I thought, “What an odd assignment, but I felt I was up to the task and I wanted to go.” I knew I had ideas to offer, but I couldn’t go empty handed. It’s just not me, as you will soon find out. I had a couple of days, so I began my strategy. I needed something that reminds everybody of feces without having to describe it. Humor is often the best instructor available. If it makes someone smile at the thought, they won’t likely forget it. Actually, every animal including humans produces feces, but how an I make them think of it?
“The Jerk” gave me an idea. Steve Martin (Navin Johnson) was adopted by a family of black sharecroppers. When he was about to leave his home, his black father took him into the farmyard to teach him a few things. “See that?” his father asked? “That’s shit. See this? This is Shinola.”
Navin replied as he was pointing to the ground, “Shit!” Then he pointed to the can his adopted father was holding and said, “Shinola!” Then he repeated himself to demonstrate that he knew the difference between Shit and Shinola.

When I thought about the task of developing a written description of feces, I knew I had a winner. Just as Navin’s Dad told him, “Son, you’re going to be all right!”, I knew I, too, was going to be all right! Suddenly, I had an idea I just had act on, but Shinola was no longer for sale or in production. I finally found it in an antique store in Fort Worth, Texas, but tripped and fell, breaking a couple of my ribs shortly after I had my new “prize”. Navin would have been proud of me! A painful event, I might add, but I had it! “I’m somebody!” I exclaimed to myself.
When I arrived at the describing meeting, we began straining on this important function, sort of like having a bowel movement… This is getting better and better, i.e. my bowel movement function I just talked about! I hadn’t planned on this nifty addition to my writings.
We spent three or four days trying to describe feces aka bowel movements, rectal excrement, crap, poop, stool, caca or shit if you will! This sounds like it would be easy, but it was much more difficult than it sounds.

The task of describing feces in layman’s terms was and still is a difficult task. Very similar to the difficulty one might have in describing water. There’s plain water which is the clear colorless liquid, odorless and tasteless when pure, that occurs as rain, snow and ice, forms rivers, lakes and seas, and is essential for life. Naturally occurring water picks up color and taste from substances in its environment. Water in its purest form is made up solely of two elements, hydrogen and oxygen. Water’s chemical formula is simply H2O.
There are many variations of water. There’s muddy water, cloudy water, colored water, clear and colorless water, running water, standing water, rain, snow, sleet, hail, fog, etc. See the difficulty?
Everyone knows where feces comes from, what it is, what it smells like, and on and on! I finally said, "We can't describe it because we don't have a standard!" They asked me. "What's the standard?" I said, "We can't describe avian feces, bovine feces, porcine feces, ovine feces, caprine fees, equine feces (I had no idea what species an ostrich is, so I said Ostrich shit), because we don't know "shit" from …wait a second.

I needed to produce my painful, but invaluable visual example which is “Shinola"! That's when I decided my name should be and will be (no shit) "DrShinola"! Let’s return to my book now that I’ve told you how I became known as “DrShinola”.
As clearly as yesterday, (must have been 7 or 8) I remember hiding behind the fence in back of the barn, (I did not want to be seen…) I was crying and praying for the calf's life as my step-father (Henry) worked calves through the squeeze chute. Each feeble calf would struggle frantically as it entered the squeeze chute only to have the solid steel walls cave in on each side and the head gate slam shut on its tender neck. The calf would assume the same stance a convicted felon on death row would show as he entered the electric chair or gas chamber. I remember seeing these death row inmates at the movies…
Then the injections began...then the branding as white smoke plummeted into the air, incinerating the hair and boiling the hide...then the knife castration...then the sawing off of the horns with blood spurting high into the air after the head was completely secured by an iron bar squishing its head into the head gate.
After the horns were sawed off, a hot branding iron was pressed onto the blood vessels to sear off or cauterize the bleeding...then the calf was given a bolus of big ol' pills...then the shot right in the eyelid for pinkeye...then the purple spray right into the eye.
As he would turn it loose in preparation for the next calf, Henry would jokingly exclaim, "I guess that one'll die!" as he made an expression of pain with his face, because of my reaction. Then he assumed an agonizing stance, just for my benefit. When the chute would open up to let the calf go, the calf would just stand there, shake its head in anguish after being vaccinated, branded, dewormed, deloused, treated for pink-eye, given antibiotics, sulfa-boluses, dehorned and castrated.
Then it would take off in a conquered trot. I was horrified for a moment, as I mentally tried to put myself through this rough handling. At that time I became amazed at the ability of each calf to recover quickly from this grisly ordeal. As millions of calves have undergone the same treatment worldwide, (and still do), I now realize that few suffer any long-term ill effects, but I took him seriously and prayed more earnestly for the calf's life than any preacher had ever prayed for a terminally ill human patient.
After Henry finished working the cattle through this nightmare, it was time to get back on the tractor. We had just finished cutting the wheat and we had a lot of plowing to do. Henry was a farmer and I was his helper, i.e. “his fuddler”. We raised wheat, cattle, maize, alfalfa and anything else to make money for the family.
As I climbed onto the tractor and sat down on the hot metal seat, I began to think of my background. I was still feeling sorry for the calves.
My real Dad had died when I was three years old. He was a pharmacist and owned the drug store in Groom, Texas. I spent my days going to all the local businesses and was well-known as “Stevie Boy”. The only vision of Dad I remember seeing is him dressed in grey slacks with a white shirt (sleeves rolled to the elbows) standing over the kitchen sink vomiting blood. Mom says this did not happen, but that is what I remember. While I was in veterinary school, I learned that uremia, which he died from, causes bleeding in the G. I. tract, confirming his death (to me) of his uremic poisoning due to kidney failure.

Since this is what I remember about my Dad dying, I guess I need to explain how this collection of my memories took place. In 1996, my sisters asked each sibling to write one of our favorite memories to be included as a memento for each of us in our family.
I struggled with this assignment for weeks. When the deadline drew near, I decided I would include many of the memorable events about my life. I could not limit myself to only one event. This is what I created. These events created me.

Memories of
Stevie Boy Stephenson, aka
Stevie Stephenson, aka
Steve Stephenson, aka
S. L. Stephenson, D. V. M., aka

DrShinola

MY MEMORIES

I decided that if I was ever going to get some of my memories on paper, I'd better make them short. I'm going to start by telling you mostly about growing up in the Groom. I have several more memories from college, being married, veterinary school, being a veterinarian and with my kids, Sarah and Stephen, which I will tell you about later in the book. All will be randomly listed as my memory is triggered with no particular order or reason. The reason for telling you all about my earlier years is to help you understand why I am like I am!

I was one content kid

I met my first girl friend, Gay Nell in the first grade. I used to smooch her picture! Wow… I thought she was beautiful! I was deeply in love, (of course I was only in the 1st grade.) My sisters had a pair of long white gloves I used to take to bed with me. That way I could dream about Gay Nell kissing me as she wore those long white gloves. That’s about as far as this love episode lasted as she moved away sometime that year. I was heartbroken. I remember telling myself, “No more women (well, girls) for me!”
I appointed myself as President of the local women haters club. I think I decided I needed to hate girls, because I could not imagine her being so cruel by moving away when I was so deeply in love with her. Of course, I had no idea what reason her parents had for moving a six year old out of my life! Who did they think they were? Grown-ups? I made Danny, my neighborhood best friend, the vice-president. I doubt if I ever told Danny why we started the women-haters club. He just went along with me. No questions asked.
Melody moved into my life when I was in the sixth grade. I had been president for nearly five years when I decided that girls really weren’t all that bad. She had boobs! In the sixth grade! Big ‘uns! Melody, too, was a beautiful girl.
One problem appeared that I had not really figured on with Melody. My step-father, Henry was an Elder in the church we attended and I could not comfortably date or eventually marry a Catholic. (Now really, I was a whopping 11 years old!) Things never did really work out with Melody and me. She had a really mean brother, named Larry, who hated me.

Larry was killed in the Vietnam War years later after we grew older. I used to dream about Melody while I was plowing. She’d come floating over the horizon wearing a beautiful dress and bringing me something to eat. I would then imagine taking her into my arms and kissing her passionately. I was some kind of a romantic, huh?
Well, marriage for me, an 11 year old was out of the question for me and Melody. When Beverly and her big brother Steve moved to Groom, my fascination with Melody came to a sudden stop. Melody really was pretty, but WOW, Beverly was gorgeous! Beverly had long beautiful blonde hair. She wasn’t interested in my, though. She was dating a fellow named Herbie, who I’ll discuss later on. Notice my never-ending desire to be with beautiful women?
I once asked Beverly to sit by me in the movie theatre in Groom and she said “Yes.” When I got to the movies, I was all “slicked up” and waited for her to arrive. Problem was, she never showed up! I was devastated for a week or so, then I fell in love again.

I discovered a girl named Twyla during the coldest, wettest winter I had ever experienced. I used to make plans during that winter of asking Twyla to go for a ride with me on my Harley Davidson M-50 when the weather warmed up to at least 40 degrees Fahrenheit.
I don’t think it ever reached the 40 degree temperature mark, even today. Twila was really smart and eventually became an Osteopathic physician. I don’t think we ever went out together, as it never warmed up! Time to move on…
I met Paulette through a friend of mine named James. James had been making trips to Panhandle which was 30 miles from Groom and asked me if I wanted a girlfriend. I said, “Yes” and he said, “Do you want to have a girlfriend that is either really good-looking, or one who is plainer looking?”
I said, “You can have the really good-looking one and I’ll take what’s left, as long as she ain’t too bad!” After our first double date, all roads led to Panhandle for several years. As it turned out, I fell deeply in love (again) and even asked Paulette to marry me. I was really serious and even bought a diamond ring for her! I was not a man with out a plan, and yes, I thought she was beautiful, too.
In 1969, I graduated from high school and was ready for college. Paulette was a year behind me in school, so she stayed in Panhandle while I was away. I spent my first year at Midwestern University in Wichita Falls, Texas. I became so lonely for Paulette I went home every weekend.
I darn near went broke driving back and forth from Wichita Falls to Groom and to Panhandle and to Amarillo or Pampa to take Paulette to the movies and to eat out. Gasoline was extremely expensive! I’d pull into a gas station and would immediately drive off. There’s no way I was going to pay $ 0.32 per gallon! Gas wars were common then and I was used to seeing gasoline in the $0.19 range. The cheapest I ever bought gasoline was $0.11 per gallon, and that’s where it should be. I can’t believe we’re paying $3.00 per gallon now. Unbelievable.
During one of my trips home later that year, Paulette announced to me that she wanted to live her own life and that we should break up. She said she wanted to be able to date other guys for events like the Senior prom, dances and so on.

I was completely taken by surprise and had no idea how to react. I finally figured I should go ahead and get it over with. I thought that at the current gas price of $0.32 per gallon, it was just as well. I took her home, followed her into her house and loaded up every single thing I had given her, including her diamond ring.
After the break up, I drove back to my apartment in Canyon, Texas. The more I thought about my dilemma, the madder I became. I hit my windshield so hard, it totally shattered, well, cracked badly. Luckily, it was shatterproof, but I had to drive the rest of the way with my head out the window so I could see. I felt like a dog riding with my head out the window.
I don’t really remember how I met Judy, but she was and still is a really nice girl. Judy was very sympathetic towards me and listened patiently as I cried about losing Paulette. I learned to like Judy, but never really felt like I loved her, so I would try to reunite with Paulette.
I invited Judy to a Christmas dinner at my house in Groom to meet my parents. I couldn’t stop grieving for Paulette, so I broke up with her and tried to get Paulette back into my life. (Yeah, right…) Good thing Paulette never responded favorably to my pleas.
Connie was Judy’s roommate and I met her while I was dating Judy. Wow, that was tough, as Connie was then and still is today, (I think) beautiful! I couldn’t hardly take my eyes off of Connie. I never found out her measurements, but I’ll bet they were pert-near perfect!
One day while I was visiting Connie, a pickup screeched to a stop outside their apartment. Pickup doors slammed shut and people started hollering at each other, then the fist fight began. Judy’s ex-boyfriend and his friend began beating up her new boyfriend. I ran outside and pulled them off and they started hitting me!
I started to slug him, but kept thinking about breaking my windshield after I ended it with Paulette. I didn’t want to kill the guy so I let him keep hitting me, but I did bob and weave a lot. I mean, I ain’t a dumb-ass, you know.
I asked Connie to marry me and she said yes! Connie and I had planned to elope, but didn’t think about our secret getting out, much less getting our marriage license published in the Amarillo paper. Cybil, Mom’s friend in Groom, found out about it and called Mom. We had a full church wedding 6 days later with all the trimmings thanks to Mom. Mom passed away in 2006, so I have to tell you of a few of my events with her…
When I was a kid, Mom used to tell me when I went outside how I had better not get my Sunday school clothes muddy. I took my clothes off and hung them on my tricycle while I jumped in a mud puddle. Didn't get my clothes dirty, well, I did get my underwear dirty. I was about 6 years old…
Carolyn, my sister and I played behind the drug store after a huge rain. I thought I could float across the mini-lake in a potato chip can and had to stand for hours behind the drug store while I dried out in the sun. Carolyn got a big kick out of my misery.
I remember the drunk showing up in Groom. He had no legs and rode a platform on wheels. He used pieces of wood and his arms to propel himself forward while his torso was on a piece of plywood with wheels underneath. I thought I saw a go-cart coming out of the drug store, so I ran down to look this apparatus over. I’d never seen anything like this before and I was really excited.

When I made it to the front of the drug store, I guess I made this guy extremely uncomfortable and he, without more ado, started screaming, "Look at me! Look at me! Make fun of me! Make fun of me!" Everyone thought my eyes were going to pop out. Carolyn and I hid in the upstairs in the drug store for awhile. Anything to get out of his sight and mind. I just knew he was going to kill me.
I made a soup to feed the same fellow, just in case he ever tried to traxk me down. It contained rotten vegetables, dog poop, gasoline, spoiled milk, chocolate (for flavoring), dirt, gravel, cigarette butts, dead sparrows, oil, etc. I guess it stunk so much he never came back to try it. I guess he figured he'd better not mess with me!
I remember having the mumps and being too sick to go to school, but not too sick to have a good time. I wanted to go out and play, because I wasn’t feeling that bad. I looked like I had two jaw breakers in my mouth when I looked in the mirror. I was really swollen up! I was home alone, so I called the drug store to ask if I could go outside. Mom said “No!”

I was really hacked off, so I threw my tinker toy can. It bounced around the living room and landed on the coffee table. The table had a glass top and it shattered the glass. “What have I done now?” I thought. I quickly came up with a solution. I lined up all my tinker toys and told Mom not to bother it, because I was making something special. It worked for about two weeks.
When I used to get in trouble, Mom would pull a belt out to spank me. Keep in mind, this was before child abuse laws, child protective services, etc. came into being. I'd get Mom laughing and the punishment wouldn't be so bad. I think that method is hereditary, because Stephen, my son used it very effectively on me.
When I was fixing to spank him, Stephen used to ask, “Wonder how Dolly Parton got two black eyes?” I knew better than to ask, “Why?”, but I couldn’t resist what I knew was coming. I’d say “No. Why?” He’d say, “From jogging!” Then we’d both laugh our heads off. This trick didn’t work with Connie.
Henry and I were our own worst enemies. I remember taking the engine on our Minneapolis Moline (the farm tractor) completely apart several times while Henry (my step-dad) and I tried to figure out why water was getting into the oil. We finally gave-up and took it to the mechanic and let him fix it.
I used to spend hours walking around the horse tank gathering snails. Henry called me his "fuddler." I was a good “fuddler”.
Maxine, my sister and Lynda, Maxine’s best friend once drove me into the country and made me kiss them on the cheek or I'd have to walk back. Boy, I hated that, but it was a long way back to town.
My first fishing trip with Henry, my step-father was in Canton, Oklahoma. It was great. We didn't have anything but a blanket, a pillow and a couple of fishing poles. We got there late at night and found a spot that looked ok, but it had lots of rocks. We unrolled our sleeping bags and laid there a few minutes, planning on going to sleep.
Henry was about to call it quits until I stretched and said, "Man, this is really living!" Henry just groaned and rolled over. On another fishing trip, we forgot our alarm clock and didn't have a watch. We both got up at the same time, looked at the horizon, saw a glow and decided to go into town to eat a quick breakfast so that we could start fishing early, early!

When we got to Canton, there was absolutely nobody around except a night watchman. We waved him down and asked him where everyone was. He told us it was 2:00 a.m. and they were all at home, except for him. We went back to the camp and slept until after 9:00 a.m. Then when we did start fishing, other fishermen were talking about how they had been biting like crazy earlier that morning. Later that day, the dam was opened. There was an old man with at least 999 fishing poles, (well, at least six), set up over the bridge. We asked if the fish were biting and he said, "No! Fishin' ain't no good around here, but they were sure biting earlier that morning." His fish stringer was full…
I used to get blamed for everything. One time, Mom blamed me for carving a game of tic-tac-toe on some wax fruit. About a year later, I was getting into trouble again and I told Mom that I didn't do it, just like I didn't play tic-tac-toe on the wax fruit. Carolyn finally owned up to it, but she didn't get into trouble.

I remember going to a church camp at Camp Blue Haven in New Mexico and getting so homesick that I was a blubbering idiot for the entire two weeks. Camp Blue Haven is a church camp. Remember Henry, my step father, the Elder? Where else could I have gone? Camp Blue Haven is in the mountains in New Mexico and is an absolutely gorgeous place. Mountains, creeks, rough terrain, etc. My cup of tea, so to speak.
During that particular visit to Camp Blue Haven, during a hike, I found a sack lunch that some camper had left behind on the same trail two weeks before. I really made fun of that dummy. We kept hiking and lunch time came around. Problem was, during my laughing and making fun of the kid who had left his lunch, I had picked his up and left my nice fresh one there! “Maybe,” I thought, “some kid will pick mine up and leave theirs behind for someone else and so on. I always have an answer for nearly every situation!
Carolyn had and still does have a friend named Patricia. Herby used to date Beverly, so I didn’t think a whole lot of him. Carolyn spent the night at her house, while I spent the night in a tent outside their house while it was raining. I was miserable, thinking that they were having the time of their life while I was cooped up in the stupid tent. I think they really had a good time. I didn’t…
On one of our many trips to Oklahoma with Mom and Carolyn, we drove Mom nuts by singing to the tune of “?”. For the life of me, I have no idea what song to tell you it reminds me of, but if I can’t think of it, maybe it will be on a best selling record label one of these days. We’d sing, “Oh, what's the next town? Oh, what's the next town? Oh, what's, what's, what's, what's, what's the next town?” These will be the words to this hit when it’s on the radio.
I saw my first "Body Shop" on one of those trips to Oklahoma and was horrified with the thought. I was thinking that they sold used arms, legs, eyes, etc. I looked that place over very carefully to see if I could see any body parts laying around. Never saw any…
On one of our trips to Oklahoma, Mom, Carolyn and I would take long walks down the farm roads. If Carolyn’s friend Vicki was walking, I really liked that. I thought she was gorgeous! And I was left worrying about ol’ “Tuffy Guffy”! I remember when we stayed in Oklahoma while Grandma was sick, Mom enrolled us in the Byron School because we were going to be there quite awhile.

While I was going to school in Byron, I became the target of "Tuffy Guffy". He hated me. I remember that I was the only kid in Byron who could march to the beat of the music in class. The other kids hated me for that, but not as badly as “Tuffy Guffy”.
My Dad had a brother named, “Carroll” who I called, “Uncle Carroll”. He was cool and used to show Carolyn and me magic tricks. My favorite was a disappearing coin using colored paper. He’d put a coin in a piece of paper, wrap it up inside another piece of paper, then another and then turn it over three times and it would disappear! Boy was I dumb. I really thought it worked! I didn’t know he had matching papers on the back of the original papers.
Ah, the memories just keep flowing in. If you’ve never done this, write a list of several memories as they come to you and keep adding more to it. It’s hard to stop, and just when you think you’re done, somebody will say, “I remember when you…” and you’ll have another unforgettable recollection to add to your compilation.

My first vehicle I drove was a yellow 1952 3/4 ton Chevrolet pickup. I could make it backfire like everything by driving it while revving it up in second gear, turning off the ignition until it would just about come to a stop, then turn the key on. Most cars would simply go "BANG", but this pickup sounded like Mount Carmel's 51st day in Waco, TX! Yeah, I’ll get into my veterinary stories when I finish telling a few more of my incidents, description, or series of events in a narrative that is part of the whole but may digress from the main plot. I’m having too much fun writing these things up! I looked up the word “events” to see how the dictionary identifies with me. Pretty good, huh?
I once chased a baby rabbit into a fenced-off corner in Mobeetie and fell through the ground into a septic tank. Henry made me ride home in the back of the pickup. He said I stunk…Yeah, I did…
I helped Henry build an addition to the house in Groom during the time he married Mom. We used to eat honey on crackers as a snack. I really didn’t help, because I had a lot of important “fuddling” to do. Remember, I was probably less than five years old!

Groom did not have a swimming pool, so we’d have to drive to White Deer to go swimming. We had to have pretzels afterwards. That was tradition. I remember so many details about different events.
I remember getting my coronet in the sixth grade and figuring out how to play the school song before school even started. I was pretty good! When school started, I played it for the band director and he was impeccably impressed. He couldn’t believe it and had me play it in front of the high school band as punishment for their not being able to. When I finished playing it from memory, he said, “If Stevie can play the school song, why can’t you? He’s in the sixth grade and only 12 years old!”
I made first chair coronet, but got beat out of first chair by Lanny. Lanny studied the notes and knew them by name. I simply knew when it sounded good. Lanny was better than me, so I wanted to switch from coronet to the trombone. The band director didn't want me to, as I was always coming up with a new twist on my music. He enjoyed working with me.

When he moved away, a new band director moved to Groom so I asked him if I could switch. He reviewed the previous band director’s notes and asked me if I had ever played the trombone. I said, “No, but it sounds like it would be fun.” He said if I could play the trombone and play him a song the next day that I could switch. I switched the next day.
Our new band director had an idea which turned out to be a “hoot”. While we were marching, I would start marching in a different direction and would start playing whatever I wanted to play. The drum major would stop the band, come yell at me and tell me, “You better stop messing around and march WITH the band and PLAY THE MUSIC WE’RE PLAYING!” So we’d start marching again and off I’d go playing songs I liked and showed off in front of the stadium crowd. She’d stop the band and come holler at me some more, only much louder.
Then she said, “If you mess around one more time, I’m going to kill you! You’re messing everyone up and you’re an embarrassment to the Groom Tigers!” I acted like I was really sorry, but when the band started marching and playing again, off I’d go… She stopped the band and ran over to me and pulled out a fake gun and shot me deader n’ a hammer!
I just laid there and the school ambulance drove across the football field and stopped between me and the stands. The crowd couldn’t see me because of the ambulance. They loaded my trombone and put it in the ambulance and drove off. I quickly recovered and ran like a maniac trying to catch the ambulance, because I was the injured party, not my trombone. The crowd thought it was hilarious!
When I got in high school Lanny and I were selected to be in the National FFA band! I have no idea how or why I was chosen, but I was. Lanny was good enough that I knew why he was selected. He was just good! The music we were sent to practice on had one part that was really high pitched and very fast. I practiced it to perfection and as luck would have it, the band director had us to try out using that piece of music. I blew everyone else out of their chairs.
I got first chair out of over 25 trombone players and I couldn't even read music. I played by sight, position and sound. If it sounded good and in tune to me, it was good and in tune. The second chair trombone freaked out when the band director told me to play my G-sharp and I asked him which line it was on.
While I was in high school, Lanny started a band called the "Constellations". We played Herb Alpert’s Tijuana Brass music. My sister, Carolyn, arranged for us to play for the Area FHA convention in Amarillo. There were close to 3,000 girls who treated us like the Beatles! All of the band groups were told to be able to play no more than 15 minutes worth of music. We were about 7th in line and all the other bands had guitar players and they could sing. We played our three songs and left the stage. No singing, just strictly instrumental music.
The girls “booed” the following bands off and screamed for us to return! Yes, we were good! I think we played for about an hour before the girls had to leave. Wow, I can now imagine what the Beatles went through! Lanny teaches band in a high school now. He still plays very, very well! I doubt if I could even blow a note, but give me day or so and I’ll play a song for you!
Danny’s dad used to give me and his boys a burr haircut in the spring. We all thought we were some cool looking dudes. I had really big ears, but I could wiggle them, so I was cool, too.
Sue owned the Groom cleaners and she’d tell me she was going to adopt me, because I thought she was neat and she liked me.
Mom and Maxine tricked me into going home from the drug store, grabbed me tightly as we walked right past the Chevy to go get a shot at the doctor’s clinic. They had to start dragging me as soon as I realized what was about to happen. I really hated shots. Still do.
I remember collecting the state disks from Val-O-Milk candy, the best candy in the world! Cadbury Eggs top the list now.
I remember the horror on Mom's face when Dr. Levy diagnosed my diabetes. I doubt if anyone counted grams of the different food groups like Mom. When I went into the hospital to learn how to give myself shots and how to eat right, I weighed about 98 pounds. When I was released from the hospital two weeks later, I weighed 138 pounds!
Before I was diagnosed with diabetes, I could probably have eaten more than Hulk Hogan. I would sit down after school and eat an entire loaf of whole wheat bread (toasted) with butter and still be hungry for supper. I couldn't go a single hour without having to get a drink of water and go to the bathroom. Car trips were miserable, as Mom and Henry used to get really annoyed at me for having to stop the car to use the bathroom and get a drink so much.
I played football in Jr. High. The football team went to close by towns in our school district, and their teams would come and play on our football field in Groom, too. We made one trip to Shamrock for a football game, but they weren’t in our school district and they had much larger players than Groom had. I was up against a huge guy, so I made a deal with him that if he left me alone, I'd sure stay out of his way. I'm not so sure that everyone else on the team didn't make the same deal. We lost which was not uncommon.
During Gaylord’s (the preacher) sermon one Sunday morning really touched me. I wanted to be baptized, but had not really talked it over with Mom and Henry. I sweated that entire afternoon thinking that if the world should come to an end, I'd be going to Hell. Not once did I think about me dying. The world was going to come to an end. I got baptized that night.
I had a Hampshire sow in high school. I'd ride her up and down the alley just like a horse. No wonder she never really had a decent litter of pigs, but she sure looked cool (black and white) when I’d scrub the mud off her.

My best friend in school was Gary. He was severely retarded and was tongue tied. When he'd get into trouble, I had to go with him to be his interpreter. I always got him out of trouble with my version of what he said. You could ask him to say, “girl.” He’d say, “tool.” Ask him to say, “school” and he’d say, “”tool.” Then ask him to say , “schoolgirl” and he’d say, “tooltool.” Made perfect sense to me, but nobody else could understand what he meant to say. Since nobody knew what he was saying, I never let him get into trouble!
Gary had a cousin, Robbie which was several years younger than me. The kids in that family were either severely retarded or were classified as near genius. Robbie was in the third grade and I was in high school. He was in the genius category. He stayed up with me one night while I was delivering pigs and I taught him how to play chess. After 3 games, we would reach a stale mate almost every time.
While I was in about the third grade, I was picked to be the entertainment during the intermission at a high school play. I dressed like an old man and sang "This Old House". I had a fake beard, overalls and went out all bent over and really hammed it up. I had a standing ovation and had to sing it again!
I spent one night with Ray, another friend of mine, when I was in high school. He woke me at 2:00AM and wanted me to give him a haircut. All he had were hog shears. He went to school the next day completely bald. It started out as a regular haircut, but since I’d never cut hair before and I had sort of butchered it, we decided to cut all of his hair off. His girlfriend didn't like me from that day forward.
My favorite video of all times has got to be, "A Christmas Story" based on a novel, "In God We Trust, All Others Pay Cash." Once you see it, you'll know why. I relate to Ralphie.
Jimmy and I went out after church one Sunday to "lay a strip of rubber"
with his Chevy. We were going about 30 mph in reverse, threw it into first gear and BAM! The transmission gears started falling out onto the pavement. We were stupid enough to think that we could fix it. We finally found a discarded transmission and worked for several hours on another unsuccessful venture.

In my pre-teen years, I remember my wonderful sisters making fudge and locking me out of the kitchen. I loved fudge, but they weren’t going to let me have any! I took a butcher knife and whittled on the dining room chair. Mom kept the chair as evidence.
When a second grader got into trouble, a lot of the time the punishment was to go sit in the first grade for an hour or so. I spent a few hours visiting the first grade. I thought I was hiding, but Maxine saw my name on the back of my belt. She was 10 years older than I am.
Each morning in grade school, I would stop by Mr. Reno's office (he was the principal) and would wiggle my ears for him. If you got into trouble in the third grade, you had to spend time standing in the hall.
Yeah, I got to stand in the hall quite a bit. I would wiggle my ears for Mr. Reno when I was standing out there. He enjoyed my punishment!
In high school, Ray and I went hunting and shot at a decoy in a lake until it sunk. Ray had some solid lead shotgun shells that would shoot one single bullet which weighed about as much as 10 or 20 - 22 shells. Yeah, we sunk a duck!

I remember plowing with the one-way. It’s called a one-way, because you could only turn the tractor one direction. If you turned the wrong direction, the tractor tires would run into the tires on the plow. A 7 or 8 foot tractor tire meeting with a 2 foot plow tire wasn’t a pretty site.
I turned the correct direction one time, too tight and the brace bar caught on the lug of the tractor tires and the entire plow was standing straight up above the tractor. When Henry saw that from the pickup, I’d bet you that he ran those 50 yards in world record time! I’ll bet the plow weighed at least 3,000 pounds and it was standing on end at a 90 degree angle to the soft ground that I had just plowed.
I used to go to the junkyard with John and shoot 22's at bottles for target practice. He had brought some M-80's (firecrackers) and they started the junkyard on fire. We tried to use our Levi jackets to beat the fire out and spilled 22 shells on the ground. The bullets fell out of out pockets as we beat the burning bushes. They started shooting everywhere due to the fire, so we took cover behind more junk in the junk yard. Now I know what the Branch Dividians felt like.
In college, I worked for a local veterinarian. He needed to haul a load of pigs to East Texas. I told him, “Yeah, I can drive that truck and trailer to East Texas for you.” I left Canyon, Texas on this trip to deliver the pigs. We didn’t have any trouble, until we got down the road quite a ways and were very, very tired. We drove through a small rain storm and here’s what happened. The truck jackknifed, ripped a butane hose off of the tank and caught the butane on fire. The truck ran on butane and not gasoline. Jimmy and I were extremely lucky that we didn't get seriously hurt. Not a scratch. That tank blew up like a bomb. Traffic was stopped and some nut asked me if he could help. I said, “sure”. Little did I know he meant, “Can I open the trailer doors and let the pigs out?”
Needless to say, we spent the next several hours chasing pigs all over East Texas. A couple of guys who were helping corral the pigs started telling each other how much they were going to be charging for their help. I said, “There’s no way I’m going to pay you guys that much money.”
Well, the police were standing right there and he instructed me to pay the man. Needless to say, I had to empty my pockets and sign a paper that I’d mail them the rest when I got home.
I castrated a calf and stretched its scrotum over my pickup gearshift knob and let it dry. I had a fur-lined gear shift knob! Girls wouldn't hardly ride in my pickup when I told them what it was.
I had a job running the movie projectors at the Groom theatre. What a loser that deal was, but I got to see the movies for free, and I got a discount on pop corn and cokes!
I had another job in the meat market in Groom. They hired me as a joke, thinking that I wouldn't last long. Turned out that I could out work them! Nobody has ever seen water fights like we used to have. We are still all really good friends today.
Little Willie, another retarded kid, would work at the meat market for a package of liver or hamburger rather than money. I caught him using lard for hair cream. Being “all slicked up” fit his description perfectly.
I would help build shocks out of bundles of cane in October and Henry paid me so I could go to the Halloween Carnival. A “shock” looks like a teepee, and the rain simply dripped off so it was an ideal way to store cattle feed in the fields. I just knew I could fly like Superman, and these shocks provided a safe, soft landing site for me when I would come back to Earth.
Henry and I built miles and miles of barbed wire fence. We dug all the post holes by hand and used the pickup to tighten the wires between the posts. Henry built the strongest corner posts around. They never budged. I’ll bet money they are still in good shape!
I had my acceptance letter to veterinary school framed and it still hangs in my home office, along with my degrees and my real Dad’s diplomas from Pharmacy School.
Maxine, my oldest sister would take me to the dentist in Pampa for fluoride treatments. I was out of there in less than 5 minutes and she wouldn’t believe I went in.
On one of my fishing trips, while Henry was renting the gear for the boat I caught a nice catfish while the boat was still on the bank. We thought this is going to be a great fishing trip. That poor fish committed suicide, as he was the only one we caught. To make matters worse, we drug him to death and had to throw him away.
I experienced deep sorrow during a funeral for Ed, my dog. Ed was about the dumbest dog I’ve ever seen, but I still hated it when he died.
One of the most moving days I ever had was when Connie and I were feeling especially uncomfortable and miserable in church when Sarah and Stephen both went forward to be baptized, September 6, 1992.
Danny and Jerry and I picked up all the shingles, nails and trash around the Golden Spread Motel after they got a new roof when we were just kids. After a long days work, the owner paid us 50 cents and a rotten peach. I gave him the 50 cents back and told him he probably needed it worse than I did. I was extremely insulted by his lousy pay.
On hot summer days, I would hike to George’s farm and go swimming in his horse tank. Then I’d have to pick off the leeches.
On Larry’s farm, while Larry was out in a pasture, a Bobcat was running and was apparently looking somewhere else and ran right into and over Larry. He was bitten and scratched and then had to take the rabies shots right in his belly! That was awful! Having to take the shots, not being bitten and scratched by a bobcat.
Henry used to smoke like a freight train. Yeah, I tried smoking cigarettes, but couldn’t stand the smell of ‘em. Still hate cigarettes!
I remember fighting with Carolyn, because "She's looking at me!" "Well, he's looking at me!" One time during a fight with Carolyn, she made me so mad that I gave her “the finger.” She ran inside the house and wanted me to show Mom what a terrible thing I had done. What, am I nuts? I wasn't about to show Mom. It was my word against hers. "Did!" "Did not!"
Don, another friend of mine, well, actually he was kind of a ‘dork’ got into big trouble when he snuck into the neighbor’s garage and started a lawnmower over a bag of dry cement dust. Their garage looked like it was on fire from the outside.
I have always hated shots. I watched as Carolyn got a shot between her toes by the foot doctor. I fainted dead away. That ain't no place to be getting a shot!
I remember washing and waxing several family cars. That was something to do in Groom, Texas. Our family had the cleanest and shiniest cars in town!

When I was in high school, Henry drove me to Amarillo to look at cars. I bought my new car for $2,995.00! I looked at Corvette Stingrays and told them they’d never get $5,000.00 on any one car. I had the coolest looking set of “wheels” around. I had a bright yellow Ford Fairlane that I kept spotless and always shiny with no fingerprints allowed.
One day, Mom, Marlys and Larry went on a short trip. I was bored, so I washed and waxed Larry's Mustang. He let me take it on a date!
My back bedroom was the dumpsite of the house. I hated all that disorganization. Now, I'm a compulsive picker-upper.
While I was going to Midwestern University in Wichita Falls, my step-sister, Marlys lived in Dallas with her husband Larry. She’d write to me in school and tell me to come see them any time. “No time like now,” I thought. I rode with a friend who lived in Fort Worth. We drove about half way, and I tried to call them again. I never called them before I left. When I finally got Marlys on the phone, she told me they were going out of town. Time for plan B.
After I hung up, I had him drop me off at the bus station.

I’m a diabetic, and it was time for supper, so I ordered a hamburger. After I finished my meal, I paid and went walking, waiting for the bus to leave. No real place to go, so I went back to the bus station. I was bored, so I decided to go ahead and buy my ticket.
The fare was $1.50, and I had spent all of my cash on supper, so I pulled out my checkbook.
“Oh, we don’t take checks,” the lady said.
I said, “I need to buy my ticket, and I have no cash. You’ll have to take a check.”
She said, “We’ve heard that before, so you’ll have to pay cash.”
Now, here I was, a college student with my suitcase, a duffle bag full of dirty laundry and my books. I said for her to call my banker, but she wasn’t going to make a long distance phone call to call up a “fake” banker. I walked all over that town trying to cash a check for a lousy $1.50 and no one would cash it! I finally called the college bible chair and had someone come and pick me up. When I told Mom about my ordeal, she was blistering mad and called up the bus company and registered a very valid complaint.

In high school, I took a chemistry course and found for formula for nitro-glycerin. Wow! After I put the appropriate chemicals together, I put a cork on the test tube and walked very, very slowly to the bathroom. I carefully put the lid down on the toilet and stood up and used an eye dropper to see if it would explode when drops of my nitro hit the floor. Luckily, I wasn't a very good chemist as my personal presence proves.
I traded a miniature football for a collie I named Chris. Chris was a collie and was a good looking dog. Smart, too. I remember when Chris got run over by a car he was chasing and dying. As I look back from a veterinarian's perspective, I honestly think I could have saved him.
Red and Ed were two other dogs I had. Red was the best dog I think I ever had as a kid. Ed was rather obnoxious and really dumb, but Red liked him. I guess since Red liked Ed, I should like him, too. Patricia and Herbie had a dog named “Tippie”. Red used to get into fights with Tippie all the time. Ed never did. He was a chicken, and did I mention he was dumb?
I remember hauling cattle back and forth to Mobeetie in a pickup and trailer. That’s why I had told the veterinarian I could haul his pigs for him to East Texas.
I drove Mom crazy with my Harley Davidson M-50. She had discussed sending me to a military school for rowdy kids, but never did.
I got a bicycle for Christmas one year. It was a warm day, so I took it outside. I asked Mom, "What do I do now?"
I kept the cattle chute full while Henry worked the cattle, when I wasn’t busy “fuddling”.
When we owned the drug store, Tom, the Candy Man would give me candy samples. He asked me if I would ride the elephant from the Carnival in town. I told him, "No. My Momma never would let me ride an elephant."
Seniors always had to leave their mark on their town. I made my mark by climbing to the top of the water tower and spray painted “SR-69” on it. The local constable pulled me over while I laid a strip of rubber on the highway. The next day he came into the meat market where I was working and said, “You weren’t speeding last night, were you? Just like you didn’t paint the water tower?!”

I remember my very first (and only) criminal offense. Time to “fess-up”. Ray and I decided it was time to test the ‘criminal life’, so we decided to break into the local filling station on main street! If we got caught, it wouldn’t be too serious, because it was closed anyway. Obviously, there was nothing inside that we could see through the windows. We decided we would break into the restroom instead. We were seniors in high school, and Ray was drunk. I hated the taste of beer, so I was 100% sober. We wedged open the top window, climbed inside and decided we’d steal the rubber machine.
We pried, hammered, sawed and finally got it off the wall. Then we loaded it into Ray’s El Camino and took it into the country to see what we had stolen. To our delight, we split 200 rubbers and $16.00 in quarters! I hid mine in a bank and put it under a dresser in my bedroom. Later on, I found it and opened the bank to check my “stash” and it was empty! “Oh, Man!”
A few months later, the town whore came up pregnant and we were talking about it at supper. Mom asked, “Did you do it?” I knew right then and there who had found my rubbers. No, I didn’t do it!

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