Shopping Ain't For Sissies

Due to circumstances beyond by control, I did all of the Christmas shopping this year.  I would usually buy a couple of gifts and watch while everyone else tried to decide what to buy grandkids, how much money to spend and where to go.  This year it was my turn.

I had not been in the mall for nearly ten years.  That streak was to end in 2016.  I had no idea how many stores were in there.  Not to mention how big that structure is once you get inside.  Not only are there a bunch of stores, but there are booths all down the middle.  People tending these business are like the hawkers at the county fair.  They are aggressive and insist you look, listen or taste their product. 

And the people, they were everywhere.  There were some in a hurry.  Some in large groups. Some just sitting there waiting for someone to finish shopping or just there for the entertainment. Some that looked like they got kicked off Duck Dynasty.  Some wearing less clothes than they should. Some in good moods and some not so good. 

The traffic was horrendous.  Vehicles parked everywhere.  I found a reasonable spot at the end of the mall and went in the store entrance where I expected what I was looking for.  Turns out they didn't have it and suggested another store.  No luck there either, By the time I had exhausted all of my leads I was at the other end of the mall.  I must have walked two miles.  Now it was time to find my way back.  I got to the store I had entered and exited to the parking lot.

Now, the real trouble begins.  I forgot where I parked my car.  I looked where I thought it was but no luck.  I was pushing the alarm button on my key chain but no alarm could be heard.  I finally realized that probably wasn't the entrance I came in.  So I walked outside the building and lo and behold there was another entrance.   Finally I found my truck and went home.  I was exhausted.

Shopping ain't for sissies.  Next year I'm gonna learn how to do that on-line shopping thing.

Do Overs

All my young life I always considered myself a pretty good athlete.  I knew I wasn't the best in most of the events I competed, but knew I was competitive and better than most.  When I think back when I competed in baseball, football, basketball, track, motorcycle racing, racquetball and running, it is not the "Hero Moments" that come to mind.  It is those events when the outcome was something less than desirable.  Now that I am old, I am comfortable with sharing some of those disappointing and sometimes embarrassing moments in those sports.

Baseball:
When I was 10 I made the Little League baseball team.  The 12 year olds on the team were big and good.  I was scared of them.  I was happy that I got to wear a uniform and my own hat with a big "O" on it for our team, the Oilers, to school.  Late in the season, my coach, Mr. Bob Kinnear, told me he wanted me to start in centerfield.  I told him I had a sore arm and didn't want to play.  I had six at bats for the season.  Five strike outs and hit into a double play. 

Having gained confidence in my ability and playing regularly, I came to bat in a teenage league with a runner on third.  My coach gave me the suicide squeeze bunt signal with a runner on third.  I squared around to bunt and when the pitcher threw the ball I panicked and took the pitch.  The runner was easily tagged out at home.

Later, in high school I made the varsity team as a sophomore and started at first base.  Being the only underclass man on the team, I was the only object of the hazing.  After walking home after practice and finding out they had put analgesic balm in my underwear, I learned to check them and go commando if necessary.

My junior year I was playing first base when we had a road game against Orange Stark.  There home field was poorly lighted and fly balls looked like half moons when they were in the air.  As fate would have it a high fly pop-up was hit in my direction.  After running around trying to get under it, I missed the ball and it hit behind me.  The next day my Dad told me I needed to get a hard hat if I was going to play first base.

Football

My junior year I had played offensive and defensive end.  My senior year I played only offense.  In the last game of the season we were playing Beaumont High in the final game.  They were not that good and we were handling them quite easily.  With less than two minutes to play in the game we were leading 28-13 and they were backed up to their own two yard line.  I talked the coach into letting me go in on defense.  BHS was running a wing T offense.  The wing back was lined up on my side.  My job was to hit the opposing end, check WB and cover the flat on a pass.  At the snap I felt the wingback start to drift to the flat.  Instantly I sensed a screen pass to him and positioned myself perfectly to defend the play.  The quarterback dropped back, faked a pass downfield and turned and threw it directly to me.  All I had to do was catch the ball and fall down for a touchdown.  The pass went right through my hands.  The WB caught it and ran 98 yards for a TD.

Basketball

My sophomore year in high school, the varsity basketball team won the state championship. They  were big with several players going 6'7" and two more at 6'4".  The next year I was moved up to the varsity.  I had played post in Junior high and on the JV team.  But hadn't grown beyond my 5'11" but still playing post position.  Since all of the "tall" seniors had graduated, we were rather small.  Our two tallest players were 6'2".  One was pretty good and the other was big and strong.  I was riding the pine most of the time.    Coach Jimmy Anders liked me to sit next to him on the bench.  Probably because I would agree with him. We had these warm up jerseys that had a zipper part way down the front.  One game wasn't going too well and Coach Anders got mad at one of our post players.  He jumped up and said, "Wright get in there for Etheridge!".  I stood up and was trying to unzip the warmup, Coach started pulling it over my head and telling me to hurry.  I finally gave up with the zipper and he dang near ripped my ears off.   Although we were defending State Champions, we didn't have a very good year.

Track and Road Racing

Speed I did not have and had no intention of running track.  The junior high track coach convinced me I could be a hurdler.  We had some other good hurdlers but he wanted depth.  We won the junior high championship without my help.  I thought that would be the end of my track career, but Coach Martin convinced me to run junior Olympics in the summer as it would help me in football.  We had a meet in Houston.  About 8 or 9 of us drove over in his station wagon.  We were running late and had to change on the run.  I got there just I time for my heat.  It turned out there were only two of us in the last heat.  The winner went to the finals.  The loser went home.  The guy looked beatable.  The gun went off and I'm ahead at the first hurdle.  My opponent hit the hurdle but kept going.  When it was all over he had hit every hurdle and lost his shoe.  AND, still beat me.

Later in my adult life I started running to improve my endurance for off road motorcycle racing.  Unable to shake the competitive spirit from within, I had started entering 10K road races.  I was usually in the middle of the pack of my age group. Since the results were published in the Sunday Chattanooga paper,  I competed against people I didn't even know who they were, but showed up in the paper.   One race was scheduled in Athens, Tennessee.  They had a two mile race before the 10K. I decided to go "trophy hunting" and run the 2 miler since most of the better runners just ran the longer race.  There were several guys that looked like they may be in my age group.  I started out pushing the pace much faster than I normally ran.  As I entered the final stretch with perhaps a quarter of a mile to go, one guy thought to be in my age group was ahead of me.  I was gaining on him, but I was really suffering.  As I got closer I noticed a handful of my Chattanooga friends that were going to run the 10K standing near the finish line.  My thoughts were they would cheer for me and it would be just enough motivation to pass the guy in front.  As we got close to the finish line they started cheering.  Only problem it was for the other guy.  I didn't catch him.

Racquetball

When I moved to Chattanooga I was working shifts.  I had joined the local YMCA and liked playing racquetball.  It was hard to get a court at night and I started going to the court in the mornings.  I played some older guys that weren't too good.  One time I was there looking for a match and a woman asked me if I wanted to play.  Not having anyone else to play I said sure, figuring I would beat her easily.  After she took off her warm ups, I couldn't help but notice she had legs that would make Earl Campbell proud and biceps I envied.   She beat me like a drum.  While reading the Sunday paper a month later, I noticed a full page feature on a female Georgia State water ski champion.  Yep, it was her.  It was then I realized she was the one that found the "huckleberry".

Off Road motorcycling

While competing in a motorcycle enduro in Anderson, SC, I was doing quite well.  I was positioned to finish high, perhaps win.  With less than ten miles left in the 80 mile event, I was riding up and down hills on a power line right of way.  The hills had erosion ridges that, if hit correctly, made it easy to jump down the hill.  I had passed a Honda at the top of one such hill and just sticking those jumps.

As I hit the front end of a hump I noticed there were two.  The second one would normally been easy to clear while airborne.  I must have panicked before my rear wheel left the ground and I cut throttle, causing the front end of my bike to take a nose dive and flip me over the handle bars.  It must have pretty spectacular as the guy I had passed earlier stopped and asked if I was OK.  While gasping for air I said yes.  He started back up the hill.  In the meantime I started my bike and continued.  At the bottom of the hill I managed to submerge my bike in a small stream filling the cylinder with water.

After pulling it out with an aching rib, I noticed an ambulance coming down the right of way.  I met them, they put a band aid on my nose and I continued on.  Needless to say this was not a trophy run.

Now in my seventies, I'm still competitive, but at a much slower, calmer pace. Now it's just a lot easier to look back at previous failures.

I'm sure that I could come up with some more favorable athletic moments.  But it's always the "Do Overs" that come to mind first.

Pre Game Wee Wees

All of my competitive life I have experienced a problem.  It doesn't seem to matter the event, or in my case, one's age.  I have witnessed many others with a similar issue, but never really discussed it with them.  Is it anxiety, nervousness or poor planning, I don't know. 

I always have to pee right before the start of the event. 

When I was playing football, it never failed.  The urge always occurred after I had gotten completely suited out.  Then you have to remove half of your pads to go.  Once on a bus trip one of my teammates had to go so bad that they had to pull the bus over at a filling station and let him off to go.
The coaches were not happy. 

During my off road motorcycle racing days, I always had to go right before the start.  Again, off with the pads and gloves, stand in line at some cherry flavored Johnny on the Spot and go.  Happened every race. 

Running is no different.  The only exception is that it is easier, but there are more people in line.  This is complicated by the fact that most runners hydrate before the race, requiring more than one emergency visit.  My bladder control hasn't changed over the years.  The same symptoms occurred in my first race in Chattanooga in the '70's and yesterday at the Beaumont Sea Rim Striders annual TurkeyTrot.
                                                                                                                                                             Being a country boy, I have found that Mother Nature can reduce the wait.  Many years ago I was running in the Chickamauga Battlefield Park with friend Bobby Ward.  We were about half way through a long run and all of a sudden he just ran off the road into the woods.  I slowed down and in a few minutes he caught up.  He said he just had to GO! 

Several years ago at the Crystal Beach 5K, I decided to ignore the last minute urge and start the race.  I thought about needing to pee the entire 5K.  When I came through the finish line, I just kept going to the Porta Johns. 

Paraphrasing Jack Nicholson  in the movie, The Bucket List, "Never pass up an opportunity to pee."

The Election Is Over

The 2016 Presidential Election is over, move on.  It was close.  Many insulting things were said. Two controversial candidates battled it out.  But, the system works and we have a new President Elect.  Like it or not, Donald 'Trump is "everyone's" President.

So it is time for all the Hillary supporters to stop whining and the Trump supporters to stop gloating.
It is time to focus on what is best for the country.

It is time for everyone to try to do something positive.  I challenge everyone to do something good every day.  Do it for the good of others.  Go beyond your own person.  Make it a point to do this.
It can be big or little.

Pick up a piece of trash off the ground and put it in a receptacle.

Take a shopping cart left in a parking space to the proper area.

Open the door for someone.

Provide someone positive reinforcement.

Give a dollar to a homeless person.

Buy a total stranger lunch.

Volunteer at a food bank or pet shelter.

Call a relative or friend you haven't heard from in many years.

Check on an elderly neighbor.

Recycle.

You can think of many more examples.

A Japanese consultant developed a quality program called Kaizen.  The basic premise is that big results come from small changes accumulated over time.  Thousands of people doing little things will add up.

You can do it.  Whether the outcome of the election pleased our displeased you, it is done.  Now, let's make this country a better place.  

                                              GOD BLESS AMERICA!

G3

In 2004 one of my close childhood friends had been diagnosed with cancer.  Of all of my old friends, Craig was one of the healthiest of them all.  He had played college football and had a shot at the NFL. He had become a successful businessman, but never forgot his roots.  Many of our old friends lived in the Houston area and would meet regularly for lunch.  As his disease progressed more began to rally around Craig, helping out in whatever ways we could.  He fought as hard as anyone could, but eventually lost the big fight. 

Sadden by our loss one friend, Bob Jantz,  suggested that we not wait until the next one gets sick to share this fellowship.  As a result Bob, Bob Katz and I got together to follow through with the idea.
We developed some ground rules and identified people we would like to include.  We communicated our idea and extended invitations to others to participate.  About 15 high school classmates "signed on" and we had our first retreat at my beach house the next year.

The Original G3

Every year someone volunteers to host our "git together".  The location and arrangements are at the discretion of the host.  We have been to Crystal Beach, Galveston, East Texas, Bandera, Canyon Lake, Fredericksburg, Corpus Christi, Beaumont and New Orleans.  Next year is scheduled for Kemah. 

We usually have 10 to 12 attend.  Most of the group is now retired.  All have been successful and some would even be considered "deplorables".  We have engineers, accountants, salesmen, journeymen craftsmen, soldiers and lawyers.  No doctors, but one does have a PhD. Texas is their dominate home.  Over their careers they have lived in New Jersey, Illinois, North Carolina, Tennessee, Washington, Georgia, Alaska, Colorado, Louisiana, England, Africa and other locations I am probably overlooking. 

The meetings usually begin on Thursday and end after Sunday breakfast.  Over the past 12 years we have participated in numerous activities.  We have attended rodeos, museums, Jazz festivals, concerts, honky tonks, gun ranges, wineries, dog track and a bourbon distiller.

 
In addition, we have been fishing, played golf, went horse back riding, boating, kayaking and jet skiing.   We have boiled shrimp and crawfish. Played poker and invented competitive games of skill.  Drank a few beers.  Eaten copious amounts of junk food and visited many restaurants. And, paid a surprise visit to an old high school friend.

 But, mainly we talk.  A lot of reminiscing.  A lot of philosophizing. A lot exchanging of ideas.
And, a lot of discussion about medical issues.  We talk about recent surgeries, physical ailments and medications.  Although cars are still a popular topic girls rarely come up anymore.  Age is creeping up on this bunch of once "Alpha Males"   Since the group was founded we have lost two of the original members.  All of us have some ailments, some serious and some are just what goes with the territory.

One of the original goals was to provide emotional, spiritual and physical support to each other as well as other class members.  Each year we review what was done and what we can do to help where we can. 

These retreats are looked forward to each year.  It has provided an opportunity to link back up with those we knew in our formative years.  Although we don't all agree politically, we all share similar values, work ethics and a sense of responsibility.  We were all raised by parents of the "Greatest Generation".  As Richard Petty once said, "Don't Forget Your Upbringing", we get to revisit that every Spring. 

Next year it's the Car Show in Kemah.  Stay tuned.

Hurricane Trump

In 2008 Hurricane Ike hit Galveston County.  It was a Category II hurricane but carried a Cat IV storm surge.  The surge was estimated to be over 15 feet.  We owned a beach front house near Gilchrist, Texas at that time. When we were able to get on the Peninsula we found there was nothing left of our place.  Not even a piling.  Not only was our property destroyed everything in the vicinity was gone, with one exception.  A yellow cabin was seen in many overhead shots and was still standing..  It was a newer house and had been built to stricter building codes and withstood the storm surge and wind.

All over the Bolivar Peninsula older houses were destroyed and many of those built in the previous ten years survived.  The older cabins had been built in an era without restrictions and in some cases were eye sores along the 25 mile beach. 

Since Ike, rebuilding has flourished and beach houses continue to appear.  All built to current standards.  This has resulted in a significant upgrade on the Peninsula and property values have soared.  .


Not to down play the tragedy and monetary loses that myself and others experienced.  Hurricane Ike had the advantage of purging less desirable real estate and improve the esthetics of the beach communities.

With an important Presidential Election on the horizon, I have been trying to decide on my candidate of choice.  As I write, Donald Trump is leading the Republican nomination process and is quite controversial.  I don't like a lot of what he says and am not clear on his implementation plans.  But, he is not reluctant to say what he thinks and lets the others be damned.  This part I like.


So, what's the connection, you ask?  Trump is like a hurricane.  He is roaring in with advanced warning.  He scares the Hell out of some people.  Maybe even blowing hard. But, even if he leaves a lot debris in his wake, he might do some good.


I just read that Miley Cyrus, Al Sharpton, Jon Stewart, Rosie O'Donnell, Cher, Samuel L. Jackson, Whoopi Goldberg and several others would leave the country if he were elected.
Therefore, like Hurricane Ike, some good could come out of a bad thing.


I am rethinking my vote.

Right vs. Prejudice

After spending 38 years as a supervisor/manager in a non union company, I had many grievances, complaints, disputes, etc. to evaluate and pass judgement.  It was pounded into me early in my career that I wore two hats in my role(s).  I was obviously the company's representative to those I was responsible for as well as the people's representative to the company.  If a large company wants to remain non-union, the rank and file must feel that this representation is fair or they will pursue organizing. 

It took me several years to get beyond the emotion of a grievance as I initially felt compelled to side with the company first.  Often I would take a criticism of the company personal and my emotions would tend to defend the company position first.  After handling numerous grievances and receiving guidance from a couple of outstanding bosses and leaders, I eventually moved to getting passed the emotion and dealt with the facts.

Once I accepted the fact I personally didn't have the need to be "right", I became a much more effective leader.  By removing my emotion from each issue, it became easier to look only at the facts and make decisions.   Not always what the grievant wanted but what I felt was the logical decision.

I once had a manager that told me he expected me to handle the grievances.  The employees could appeal to a higher level if not satisfied with my decision.  He did say that if I had this "need to be right" I should consult with him before making a decision as he would do what "he" felt was right.
Otherwise, it was my job as he wanted employees to have a fair appeal process. 

On one such occasion I had a grievance that involved some vacation request as to whom could be off.
There was a lot of gray areas to consider and no concrete rules to apply.  Recalling what he said, I reviewed it with the boss and told him what my decision was gonna be.  After asking me about 100 questions, he said he didn't agree with me, and if I stuck with my answer and the employee appealed, he would overrule me.  Nevertheless, I stuck with my guns and declined the employees request.  He handled it like a man, but said he didn't agree and wanted to see the big boss.  I told him I would set it up. As I shook his hand and he walked out the door, I called him by name and said, "I think you will like the boss"  I was right.

After having many years of similar experiences,  I tend to be neutral on issues until I can see all the sides.  Although I tend to be conservative in beliefs, I do not agree with everything identified as conservative.  I do not consider myself a Republican or Democrat, but prefer to be identified as a Conservative Independent.

My opinion of what is happening in this country is that most people identify themselves as one side or the other.  Their efforts tend to be trying to support or defend their side without trying to look at the entire issue.  No attempt to get to the root cause of things.  One of my subordinates once told me when looking at some new operating equipment, people will find what they want.  If they like it they will see only the good.  If not, only the negative.

My belief is that President Obama has polarized the country into two groups.  All of their efforts are aimed at supporting or defending the liberal or conservative positions and not spending the effort to find out what is "the right thing to do". 

I think that was proven this week when Justice Ruth Ginsberg denounced Trump as a Presidential candidate.  The Supreme Court should be the ultimate group looking for right.  From my limited high school civics  knowledge, I thought the role of the Supreme Court was to review law against the Constitution of the US and rule based on the facts, not whether they are conservative or liberal or by whom they were appointed.  For one of the highest mediators, she should not be taking any public action based upon her personal ideology.  To me this just shows what has happened in the greatest democracy in the world.

I'm not thrilled with either of our Presidential candidates as I don't think either choice will be looking beyond their own personal agendas.  I hate to admit it, but I will be voting for the one I distrust the least. 

Learning Life on Highland Avenue.

In late 2003 my friend was terminally ill with cancer and in the fight of his life.  He was approaching his 60th birthday.  His wife, Linda, asked friends to write him a letter from their past experiences to be presented on his birthday party.  Below is a reproduction of the letter I wrote.

Learning Life on Highland Avenue

This is a story of five boys growing up in the 50's and 60's.  I strongly believe that adult values, behaviors, work ethic and character are founded in those first 15 or so years of our lives. The

following story is offered as proof of that theory.

It all started circa 1951 while Jimmy was playing on a sand pile in front of a house under construction on S. Parkway Dr.  A chubby little guy wearing bib overalls made from mattress ticking wandered up and said, "Hi, I'm George".  They found out they would be going to the same school and became playmates.  Once school started another boy by the name of Buster showed up.  They all enjoyed sports. In the fourth grade a new kid came to town.  He said he was from New Orleans and his name was Bobby.  He wasn't trusted at first because he wore funny brown shoes and wouldn't  go barefoot to school as the rest of them did.  But once they learned he couldn't spell CATs  correctly, he became one of the crowd.  The bond was starting to form.  They all played baseball, football or whatever game they could invent in the vacant lots and play grounds near Highland Ave. They tried out for Little League and the elementary school programs.

By the 5th or 6th grade they found out that Buster had a "cousin" that went to the other elementary school.  It was through the above connections that they first met the hero of our story, Craig.  Now, Craig played every sport that they did.  In summer programs they either played with or against him.  Other boys came into the picture from time to time.  A skinny kid named Robin that could run fast. You see, all the other boys were not "fleet of foot". There was a pretty boy named Kenny and a bad kid named Alton. There was this giant, hairy guy named Raymond. Later, another pretty boy named Robert with two L's. Sports were the thing to do. They all played. They would compete for anything.  They would invent games. Whatever the game there would be a winner and there would be a loser.

  Talking SMACK began in the 50s somewhere near Highland Ave.  George was the best.

Craig was considered the "rich kid" of the five boys.  He lived on a street named "Zavalla". It had curbs and concrete driveways. The other boys lived on streets named for unheard of people, like Boyd, Clark, Park. They had ditches in the front.  Craig's house was big. It had a den and a two-car carport. His Father was famous.  His name was  on the back of every team photograph any of us ever had.  They were in awe of Craig.  He always got the good jobs, working construction for $2.00/hr, while the rest of the boys mowed yards for minimum wage.  He was the MAN!

The competition was intense.  Craig was the most intense of them all.  Later in life he would make his mark as a top Salesman.  This started on the sidewalks of Highland Avenue.  Craig once sold hundreds of tickets to a "Big John and Sparky" Show at Lamar Theatre.  He was a salesman as a preteen.

He could not stand to lose.  He took it harder than the rest of the boys.  In the sandlots he once almost decapitated his little brother trying to reach home. Somehow he thought the game was football and not baseball.  But, he had compassion; he never blamed someone for their failure. Many times he would throw a perfect pass to one of the other kids only to see them drop the ball.  Rather than blame them, he would whine and say "My fault"! Knowing good and well the other kid should have caught the ball.

,

As they grew older and the competition became more serious, Buster was the one that would train the hardest. The others would do the minimum and then hit the sandlots.  As time went by it became obvious that Craig was the one with the most talent.  When they would choose sides, he was always the first one taken. They soon learned that they did not want to be on George's side if Craig was on the other.  George would talk SMACK and Craig would become incensed.  Then Craig would take it out on George and everyone else on the opposing side. George never learned.

As the fifties turned into the sixties, the boys were changing. They started to notice girls, but not Craig.  As a senior at South Park High School, he was elected TWIRP King, but refused to show up for the coronation.

He never left his roots.  Even while playing football for Rice, he would come home on Sundays and play in the Alice Keith Park touch football game.  When he came to town as a business man, he would go by Jimmy's house on Saturday morning, wake him up for a five mile run and then go visit his Mother.

There are many more examples.  But, I believe the reader can see that the way the boys grew up along Highland Ave. shaped their lives.  They all have good work ethics, high values, and will help  a friend any time the chips are down.  When these boys tell you they are going to do something, you can take it to the bank. A handshake is all they need. Today you can see those values in all of them as they approach 60.

George: Will do anything in the world someone needs. He still talks SMACK and is still obnoxious.

Buster: Still self-disciplined.  The Ultimate Marine.

Bobby: Has traded his weird shoes for weird cars.  The ultimate "friend".

Craig: The ultimate warrior. Successful in business. Successful in life. Standing on the edge and refusing to jump. Defying the obstacles. Still a competitor. Staying a winner!

Jimmy: Well, he is still in awe of Craig.

 





All American Cooking Team

Super Bowl 50 is just two weeks away.  The NFL Pro Bowl is this weekend.  While watching ESPN today I started thinking about the different all star teams that are selected.  All the major sports have all star teams, MVPs, etc.  The local newspapers tout high school and college athletes.  We have academic All Conference players,  top ten plays of the week,  best cities for retirement and even the three best places one of the Kardashians had sex.


Since part of Super Bowl celebration involves copious amounts of food, I got to thinking about food I have eaten.  I recalled my early days in Chattanooga, TN when a neighbor shared some of the best potato salad I had ever eaten.  I never forgot her and the sharing that took place in those days.  Therefore, I offer my All Time best food not cooked by my wife.


Main Courses:


Chicken Fried Steak                                                          Babe
Fried Chicken                                                                    Mrs. P
Pulled Pork                                                                        Jennifer Wright
Gumbo                                                                               Maggie Parks
Chicken and Dumplings                                                    Judy Patton




Side Dishes: (Some may have been eaten as main course)


Potato Salad                                                                       Carolyn Brumlow
Crawfish Cornbread                                                           Vivian Metoyer
Any fresh Vegatable                                                          Mrs. P
Red Beans and Rice                                                           Linda Katz
Some kind of Corn Relish                                                 Kathy Cordray




Desserts:


Fried Pies (mainly apricot)                                                Babe
Pie (Blackberry and/or blueberry cheesecake)                  Maggie Parks
Cake (Italian Cream Cake)                                                Mrs. P
Candy (Tie)      Pralines                                                     Sarah Wright
                          Fudge                                                       Maggie Parks


I am sure that I left some off.  If you have a particular dish you think deserves the list, let me know when it is ready and I will evaluate it for future consideration.