is burned. Bot...

People in the South have long have long memories, especially if they think they have been wronged.   From the War of Northern Aggression, to a controversial play in the Iron Bowl, even bad service at a Cracker Barrel - nothing is ever forgotten. I can’t count the number of times my wife has reminded me that I forgot to buy her a homecoming corsage - in 1974.       Sometimes when there are issues that involve family, time doesn’t heal the wound, it only makes it fester. Unfortunately, I know this is true.   I can remember my mother and my aunt arguing over who was going to get my grandmother’s Hoosier cabinet - whatever that is.  It seemed so stupid.  After Mom died, my siblings agreed that we would not fight about who got what.  It’s not worth it, all of us said.  Sadly, that pact was broken by my brother and one of my sisters over some of Mom’s jewelry and Dad’s Purple Heart.   However, where blood kin is concerned, words, bot...

Its 86 degrees at the lake and I’m sitting, sweating, and swearing.  I’m miserable. That’s because 86 degrees is the indoor temperature.   You see, on one of the hottest,   humid streaks of summer imaginable, the air conditioner in my little house has decided to quit cooling. And the fans and portable AC unit I’m running ain’t helping a lot.   What’s worse, I suppose my heating and cooling guy has decided I have leprosy - he’s barely returning my calls and texts.   In fact, when I finally talked to him he told me he couldn’t make it   because he had to go to a funeral home that had AC problems.   I’m not sure who complained, but I guess someone at a visitation must’ve said it was hotter than hell and upset the deceased’s family.  As I lay in an ever expanding pool of sweat, I begin to wonder about all of us.  We have become soft. I was almost out of high school before we had air conditioning in my house, and we somehow managed.  Usually...