Jay's Musing

Saturday, April 30, 2005

Come On Boy, Let's Go Duck Hunting

Ambling Along

Come On Boy, Let's Go
Duck Hunting

by Jay Hudson

"Come on Jay, let's go duck hunting," said my friend's, Chester, and Slick.

" All of us are going after work," said Chester. " Slick, me, Ricky, Archie, Clyde, and the Preacher too. I want you to go so you can see how I handle my new twelve gauge automatic."

" Nope, can't do it," I said. " I quit hunting when I was eighteen years old. That last time, I shot a squirrel, and when it fell to the ground, it had a ear of corn in a death grip in it's little mouth. It bothered me so much that I quit hunting for good.

I know you yahoo's are just going to play cowboy's and ducks."

All these fellows were my co-workers at the cottonmill.

" Aw come on Jay. Go with us," said Chester, again. " Ricky know's where this pond is that's full of ducks about sundown every day. More ducks than you can shake a stick at. It'll be just like, well, shooting ducks, hah hah hah," he laughed. " The ducks will be flying in to the pond. The sun will already be set. You can't miss 'em. Ricky says they's so many coming in to land that you can fire five shots and have time to re-load again."

" Nope, I ain't goin. I made up my mind, I told you," I said again.

" Well, you'll be sorry when you see all the ducks we get this evening," said Chester. " The game warden don't even know about this pond, it's so far off the road, hah hah hah," he laughed again.

Ricky and Chester were both natural born talkers. Either one could just about talk the ducks into landing in a convenient spot.

Chester was a talker alright, but he had a serious weakness. He was very susceptible to smooth talker's like he was. If one came along and suggested they do some fool thing, most likely, Chester was ready to go do it right then.

That's how it started. Ricky got Chester fired up so bad talking about all those ducks, Chester bought a new twelve gauge just to hunt ducks.

I don't know how I was able to avoid going with them.

They talked about it all week. Everytime one of them came to the supply room, they mentioned it, but I was determined not to give in, and I didn't.

It was a Friday, and they were going just before dark. I said bye to them all as our shift ended.

I didn't think about duck hunting the rest of the weekend. I didn't see any of them until we went back to work Monday morning.

Chester was the first to meet me as our shift went to work. He was walking with his head down and a dejected look on his face.

I knew something bad had happened.

" Jay, I done messed up real bad," said Chester, waving his hands as he talked. "We all drove down to the pond Friday, just like we said we was going to do. The pond was at least a mile off the highway. They was only one little old dirt road into the pond. The sun was just setting when we pulled up to the water. Soon as I got out of the car, here they come , hundreds of ducks, ducks everywhere. The sky done turned black they was so many ducks. Me and Slick was on the left side, and Ricky, Preacher, Archie, and Clyde was on the right."

"We all a blasting away at 'em. Ducks falling everywhere around us. I killed five, and had to reload. I shot three more before they scattered. I put my eight ducks in the floor of the car and hollered to Slick, " boy we sure nailed 'em good , didn't we Slick? We better get out of her now."

" Everbody was already piled in their car's by then. Ricky, and Preacher were in the lead going back out the dirt road."

Jay you ain't gonna believe this, but the game warden was sitting at the end of the dirt road waiting on us. He had the road blocked so we couldn't run. I don't know how he knew about us, but he did. He gave tickets to all of us. He took all our guns, and the ducks too. I need your help real bad, Jay. We got to go to court Wednesday morning. Could you loan me fifty dollars to pay the fine? The game warden said the fine would be fifty dollars. I'll pay you back next Thursday."

" I guess I can loan you the money Chester," I said. " I told you that was a fool thing to do, didn't I ?"

I loaned Chester the money to pay his fine, and he paid me back just like he said he would. The other cowboy's were real quiet. They didn't talk about duck hunting for a couple of weeks.

That was the last time Chester went hunting.

Copyright-(c)-Jay Hudson- All rights recerved. No reproduction or transmission by any means without expressed written permission of Jay Hudson.

Wednesday, April 20, 2005

Drugstore's, Apple's, and Banana's

Drugstores, Apple's, and Banana's, Ain't What They Used To Be.

Ambling Along

by Jay Hudson

Have you ever called your local drugstore to speak to a pharmacist? Have you done so recently?

I was having a problem with the dosage of a medicine, so I called the drugstore where I shop to ask a pharmacist if I could break the tablet in half.

Just a simple question.

I wanted to be sure because some pills say, " Do Not Break, Crush, or Chew : Swallow Whole."

The attendant who answer's the phone at the pharmacy is the one that also passes out the potion's and collect's the money. They don't have time to talk to people like you and I. They are very busy running the cash register, you know.

The attendant is a very nice person. When I told her I needed to speak to a pharmacist, she said "Ok, I'll put you on hold and ring the pharmacist."

I waited about ten minutes, which is about nine and a half minutes longer than I usually wait for anything. After ten minutes, I just hung up the phone. At least I got to talk to the attendant.

I decided to call another equally popular drugstore, I mean, they were both national chain drugstore's.

When the connection was made, I heard a very pleasant voice say, " thank you for calling ------Pharmacy. We are proud to give you friendly, efficient, PERSONAL service on all your pharmacy needs."

" If you are a customer with cash money, press one now."

I knew I was in trouble already.

"If you are a physician, press two."

I could'a been a doctor, you know, but I don't like the sight of blood.

"If you know what you want, press three."

I don't call anyone unless I know what I want.

"If you need assistance , press four now."

I've been waiting for a chance to say," help, I've fallen, and I can't get up." I hope it's not anytime soon though.

" If you would like to speak to a pharmacist, press five now, or continue to hold. We play music for your enjoyment while you are on hold."

I would just as soon listen to the hum in the telephone line if I have to wait over thirty second's.

"Thank you, we appreciate your business."

I just put the phone down. You can't fight the times we are living in.

Well, the day wasn't a total loss.

I decided to drive in to town to get a 25 cent drink at my favorite vending machine. While I was in town, I remembered we were out of bananas, so I circled back to my favorite little mini-chain grocery store. They have the best tasting bananas in the Carolina's.

These are the mouth-watering kind we had fifty years ago, way before the banana king's decided to create a hybrid banana that is a cross between cardboard, and squash. And they taste that way too. They have the audacity to advertise these thing's on TV.

My favorite banana's had a sticker on them that I have never seen on banana's. "These banana's have not been gassed," it said. It never occurred to me that some companies gas their banana's like apple processor's do.

I was pleased to know that my favorite banana's are not gassed.

I know about apple's.

It's a common practice for producer's to gas apple's and chill them to keep them from rotting in storage and in transit. The last time I heard about apple gas, it was a gas called aylar. I guess it's still the same. I never looked up the information to see exactly how they gas them though. I just love to eat apple's, I don't want to know how they are made.

Many years ago I read a news story about apple's. Some fellow figured out if he waxed his apple's, and gave them a shine, he would sell more apple's. It must work too, because I eat a lot of apples, but only when they are half price.

I know grocery stores always keep produce in a cool room so it won't rot until you are leaving the checkout, but I have never seen a "non gassed" sticker on banana's until this week.

Maybe that's one of the reason's my favorite banana's taste sweeter than the other brands.

Copyright-(c)- Jay Hudson-All right's reserved. No reproduction without expressed written permission.

Thursday, April 14, 2005

Lampooned In a Cotton Mill

Ambling Along

Lampooned In a Cotton Mill

By Jay Hudson

The people that made the National Lampoon movies ought to make a movie about living and working in a textile mill in the South. Mill's, such as we had in North and South Carolina, were like small towns inside a large building filled with machines and people. Anything could happen, and frequently did when you had over nine hundred people working in a mill.

Old Chevy Chase would look nice as a cotton mill cowboy with a tool belt hanging on his hip and wearing that devilish grin he has. He would also need a mouth full of chewing tobacco, and a head full of lint to complete his outfit.

Most everything that happened in a small town , also happened in the cotton mill's. There were lot's of pranks, lot's of preacher's, lot's of preaching, sometimes fighting, a lot of cussing, and lot's of loving.

The preaching could be one of several different denominations too. It just depended on who cornered you first.

I never heard tell of anyone being murdered in a cotton mill, but it probably happened somewhere in the South.

One fight that I remember was between Preacher B., and another loomfixer. I don't know what caused the fight, but it was funny to see a tall, skinny, red-faced preacher with tatoos all over his arms, swinging a picker stick at another loomfixer. He was doing everything but cussing. Both men were swinging wildly like two cave men with clubs going after each other. I don't recall either one getting hurt though.

Loomfixer's were in demand, so when one got fired for misbehaving, he was usually rehired the very next day by a supervisor on another shift.

Boy's don't really grow up do they?

As for the hanky panky, I saw plenty of that too. A lot of stuff went on in dark corners and outside the building. Several enterprising lovers always went outside and climbed the ladder to the third story roof. I guess they enjoyed looking at the stars at night. These people were married too, but not to each other.

It got so bad that one fellow called the mill every night at ten minutes after shift change and asked me to go in the weave room and see if his wife had actually come to work. He called every night for over a year. I got so tired of it that, for the first time in my life, I started lying, "yeah, she's here John Henry. I just saw her in the weave room." I hadn't gone anywhere to check.

All phone calls to the mill were routed to the supply room each day when the front office people went home. That's why I was always answering the phone. One fellow called there and said he knew I was running around with his wife and he was going to get me. I don't know where he got his information, but it was false. I was 18 years old and never had a date yet.

If the looms happened to be running bad, all the fixers blamed the humidity man. The looms had to have the air humidity at about 75% in order to run properly witout a lot of breakdowns.
It had to be in a very narrow range from 70% to 78%. If it wasn't, the looms broke down constantly, and the fixers started cussing the humidity man. It was that mans job to keep the humidity at the proper level.

The funniest incident I know of actually concerned me. I was working the second shift at the time. The mill was running six days a week, Monday through Saturday, and I was a young fellow that wanted to get out of the mill early on Saturday night. The company had provided showers for the men who wanted to bathe before going home. The shower was a large room with multiple shower heads so several people could shower just like in a sports complex.

I only remember two of us that ever took a shower there, me, and a loom fixer named Andrew Moss. Old Andrew was a salty old fellow, older than my dad. I think he was a WWII veteran who had seen it all and done it all.

His luck was about to change. He had only known me for a short while.

One Saturday night, I decided to skip my shower and take off about thirty minutes earlier than usual. That would have been fine, except I had to turn out all the lights in the supply room and the showers before I left. All the lights were controlled by a single breaker switch in the supply room. Old Andrew was bare naked in the showers when I turned all the lights off. I had forgotten that he might be taking a shower that night. I don't know how he ever found his towel to dry off with in the dark.

Have you ever tried to find your clothes and dress in complete darkness?

By Sunday afternoon, word had already come to me that Andrew was telling people that he was going to cut my throat as soon as he saw me on Monday evening. I was worried too. I thought the old booger was really going to try to cut my throat.

When I got to work the next Monday afternoon, everybody was coming around to the supply room and asking me, " has Andrew been around to see you yet?" Everybody was laughing and joking about it. I guess all the joking must have cooled Andrew down. When he finally came to the supply room, he didn't mention cutting me. He had calmed down and started laughing about it. He said he'd be damned if he ever expected anything like that to happen to him.

Another funny part of that story is that for a short while Andrew's granddaughter, Nadine Moss worked in the supply room along side me. We joked often about Andrew's shower. She thought it was funny that I turned the lights out on him. The playing never stopped. We threw bolt's and washers at each other . It's a wonder we didn't get hit in an eye. Nadine's favorite trick was to put thumb tacks in all the chairs. She was pretty good at placing them so they were almost invisible. If you ever sat on one, you became real careful after that.

Like I said, life in a cotton mill is just like it is in the rest of the World.

Copyright-(c)-2005-Jay Hudson-All rights reserved. No reproduction or tranmission without expressed written permission of Jay Hudson.

Wednesday, April 06, 2005

Saving Citizen Terri Schiavo

Ambling Along

Saving Citizen Terri Schiavo

by Jay Hudson

Terri Schiavo is 41 years old. Most likely she has celebrated her last birthday. She has been kept alive for the last fifteen years by a feeding tube. That tube was removed thirteen days ago , at the time I am writing this. Her remaining life can be measured in hours now.

According to news reports, she is not being given any food or water. It's a miracle she has survived thirteen days with this in-humane type of treatment.

The video tapes the news media have been playing on TV, show a person responding to the attention of her parents. Doctors say it's not so. They say it's just a reflex. I don't think so. I had several doctors almost let me die because of their incompetence. I am wary of what people tell me now.

I am pretty confident of things that I see for myself. I saw a woman trying to respond to her parents. I don't have years of education interfering with my common sense like the doctors and judges involved in this debacle.

Schiavo's loving parents have been fighting to save her life against all odds, fighting the very entity charged by the U.S. Constitution with the task of saving her life, the judicial systems of both Florida, and the United States.

Several courts, including the U.S. Supreme Court have failed in the most basic power GRANTED to any government authority BY THE PEOPLE; to protect the life and public welfare of the individual citizen.

Recent polls, if you believe what you see on TV news, show most American's agree with the decision to kill Terri Schiavo by starvation. Their argument is that she should not be kept alive by artificial means.

" I think it's too late, but... I think it's disgusting that she is being starved to death. Her husband has too big an interest in seeing her dead, when he has moved on and has a woman and kids. I think she should be in the care of her parents. The whole thing disgusts me. I am tired of hearing Democrats say that starving is a ' peaceful ' way to go and that she's not in pain, " said Jacqueline, a Nevada mom.

A South Carolina mom, Sonya Weiss had this to say, " the thing that gets me about the situation with Terri is this: if a person starves a dog to death, it's considered, and (rightfully so) cruel and inhumane treatment. The person faces prosecution and possibly jail or prison for those actions. Yet, Terri can be starved to death and some doctors are in the media claiming it's a painless, peaceful way to die? If that's the case, then what right do we as a society have to charge someone who starves an animal? "

" I cared for 12 people who were on feeding tubes," said Nursing Assistant, Terri Pilcher. " Were they to worthy of death? Is this the Roe v Wade of euthanasia? Will we be killing off people whose lives no longer are "profitable" or "useful". The failure ofTerri Schiavo's parents to make headway in the legal system reminds us of the sad state of justice in this country. Common sense and the value of life have deserted us in favor of expediency."
Since Schiavo did not have a living will, preserving and protecting her life was the duty of the courts. They have failed to protect her most basic right of all, the right to life.

Does that mean that her life is any less worthy than your's or mine?

My opinion is that the moment that artificial life support was started on Terri Schiavo fifteen years ago, the equation changed. From that moment onward, doctors and the courts should be obligated to continue artificial life support until the end, whatever the result.

Because Terri Schiavo was impaired, does not mean that she did not see, hear, feel, and think. Her parents repeatedly said that she tried to say " I want to live." Her attempts to speak were ignored by doctors and officials.

A convicted murderer on death row would most likely get to appeal his case for twenty years before being put to death.

Why are the courts so intent on seeing this woman die? Even if she is in a vegatative state she deserves to be protected by the courts.

Why, after fifteen years on the feeding tube, is Michael Schiavo pushing so hard to keep his wife from getting life-saving medical help? Could it be that his present girlfriend wants to be Mrs. Schiavo?

If she were a dying dog being treated this way, all the animal groups in America would be raising hell.

According to news reports, on Saturday, March 26, 2005 , nurses attending Terri Schiavo stated that her tongue was swollen and bleeding from dehydration. This is tantamont to "cruel and unusual punishment."

Several people were arrested when they attempted to take water to Schiavo. One was a young boy from North Carolina.

The courts have shown by their conduct in this case , that the life of the disabled, and the
dis-enfranchised poor, has absolutely no value in the United States of America. Could it be that the courts are trying to make a political statement?

A brutal murderer on death row gets more protection from the courts than a helpless, innocent woman. The only crime she ever committed, was being born in the U.S.A.

The courts in America have increasingly taken more and more power unto themselves. Power that was not granted to them by the U.S. Constitution. They have in actual effect, become lawmakers, judges, and executioners.

In the nineteen fifties, school children in America were taught that the U.S. government consisted of three branches, the legislative, the judicial, and the executive. The legislative, or the congress was to make laws. The judicial, or the courts, was to interpret and enforce the laws passed by the congress.

Instead of interpreting, and enforcing the laws, as the U.S. Constitution intended, the courts have usurped the power of the U.S. Congress, and the Executive branch, and let Terri Schiavo die.

Copyright-(c)-2005-Jay Hudson-All rights reserved. No reproduction without expressed written permission.

Monday, April 04, 2005

NCAA Championship Game-2005

Well, North Carolina won the national championship tonight by defeating illinois in a basketball thriller.

The diabetes is really kicking me today. If I eat anything at all the sugar goes to 200. I see the doctor tomorrow.
Don't want to go on insulin, but don't see how I can avoid it.

My story about Terri Schiavo will be in tomorrow's newspaper.

Second Time around

Monday, 4 April 2005

Just feeling my way around the site. I almost forgot how to post a blog after I got the site set up.
Today was a beautiful day in Carolina, blue sky, sunshine, 77 degrees. What more could you ask for?
after I get a little more proficient at this, I am going to post my newspaper column here so other's can read it.

Well, are we on the air live Walter?

Flash! News Bulletin

4 April 2005

Well Mr Blogger, with some help from Staci D., we have begun a journey of blogging, where no Hudson on my street has ever been before. Where we end up, heaven knows. This is only a test anyway to see if this thing really works.