By David J. Simpson

WHAT GIRLS DID FOR FUN

I was always curious what girls did for fun when we weren’t around, for it seemed to be so secretive. After a good measure of recent brain picking, I discovered they talked a lot to each other in person and on the phone, mainly about clothes and boys. They listened to records and would write movie stars and ask for their autographed photos.

Rainbow Beach was a hotspot for the girls during the crazy, lazy days of summer. There they could catch up on the latest gossip, cultivate a glamorous sun tan and ogle the muscular life guards. Little did they know that the boys who worked in the locker room had drilled peek holes in the overhead. However, Rainbow Beach was a luxury most boys didn’t have during weekdays, for we were busy working summer jobs on the farms, in the orchards, performing odd jobs and delivering newspapers.

WHAT BOYS DID FOR FUN

It always seemed that boys had many more outlets of fun and adventure, both wholesome and mischievous! At least, it was more obvious to the public’s view. We had a myriad of sports to choose from, both at the YMCA and in the park playgrounds. During the winter, the Y was packed with boys learning to swim, participating in gym classes, playing basketball, ping pong, checkers, etc. During the warmer seasons, we had football, baseball and softball in vacant lots and parks.

Jr. Hi-Y was popular during our 7th and 8th grade, as a warm-up for Sr. H-Y during our high school years. In our first year in both organizations, we were considered pledges and subject to a lot of hazing. We had to memorize all the streets in Vincennes, the capitals of each state and other mind altering trivia. We were required to wear ties at all times, unless we were playing sports, and basically do anything that an upper classman ordered. We always had to address these members as, “Sir.” The punishment for any infraction was administered at our weekly meetings. A full fledged member would report any violation of the rules for each pledge. The Sergeant of Arms would ask us to bend over and grab our ankles, and we then would receive a painful and powerful swat on the hind side for each demerit with a huge wooden paddle with holes drilled in it. These unforgettable rites of passage would go on week after week – believe me, it was a breathtaking and painful experience. At the last meeting prior to our initiation, we each were chosen by an active member to exchange licks with the paddle. Amazingly, some of the scrawniest, non-athletic boys packed the biggest wallops with that trusty old paddle! These trials and tribulations were rewarded with some memorable dance parties and some great wiener roasts

In many respects, growing up in Vincennes resembled a canvas painted by Norman Rockwell – when Fun was clean and Life was simple. Much of the spirit and innocence of our era has been depicted in the classic holiday movie, A Christmas Story, which is now replayed endlessly on TV during the Yuletide Season. It was based on a chapter from a book, “In God We Trust, All Others Pay Cash,” written by Jean Shepherd. He was a fellow Hoosier from Hammond, who produced popular radio shows in Cincinnati and New York from 1950-77. His stories about his Indiana boyhood struck a cord with his avid listeners. I hope these reminiscences will bring back some of the glorious joys of yesteryear to you, too.

Harry Truman, from Missouri, was a different kind of President.

He probably made as many important decisions regarding our nation's history as any of the other 42 Presidents.

However, a measure of his greatness may

TO ALL THE KIDS WHO SURVIVED the 1930's, 40's, 50's, 60's and 70's!!

First, we survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or drank while they were pregnant.

They took aspirin, ate blue cheese dressing, tuna from a can, and didn't get tested for diabetes.

Then after that trauma, we were put to sleep on our tummies in baby cribs covered with bright colored lead-based paints.

We had no child proof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets and when we rode our bikes, we had no helmets, not to mention, the risks we took hitchhiking.

As infants & children, we

'With hurricanes,
tornadoes,
fires out of control,
mud slides,
flooding,
severe thunderstorms tearing up the country from one end to another, and
with the threat of bird flu and
terrorist attacks,

are we sure this is a good time to take God out of the Pledge of Allegiance?'

Love him or loathe him, he nailed this one right on the head.......... By Rush Limbaugh:

I think the vast differences in compensation between victims of the September 11 casualty and those who die serving our country in Uniform are profound.

No one is really talking about it either, because you just don't criticize anything having to do with September 11.

Well, I can't let the numbers pass by because it says something really disturbing about the entitlement mentality of this country.

If you lost a family member in the September 11 attack, you're going to get an average of $1,185,000. The range is a minimum guarantee of $250,000, all the way up

Rick Warren (REMEMBER HE WROTE "PURPOSE DRIVEN LIFE") You will enjoy the new insights that Rick Warren has, with his wife now having cancer and him having "wealth" from the book sales. This is an absolutely incredible short interview with Rick Warren, "Purpose Driven Life " author and pastor of Saddleback Church in California.

In the interview by Paul Bradshaw with Rick Warren, Rick said:
People ask me, What is the purpose of life? And I respond:
In a nutshell, life is preparation for eternity. We were not made to last forever, and God wants us to be with Him in Heaven.

One day my heart is going to stop, and that will be the end of my body-- but not the end of me.

I may live 60 to 100 years on earth, but I am going to spend trillions of years in eternity. This is the warm-up act - the dress rehearsal. God wants us to practice on earth what we will do forever in eternity.

We were made by God and for God, and until you figure that out, life isn't going to make sense.

Life is a series of problems: Either you are in one now, you're just coming out of one, or you're getting ready to go into another one.

The reason for this is that God is more interested in your character than your comfort.

God is more interested in making your life holy than He is in making your life happy.

We can be reasonably happy here on earth, but that's not the goal of life. The goal is to grow in character, in Christ likeness.

This past year has been the greatest year of my life but also the toughest, with my wife, Kay, getting cancer.

I used to think that life was hills and valleys - you go through a dark time, then you go to the mountaintop, back and forth. I don't believe that anymore.

Rather than life being hills and valleys, I believe that it's kind of like two rails on a railroad track, and at all times you have something good and something bad in your life.

Dave Simpson

Click here to take “The Yankee or Dixie quiz”

My mother and grandmother were fond of their two-day shopping excursions to Indianapolis during the 1940's, which occurred about three times a year. They would disappear into the bowels of two gigantic department stores, L. S. Ayres and Wm. H. Block, seemingly never to return (much like the ride on the M. T. A.)! When I was too young to go to the movies by myself, I would be obstinately dragged behind them through the endless aisles of girly things and men and children clothing. I could never understand why we had to spend so much time on the boring lower floors, when endless treasures were awaiting discovery on the top floor in the Toy Department. The only fun I could muster was riding the escalators. It was particularly fun going up the "down" escalator. No wonder, my dad never went along!

As I matured, and their patience was tested to the limits, I was given money to spend most of these dreadful afternoons in the gigantic movie theaters, which were located a few blocks away from these stodgy establishments. They would buy the Indianapolis Star in the Claypool Hotel lobby an discerningly select an appropriate movie for me, usually a Disney rerun, which I had seen a dozen times. With a hug, they trustingly sent me on my way for an afternoon of wholesome entertainment.

Now I ask you what kid, even an innocent one like me, could possibly resist the overwhelming temptations I would encounter along the perilous route to the movies? I could easily resist the first temptation, the tantalizing aroma of the Mr. Peanut Nut Shop, for I figured my mother would stop by there later, for she was nuts about nuts! Undoubtedly, she'd drop by and get me a bag of cashews before we left town. So I’d get my just desserts without squandering my precious movie money.

The second temptation was the exhilarating noises and alluring lights of the Pin Ball Parlor and Arcade. Once again, I conquered my seedy passions, due to my frugal upbringing and good common sense. I realized that, at my existing skill level, my pleasure would be short lived and my paltry pittance would soon be exhausted in such trivial pursuits.

Unlike his temptation of Christ in the Bible, the devil was triumphant in my third and final temptation! What red blooded, American boy could possibly resist the blaring marquee that would seduce even the bravest and purest knight? "Special Double Feature Today Only - 'Frankenstein Meets the Wolfman" and 'The Curse of Dracula'." I quickly glanced behind me and realized my Guardian Angel had been momentarily distracted, intently peering into the window of the nearby Bible Bookstore. I dashed to the box office and quickly pushed a sweaty quarter through the window. Once inside, I was welcomed only by the piercing eyes of perfect strangers, who eagerly awaited the unearthly delights that would be unveiled in the darkness beyond. It rushed to obtain a prime seat in the vast pleasure palace. I always wanted to walk on the wild side, and now my day had finally arrived!

I must admit my overwhelming joy was somewhat diminished when I met my mother and grandmother in the Toy Department later that afternoon. You would have thought I was destined for a career as an unscrupulous politician, as I eloquently described my delight with the classical music and fabulous animation of Disney's "Fantasia." Thank goodness I no longer believed in Santa Claus, for he would surely have deposited a lump of coal and switch in my stocking that year! With pangs of guilt, but little remorse, I wondered if my Guardian Angel would ever hook up with me again?

But I was destined to get my comeuppance for this transgression for several of the following Christmases. It's funny, but I somehow most vividly remember the presents I lusted for the most, but never got! Sort of like the girls I fantasized about in high school (and still do)!

My top five unfulfilled wishes were:

1. LIONEL TRAIN. I was told that my father bought me a train (not a Lionel) when I was two. He and his buddies spent weeks playing with it, but I was too young to appreciate it. By the time I was, it had long been damaged and over the hill. There wasn't anyone around here who could repair them. I remember my father did try to get it fixed, though, but to no avail.

2. ERECTOR SET. You could make all kinds of interesting structures with this vast assortment of beams, connectors, nuts, bolts, etc., including ferris wheels, roller coasters airplanes and robots. The super deluxe kit even included small motors to use in mechanizing a wide assortment of astounding devices. If my dear parents had only wise and affluent enough to buy this educational gift for me then, I wouldn't be so mechanically impaired today!

3. THE CLASSIC RED RYDER BB GUN. I heard the same famous mantra on the lips of most moms of my era, "You'll shoot your eye out!" This was the most notorious and frowned upon gift among protective mothers in our town. However, my best grade school buddy, Bernie Niehaus, received one for Christmas when we were in the sixth grade. We had only played with it for a few minutes in his basement, when he started laughing and plugged me with a BB in the thigh at very close range. I guess I was lucky, it could have been a lot worse!

4. KANGAROO SPRING JUMPING SHOES. These were advertised regularly on the back page of comic books, rivaled only by the enticing ads for the Red Ryder BB gun. This ingenious device consisted of large steel coiled springs mounted between two metal plates, which you'd strap on each foot. This would allow you to soar through the air with giant leaps (evading kidnappers and escaping from rabid dogs and other beasts). If I had them, I could just visualize me making a "slam dunk" on the blacktop basketball courts at the Old Maid's Lot at 10th and Church Street.

5. KNIGHT SOLDIER SET. My mother searched high and low for these in Indianapolis, but they were always sold out very early, undoubtedly the result of a three year curse I incurred for my scandalous movie escapade. The closest she could come was a Royal British Calvary set, but my obvious disappointment caused her to return it, I finally made up for this traumatic childhood deprivation, when I retired and returned to Vincennes at age 65. I probably overindulged, for I now have a six foot full suit of armor, which I bought in Spain in 1976; a King Arthur chess set; two Excalibur swords; and numerous castles, wall plaques and paintings. My next Christmas present to myself this should finally quench my childhood desires, for it will be a beautifully scaled replica of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table.

However, my most memorable Christmas presents did satisfy my deep passion for baseball!

Pro Baseball was a board game, which consisted of several sets of cardboard circles with a rectangular slot cut in the middle. Each circle represented a famous baseball player with numbered spaces around the periphery, which corresponded to the player's lifetime batting statistics (1=home runs, 9 = strike outs, etc. Each player would choose a team of nine circular cards and arrange a batting order. The cards would be placed on a spinner and the dial would be spun. The batters fate would be determined by the number on which the spinner came to rest. Some of my friends would organize leagues during our college summers and play intently. Unfortunately, I never got to participate, for I was gone most of those summer months on my NROTC cruises.

My other baseball board game I received was quite unique. It consisted of a thick board, which was in the shape of a baseball diamond with a deep channel down the middle of the diamond. One player would be the pitcher, who would flip a steel marble down this runway with his index finger. The batter used a lever that would cause two metal contacts to close on the far end of the channel. If he failed to trap the steel ball between the contacts, it was a strike. If the ball was successfully trapped, lights on the scoreboard would indicate the batters fate, e. g., foul ball, fly out, ground out, double play, sacrifice, single, double, triple, home run. Quite an advanced electronic device for my grade school years during the 1940's!

I find most of these ghosts of Christmas past are so very hard to put to rest! But then, why should I?

Almost two years ago our community came together and stopped this school administration from putting us in debt $111 million to build two super grade schools and a middle school. Now the school administration wants to put us in debt $55 million to build a middle school and another $33 million to renovate three of our grade schools, which, with the interest, will come to a total of around $60 million. The cost of the new middle school plus the renovation costs of the elementary schools will come to $115 million! This does not

January 8, 2008

Stealing a phrase from the headlines, Here We Go Again is right. And for the life of me, I don’t understand why. Well, let me re-phrase that, I Do Know Why. It’s because of “Sour Grapes, Egos and Arrogance. And have no doubt, I’m referring to this School Board Administration, specifically, Dr. Stewart and Mr. Rose.

I could quote the woeful economic statistics of this State and more specific, this area, but I won’t, you’ve already seen and heard of them. I could quote how this State is trying to “reel in” runaway school boards and their building of new schools during a time of economic turmoil and skyrocketing property taxes. The gigantic increases of the declining population for this State as well as this area. The figures from professional economist stating that an economic incline for this area, is nowhere in sight. Meaning, we have not yet hit the bottom. I could quote the ever increasing foreclosures, defaults and property tax sales. The list goes -------------

Getting to First Base During a Memorable Night Game

Part 3

By the time we reached the seventh grade, my romance with Judy had reached steamy proportions, for we were now dancing “head-to-head.” However, I still hadn’t reached first base and actually kissed her! My passage into manhood was attained one fateful night at Linda Wolfe’s party. We played Spotlight, a delightful game where all the lights in the room were turned off, and the sole source of illumination was a flashlight, held by the odd-man-out in the center of the room. You were seated with your partner of choice to do what came naturally in such a situation. When the intrusive, intermittent beam of the flashlight was focused on a daring couple, and they were not found kissing, the boy had to exchange places with the spotlight holder and the game progressed. Being a quick learner, I discovered early in the game, that the best approach was to keep Judy’s lips continuously occupied, for all the other guys would have loved to exchange places with me, so they could neck with my ravishing date. Gosh, her lips were so soft and sweet. Her kisses made my heart skip a beat. I truly felt the pangs of love deep in my chest. I will always remember what she whispered to me after the first few kisses… “Gee, I didn’t know you liked to do this so much, David!”

After the party, I decided not to call my parents to pick us up, so I could walk Judy to her home, which was only about four blocks away. That way I could hold her hand all the way to her apartment and daringly steal a goodnight kiss. Totally enraptured by the romantic developments of the evening, I couldn’t resist sharing the joy of my ultimate conquest with

Part 5

by David J. Simpson

John and I had remained bitter rivals ever since Judy arrived in the fourth grade. John was the sports star of our class. John and Judy were undoubtedly of two chosen ones when God handed out physical beauty. Judy and I were blessed with the best scholastic talents, which could be mainly attributed to our self-disciplined industriousness and

part 4

Another Joyous Christmas

by David J. Simpson

By the time we reached the eighth grade, our romance was progressing at a torrid pace. I was now receiving the customary good night kiss at the end of each date with Judy, although we never again had another one of those marathon necking sessions. Unfortunately, there was one golden opportunity for a repeat performance that was lost due to the interference of an authentic shrew. At a party in my basement, I suggested we play Spotlight again. Judy had been right all along... David really liked to do that! Shortly after we started the game, it was rudely interrupted by the prudish Mrs. Schmitt, Timothy Max's mother. She somehow had entered our house intent on being the self-appointed party chaperon. Then she marched downstairs, switched on all the lights, and put a premature end to our youthful dalliances.

That lost moment aside, a romantic Yuletide season was fast approaching, so all was not lost. Being an incurable romantic, Christmas had become synonymous with Love for me. For months I had pestered my mother with the fact that I wanted to get an especially sentimental and romantic gift for Judy, which would clearly express my undying love for her. Since my mother was the consummate shopper and frequently ventured into “shopper's paradise” in Indianapolis, she would be my perfect emissary. My entire family loved Judy almost as much as I did. My father's eyes would twinkle every time he saw her, as if to say, "I'm so happy a girl like you has captured my son's heart. God bless you." It was a cinch to persuade him to cut an elegant Christmas tree from the stretch of pines across from Simpson Lake and deliver it to Judy’s family that Christmas.

Well my mother did her appointed task quite well, too. She returned with a gleaming treasure from L. S. Ayres, a classy Indianapolis department store. It was the most beautiful golden bracelet I’d ever seen and the perfect gift for the object of my affection! This remarkable bracelet had two endearing objects dangling from it. One was a small golden whistle. The other was a golden heart with this inscription on one side, "If you ever need me, just whistle!” Since the other side of the heart was blank, I couldn't resist

A Knightly Courtship Blossoms

by David J. Simpson

part 2

During the fifth grade, my mother decided I should master the fine art of ballroom dancing. When I showed only marginal enthusiasm after the first lesson at Frankie Stout Wessing’s Dance Studio, my mother, being a shrewd amateur psychologist, suggested that I take Judy to future lessons as my dancing partner. This sparked my enthusiasm immensely! Judy and I successfully completed the dancing class with high honors. After all, it was perfectly acceptable to take your partner into your arms and hold her close (at least during the foxtrots and the waltzes)! Later, we could work off all our sexual tensions during the jitterbug.

These dance classes evolved into many fine parties that I could escort Judy to during our grade school years. It also introduced me to many new friends, the social elite who attended the public schools.

My First Act of Chivalry

During the sixth grade my devotion to Judy grew as rapidly as my animosity towards John. Sister Mary Aloysius had established a year-long contest, where we earned points by displaying our academic skills and religious fervor. We would receive points for high test scores, perfect recitations, performance at

by David J. Simpson

Part1

My First Vision of Loveliness

Little did I realize it was the beginning of a lifetime of friendship, when an adorable, demure little girl walked into our classroom near the end of the fourth grade year. Sister Roberta Marie introduced her as Judith Ann Wendling, our newest classmate. She had beautiful natural light blonde hair and the dearest, deep brown eyes I had ever seen.

It was truly love at first sight, as I was immediately smitten with this angelic creature sent from