Genealogy Leads to Spending Spree

...Sort of. On February 27, 2008, I began doing genealogical research for Mrs. Y. She and her husband own the investment/tax agency in which I worked until April 14. I was supposed to do this research at work and only whenever I had some free time. However, as usually happens in life, I was suddenly inundated with work at nearly the same moment that she handed me her "starter" info. It soon became clear that I was going to remain inundated for the foreseeable future, so I decided to do her genealogy at home. I did this because I wanted to have something to hand to her in the end. Besides, I was eager to get started.

Most other people either play solitaire, do crossword puzzles, put jigsaw puzzles together, play computer games, remodel bathrooms, knit handkerchiefs or drink dry martinis while watching old episodes of Gilligan's Island to keep themselves distracted ;-). I find that genealogy easily beats all of those pursuits, hands down (except drinking dry martinis, which, of course, you can do while searching the internet for your 5th cousin, three times removed ;-). Plus, you actually produce something valuable and rewarding for all of your trouble (not that knitting a handkerchief or remodeling bathroom isn't rewarding, but I added those two pursuits after I wrote that sentence ;-).

I told Mrs. Y that all I needed in order to get started are the names of her parents and grandparents, and maybe her great-grandparents, as well as their birth dates and birth places. I always set this limit because, like a professional psychic, I like to start with as little information as possible. That way, it's more of a challenge for me and more impressive to the recipient when she or he sees what I've discovered.

To Make a Long Story Short (yes, how unlike me)...

In slightly over two weeks, and using only sources on the internet, I was able to add 505 names to Mrs. Y's family tree (counting the few names she had given to me to get me started). Mrs. Y had never known anything about her father's side of the family, so that is where I concentrated most of my work. Unlike the vast majority of people, she is lucky enough to be descended from and related to some prominent people on her father's side, including several state-level politicians (in three different states, no less), many wealthy businessmen, several rich land owners, lots of lawyers and judges, several Civil War veterans (on both sides of the conflict) and even a wealthy World War I flying ace whose plane was shot down over France just before the war ended. Last, but not least, she is descended from a signer of the Declaration of Independence. The various ancestors on her father's side came from Maine, New York, Illinois, New Jersey, Virginia/West Virginia and Kansas before settling in western Nebraska and eastern Wyoming. It is very rare for a genealogical researcher to be able to research a family tree like that, so I had a lot of fun.

Unexpected Benefits

Mrs. Y was clearly thrilled (no fakery on her part), especially regarding the fact that her great-great-great-great-great grandfather had signed the Declaration of Independence (she even told everyone about my research during our April 15, end-of-tax-season party). She quickly offered to pay me for my time. I told her that my doing it at home had not been part of the deal, so she was, therefore, under no obligation to pay me. She didn't accept that answer, but I still didn't name an amount. So she told me to suggest a proper amount to our mutual friend, Mrs. L (it was Mrs. L who had convinced me to work there in the first place). I repeated this to Mrs. L the next day (and mentioned how many hours I had worked on it), but I didn't give her an amount either because I'm just not good at that sort of thing. Mrs. L, who also works for Mrs. Y, said she would think about an amount that was suitable. A couple of weeks later she told me that Mrs. Y sometimes buys things for people instead of paying them cash. That sounded intriguing, but I didn't have any idea what to have her buy for me. Mrs. L then reminded me that I had once expressed an interest in buying a miniDV camcorder.

That caught my attention. For the past two or three years I have been wanting a camcorder that also has the ability to convert VHS (analog) videos into digital (DV) format on the computer. No miniDV tapes required. This process is known as "passthrough." Then I could edit them in iMovie and export them to DVDs (while also keeping the original iMovie DV file as a master copy). Of course, I couldn't refuse a potential offer like that. She had found my weak spot.

I immediately started looking for a camera (preferably a Canon) that has the analog-to-DV passthrough feature built in. There used to be quite a few models that had that feature, but now it is extremely rare. I could find only one model still available, a Canon ZR 700, and it was in just a handful of online stores, with the cheapest price being $325. Even though that price was lower than the $400 plus price tags at the other places, I still considered it to be far more than I had earned for doing some genealogical research. However, I really wanted that camcorder, so I told Mrs. L that I would gladly do other work to make up the difference if Mrs. Y would buy it for me, because I hate ordering stuff on the internet in general, much less from an unknown company. Amazon.com, which I definitely know and trust, did not have that model in stock anymore (at least not a new model).

Well, it turns out that Mrs. L was wrong. Mrs. Y was not interested in paying me by buying something for me. Instead, she agreed to pay me $200 in cash. That's still more than I felt comfortable taking, but she seemed intent on paying me, and I had definitely put in a lot of hours of work on her family tree, so I didn't argue (I still haven't received it, though, and I won't be heartbroken if I don't). As for the camcorder, after having gotten my hopes up, I soon decided that I wasn't brave enough or "frivolous" enough to pay that much money to an unknown company. I decided I was just out of luck as far as owning a miniDV camcorder goes.

The Punch Line

Yesterday morning I had resigned myself to the fact that I would be borrowing an out-of-town friend's camcorder (actually, his classroom's camcorder) for a couple of months starting in June. Would I be able to get all of my home movies imported into iMovie in that time period? It could become monotonous fairly quickly if it is done on a tight schedule. Then yesterday afternoon I got on Amazon.com one more time, and -- low and behold! -- they had just "restocked" new models of the Canon ZR700! Even more amazingly, it is on sale for a measly $179.99! That's $146 cheaper than the price at the other online store and roughly $240 cheaper than its original price. I was very relieved that Mrs. Y hadn't wasted her money by buying it from that other store. I immediately added the camcorder to my shopping cart (I had bought a scanner from Amazon last August, so I didn't have to spend time registering).

When a frugal person such as myself buys something that quickly, you not only know that it is a great deal, but that it is something I really, really want!

I also decided that I had probably better make the best of this very rare online retail adventure by buying a few more items (we non-materialists just aren't interested in owning lots of stuff, so "retail adventures" are very rare for us; although I do frequently fantasize about owning a new Mac Pro Tower with four 1TB internal hard drives and a 30-inch monitor! also, a moped that gets 70 to 100 mpg). So, in addition to the camcorder, I also bought the following items:

1.) Two five-packs of miniDV tapes for $12.95 each (about $50 cheaper than I could buy them locally, or so my research indicates).

2.) One additional battery for the camcorder for $54.99 (highly rated by other users).

3.) Three additional rechargeable batteries for my Nikon CookPix 4300 digital camera for $14.86 each (I may have bought one too many, but I don't care).

4.) One new book (released just this week) for $12.60 called The Revolution: A Manifesto, which is receiving rave reviews. It's the first time I've bought a new hardcover book in many, many years (and the very first time that it wasn't on the remaindered shelf with a $3.00 price tag on it ;-). It is the first book of this genre that I have EVER purchased.

Happy Conclusion

I've been waiting for nine years (since iMovie was first released by Apple in 1999) to be able to import my roughly thirty home videos onto the computer, so that I can not only edit them to my heart's content, but so that I can also advance frame by frame in order to capture still images to add to my photo collection. Now I only have to wait a few more days for the camcorder to arrive. I just hope the quality of the imported video is what I expect it to be. If it isn't, well, then I will at least have a new wide-angle digital-video camcorder with which to capture the incredible number of exciting events that take place in my life every day ;-p.

Post Script

I started this entry with the statement, "...Sort of." By that I mean that I would have bought this camcorder in a heartbeat for $179.99 even if I hadn't done the genealogical research for Mrs. Y. However, the problem is that I wasn't even thinking of camcorders until Mrs. L brought it up. And, of course, she only brought it up because I had done that genealogical research for Mrs. Y. Therefore, if I had not done that research, I probably would not have seen this last "passthrough" camcorder before it was sold out and discontinued.

"Yay" for me for once!

Very, Very, Very Brief...

Scary:

As I said...

Ditto...

You Can Go Home Again (Step 1)

This has been a difficult story to write (actually rewrite) because there is so much information to include, yet I am also trying (but failing) to keep it from becoming too insanely long (my usual problem). I wrote the rough draft of this story in late 2003, which was a bad time for me to try to put anything in writing, even grocery lists. In addition to that, once I write something poorly, it is very difficult for me to change my perspective in order to rewrite it. Why? Because the poorly written version gets stuck in my head again every time I reread it in order to rewrite it. Of course, it also doesn't help that I've forgotten a lot of the finer details of the story after 30 years (I never ever thought I would forget anything when I was younger). Luckily, I still have the rough drafts of two or three letters I wrote at that time to help me out with some parts of this story (one of the few benefits of growing up as a packrat).

The Story
When last we met, I had just purchased a 1974 Mustang II. The date was April 7, 1978. The location was western Nebraska. The purchase was the result of an event that had taken place a couple of weeks earlier. This is the story of that event.

Brief Summary of 1976-1978
As previously mentioned, my family moved from "Earling County," South Dakota, to "Snobbytown," Nebraska, in July 1976, when I was 15. By the time the main part of this story takes place, I had spent two long, miserable years among the unfriendly, cold-hearted kids of this town (1).

I used to be a very stubborn person when it came to trying to make friends; therefore, it took me a long time to learn my lesson and stop trying to make friends with these kids (so no one can say that I did not try). More importantly -- as far as this story goes -- the more I tried and failed to make friends, the more unforgiving I became toward my parents for having put me in this situation without giving me any say in the matter (thankfully, a lot of parents are not like that anymore). Even worse, they refused to care that I was being treated like an outcast here. Whenever I mentioned it to them, they usually told me I was probably doing something to make them not like me (I'm sure we all remember how frustrating it was as kids when our parents didn't believe us; but aside from this one particular quirk, my parents were very decent to me). [Note: Years after I graduated from high school my dad finally admitted to me that he had hated it here as much as I had and that he had actually believed me when I told him what the kids were like here (because the adults weren't any better). I did my best (which was not very good) to restrain myself as I asked him, "Then why didn't we move!!!!???" He replied, "Because at that time I was too proud to admit that I had made a mistake and that you had been right." As frustrating as his answer was, it was also a relief to hear it because it proved that I had been right all along (I had given him two warnings that proved to be accurate even before we moved here). For the record, my dad was a master at getting along with almost everyone in those days, so if he had failed here, then I knew I had never stood a chance.]

Taking Matters into My Own Hands: The Story Begins
In the fall of 1977, when I was a junior in high school, I brazenly started making plans to go back to Earling County for a visit during spring break in March 1978. By that time, I had concluded that a short visit would be better than never going back at all. My plan, such as it was, involved a long-term psychological strategy that was designed to convince my parents to let me make the 630-mile roundtrip by myself since they refused to take me. Yes, it was quite a radical fantasy for a teenager, but I felt that I had nothing to lose by trying.

My strategy worked this way: I would simply begin acting as if I was going, no matter what, just as an adult would act. I figured if I did that on a very consistent basis over the course of the next few months, then they couldn't help but be subconsciously affected by my positive attitude, whereupon they would simply let me go. My approach to using this tactic was simple: Whenever there was a practical reason to bring up the subject, I would say in the most matter-of-fact nonchalant, subtle, mature tone of voice that I could muster, "WHEN I go back to South Dakota during spring break..."

I never said, "IF I go...," or "IF you let me go..." I always said, "WHEN I go..." (2).

I had chosen spring break because Earling County High School didn't have spring breaks, which meant I would be able to go to school every day for the entire week as a guest and see all of my old friends (and the many, many beautiful girls) in one place.

Did I really think it would work? Let's just say that I wasn't going to hold my breath; but in those days I still believed in miracles, so I went ahead with my plan full force and was determined never to give up, no matter how hopeless it might seem.

By January 1978, I was so deeply into it (mentioning my "for-sure trip" to my parents every chance I got) that I had actually convinced myself that I was going. In fact, on January 19, I wrote to an old best friend (who, coincidentally, had moved away from Earling County a few weeks after I did in 1976): "I am going to positively, absolutely go to [Earling] County on spring break (for one week)..." I wrote the same prediction to one or two other people over the course of the next month or so. My parents had given me no indication that they were even thinking about letting me go, but that was just a minor detail. I still had plenty of time to get them to say yes.

Additional Strategy: Practice Runs

On January 8, 1978, a week and a half before I wrote the above letter, I had talked my dad into letting me take his pickup, a 1971 Ford four-wheel drive (with no power steering, no power bakes, no cruise control) on a "short" excursion.

1971 Ford four-wheel-drive pickup; Pretty, isn't it? ;-)

Actually, my asking him to let me borrow his pickup for a short trip was not a terribly huge deal. He had let me borrow it several times when we lived in South Dakota (for trips of five or ten miles each). At that time I was only 14 and 15 years old. In fact, I had learned how to drive in this same pickup when I was 10 or 11 (and, no, I did not enjoy it, although it definitely paid off in the long run). On this newest occasion, I told my dad I was going in search of long-abandoned farms in Sioux County, NE, which was the truth (old-house exploration is the reason I had borrowed the pickup in South Dakota, too). But I had an additional plan that I did not mention to him. [Note: Below is a picture of me on January 6, 1978, two days before I went on my Sioux County excursion. I actually have a picture of me driving the pickup during that trip, but my chipmunk cheeks look pathetic in it, so this one will have to do (I will only leave it here for a short time, for obvious reasons).]

MW at work in the produce department of a

local grocery store. The person taking

the picture, a co-worker, was one of the

few really nice kids in the region,

hence my sincere smile, but he

attended another school.

A kid from Snobbytown High went on my Sioux County excursion with me (the only time we ever did anything together). Like my dad, he had no idea that I had an additional plan. After we had explored a couple of long-abandoned houses about 30 miles from Snobbytown (and a building that may have been an old post office), I told him that it would be "fun" to drive all the way to the South Dakota border (a distance of roughly 100 miles from Snobbytown) before returning home. He wasn't overly thrilled with the idea, but he didn't protest loudly enough to make me change my mind (probably why he never did anything with me again either ;-).

The sun was starting to set by the time we were about twenty miles from the border. At about the same time, we drove into a thick fog that was like driving into a wall. In the fog and darkness I took a wrong turn on one of the back roads (I guess my map wasn't very useful in foggy darkness ;-), and I ended up having to turn back when I was about three miles from the border (by my best guess). After we drove out of the fog again, it snowed on us all the way home; however, there was not much wind, and it was far too cold for it to stick to the highway, so I actually enjoyed the drive on that dark, nearly deserted two-lane highway. Not long after I arrived home, I bravely told my dad how far I had gone, because I wanted him to know -- for future reference -- that I knew how to "take care of myself" on the road. He took it well (at least I don't remember getting in trouble).

In fact, he was obviously so okay with it that he let me go on a similar trip two weeks later: On February 4, 1978, I convinced him to let me drive the pickup to Hot Springs, SD (map), which happens to be roughly 30 or 40 miles beyond where I had driven (roughly speaking) the first time. Once in Hot Springs, a friend of mine from school (a real rarity in Snobbytown) and I were supposed to spend the night with his grandparents before returning home the next day. The trip went very well, and we had fun being as free as adults; however his grandparents weren't home when we got there, so we ended up spending the night in the pickup in a motel parking lot, and we definitely froze our rear ends off!! (You'd think...)

[Musical Note: Shortly after we arrived back in town from the long trip and were driving through a residential area, this song, one of my favorites at the time (I still love it), played on the radio. For some reason I have never forgotten this bit of trivia. It was in the Top 40 at the time.]

By early March, my psychological tactic and my now proven ability to drive long distances seemed to be having an effect on my dad. He was still no where near letting me drive to "Earling County" for an entire week, but he did seem somewhat less resistant and less argumentative whenever I brought it up (or maybe he was just ignoring me ;-). Whatever his mindset really was, I continued my efforts with as much (or maybe even more) intensity than ever before.

Small (but Necessary?) Kink in My Plans
For some reason (maybe I was afraid to go alone? or maybe I felt empathy? or both?), I asked another kid, "Joe," if he wanted to go with me, even though we weren't friends. Joe had moved to Snobbytown from "Van Camp," SD (not its real name), the previous summer. He disliked it here as much as I did (and for the very same reasons), so I thought he might enjoy getting a chance to go home too. I told him that if he could get someone to come to Earling County from Van Camp to pick him up (a distance of 50 miles), then he could go with me. He eagerly agreed. Unbelievably, his parents agreed to let him go with me before mine had even agreed to let me go -- if they agreed to let me go. You can be sure that I used their permission for their son as ammunition in my own efforts to get my dad to let me go.

Bet 'cha Can't Guess...
I very briefly described the sequence of events in a letter to my old best friend (and maybe exaggerated a little, as only a kid would exaggerate, regarding the arguments): "In January, I asked 'Joe' if he would like to go along... He jumped [at the chance] in a second. So I made plans, worked out a schedule and got into a heck of a lot of arguments with my family on how I was to get there... Finally, on the very last day before spring break, I persuaded my dad to let me have the pickup!"

In spite of the blatantly leading title of this entry, did you honestly think my dad would really let me go? Needless to say, I was thrilled beyond words.

One of the last things my mom said to me before I received permission to go (or after?) was, "You can never go home again. Those kids probably won't care about you anymore."

I didn't believe her because I had the letters to prove otherwise.

Hot Springs Lesson: Not Learned
Being a kid, I still managed to skip one minor detail during my months-long planning. It was the part part where I bothered to inform my friends in Earling County that I might be coming to stay with them. I think part of the reason I made this error in judgment was because I was afraid no one would offer to let me stay with them, even though one of my best friends, "Kevin Patterson," had already invited me several times in his letters. The other part (actually it was the biggest part) had to do with the silly notion that I wanted to surprise them by showing up on their doorsteps after driving the whole way by myself. Or maybe I didn't want to get my friends' hopes up, just in case my parents refused to let me go.

The Day of Departure
Finally, the day of departure arrived. One month afterward, I wrote the following to my old best friend: "At 6:00 a.m., Saturday, March 18, we left!! I couldn't believe I was going! All the way there, 'Joe' and I talked like best friends. [The only difficulty] was that his first track meet of the season was to take place on Friday during spring break [back in Snobbytown]. So I said I would call him on Wednesday [to plan our return to Nebraska]. He [said he] could have cared less about the meet... It was the coach that made him nervous... At 11:30 AM, I dropped him off [at "Herron," the designated location in eastern Earling County. His friend was already there waiting to drive him to Van Camp.]"

Did I mention that I was "a bit" annoyed with Joe's last-second announcement regarding a track meet? Well, I definitely was. Joe had neglected to tell me about the meet at any time prior to our departure. I was angry that I now had to return to the miserable Snobbytown two days sooner than I had planned. I had waited two years for this trip and had been planning it for several months. I wasn't thrilled to have an unexpected, last-minute announcement shorten it. Joe should have changed his plans to accommodate me, not the other way around, especially at this late date.

First Official Stop
After dropping 'Joe' off with his friend, I drove back to "Earling," the town in which I had lived from 1970 to 1976 (ages 9 to 15). I shouldn't have stopped there at all because "Kevin Patterson," the friend with whom I hoped to stay, lived 35 miles northwest of "Earling."

My letter continues: "[In Earling, I] saw Tom working in [his parents' grocery] store. He was nicer and friendlier than ever before. I talked with him and Ken and some others until 4:00 PM. Tom asked me to go to the recreation hall (formerly the movie theater) with him that night to visit (so did Ken). [But I didn't have time for that.] I then left for 'Kevin Patterson's' farm because in his letters he was always [inviting me] to stay with him."

The "Fun" Begins
I drove 23 miles west on pavement, then I turned onto a gravel road to drive the remaining 12 miles. Due to the spring thaw, the gravel roads were very muddy, and it was very slow going. After the long drive up that very muddy road, not to mention the really long drive from Nebraska, I was very disheartened to find no one home at the Patterson farm. I later wrote to my old best friend: "I went to their place, but no one was home. I parked right at the edge of their driveway because it looked like a recently drained ocean up there. But I got stuck [anyway], and it took me twenty minutes to get out using two boards."

In order to get unstuck, I had put the pickup in four-wheel drive and then placed the boards under one or two wheels to get some traction. After several attempts, I made it back onto the gravel road.

Leaving it in four-wheel drive, I then drove a half mile north of the Patterson farm and turned east onto a roller-coaster road that consisted more of dirt than of gravel. I chose this muddy route -- very hesitantly -- because it was the shortest route to the farm of "Calvin and Charlie Nelson," twin brothers who had also been best friends of mine. By taking this road, I only had to drive five miles. If I had taken the only marginally safer route, I would have had to drive 30 miles. I took the two boards with me in case I got stuck again. A month after my visit, I wrote of my decision to take this road: "Then I was a nut and took the shortcut road between Patterson's and Nelson's."

I made it roughly one mile before I got stuck again, this time at the bottom of a small valley where the mud was much worse than it was on the slopes and peaks. I had already successfully raced through one or two or three similar muddy bottoms, but this one was the worst of the bunch, and I got stuck about half way through it. The more I spun the wheels to try to get out (and in spite of using the boards again), the pickup continued to slide ever closer to the steep ditch on the driver's side. For some reason the wheels on only one side of the pickup were working. After ten minutes of struggle, and with the driver's-side wheels now only inches away from going into the ditch, suddenly all four wheels kicked into gear. The pickup lurched free of its very precarious spot. You cannot imagine how relieved I was. It would have been terrible to have been stuck in a deep ditch thirteen miles from the nearest town and five and a half hours from my home with night approaching and neither the Pattersons nor the Nelsons knowing I was in their midst. Another farm was located near the spot where I had gotten stuck, but I didn't know the people who lived there, and I certainly didn't want to have to bother them.

I carefully nursed the pickup the remaining four miles (thankfully, all of which was flat) to the Nelson farm and happily knocked on their door. To my utter dismay, no one was home there either!

I was becoming quickly disillusioned, not to mention very nervous. Evening was rapidly approaching, and there was no one else I knew who would invite me to stay with them for a week. And I had no choice but to stay in Earling County because Joe, who was now comfortably situated in his hometown, would not have been able to return to Nebraska without me (at least not without a lot of difficulty). With just a bit of panic starting to set in, I waited for my friends to come home. I wasn't about to drive back to the Patterson farm on that terrible road, and I didn't want to drive the long way around for fear that the Nelsons would return as soon as I left and the Pattersons still wouldn't be home. After an hour of waiting, I gave up and drove the sixteen miles to "Annin" (where "Earling County High School" is located). I didn't know what I was going to do. I felt completely lost. How could I have been so stupid as to not tell anyone I was coming?

Arrival in "Annin"
In my letter a month later, I described what happened (without telling my friend how terribly worried I was): "When I got to Nelson's, no one was home, so I waited for an hour. No one came, and I was starved, so I decided to go to Annin to eat. When I got there, it was 6:00 PM, so I thought I would take a look at the school before it got dark [sunset was at 6:50 PM, Central Time]. As I was coming down the [side] road [from the school] toward "Pete's" Bar [which was located on Main Street], I saw two kids running across the street into [Pete's]. One was a little slower, and I knew that it was Calvin Nelson by his gorilla walk [I was exaggerating a little, of course]. I acted like I was going to hit him with the pickup. When I got within ten feet, he finally recognized me, and all he could say was, 'MW!'"

Think about this for a moment: There were approximately 800 people living in Annin in 1978, yet I had managed to stumble into Calvin and Charlie Nelson completely by accident only one minute after I had arrived. If I had not decided -- completeely on a pointless whim -- to go out of my way to look at the school before going to the restaurant, I would not have found them. I could not believe my good fortune. My relief was immense. I quickly parked and joined Calvin. Charlie had already disappeared into the bar without seeing me. Calvin and I joined him.

Securing Lodging
I learned that Pete's was a hangout for the younger adult crowd (18 being the legal drinking age in South Dakota in those days) and minors. Underage kids were allowed to hang out in the south half of Pete's, drinking pop, eating snacks and playing pool or pinball. The City Bar, on the other hand, was generally considered the hangout for older people (it was -- is -- located one door south of Pete's, just across the side street). Calvin and Charlie and their mom, "Dora," had gone into the City Bar just as I was arriving in town (not a scandalous thing in tiny western towns where there are only one or two places for people to get together to visit). The boys had not wanted to hang out with the older crowd so they were on their way to Pete's when I ran into them. If I had driven down that road five seconds earlier or later, I would have missed them.

While we were in Pete's, Calvin and Charlie asked me what I was doing in Annin. I explained that I had come to visit for the week because it was Snobbytown's spring break. They asked me where I was staying. I explained in so many formal-sounding words that I hadn't completely made that determination yet, hoping they would take the bait. They did. They immediately "dragged" me to the City Bar, where they presented me to their mother and then proceeded to "charm" her into allowing me to stay with them. It wasn’t necessary. Dora would have said yes, no matter what, and meant it with all her heart (she had known me since I was 9). She is, and has always been, one of the most generous ladies in the United States.

I hadn’t felt such intense relief in a long, long time. I had come very close to living as a transient in the freezing March weather that night -- and maybe even for the next week (at least those were the fears that had been going through my 17-year-old mind). I did not know who else to ask to take me in for a whole week. There really wasn't anyone else that I would have wanted to stay with, or who would have invited me to stay with them (maybe Tom or Ken in Earling for a night or two, but not for an entire week; besides, I had definitely not come here to stay with them).

An hour or three later, I followed the Nelsons back to their farm. We spent the rest of the weekend on their farm having as much fun as possible. I later wrote to my old best friend: "On Sunday we had to clip cow's ears (90 head). All Calvin and I did was push a few cows into the chute [every so often] and then sit and talk for a while."

I loved every minute of being on that farm, where life was so much more fulfilling and relaxing and contented. You name it.

Going to School
On Monday, I rode to school with Calvin and Charlie. I asked the principal (who was new to me) if it was OK for me to attend classes as a guest that week. He said that was fine. In April 1978, I wrote: "Then came Monday morning, and I was as nervous as a cow. We drove into town that morning, and the first person I saw as I walked into the school was 'Lorraine' [a former classmate] who acted surprised and happy to see me (she is now married to 'K.R.M.' - they're parents) [FYI: Parenthood in high school in Earling County was extremely rare]. Then I went into the hall and saw Kristi, who was sitting on the floor. I tapped her with my foot, so she would look up, and when she did she stared a second until she recognized me, and she said, 'Well, hello! Where've you been!?' Then I saw 'Sareena' and died 10,000 deaths on the spot! She is so beautiful. I went to classes with Calvin for the first five periods; then I went to the gym to watch the girls practice track for the last two periods. Everybody, and I mean everybody, was so friendly that I never wanted to leave again. That was about all I did [for the rest of the week]."

At one point that first morning, "Sarah," a younger sister of Sareena, and upon whom I had had an unrequited crush in junior high, hurried up to me in the hallway. She had heard I was back and wanted to see for herself if it was true. After I greeted her, the first thing she said (with a hint of awe) was, "Gosh, your voice is so much deeper!" I felt honored that she had come to see me. I did, however, quickly learn that she was, after two long years, still dating our fellow classmate, "T.E." They never got married to one another, though.

Initially, Kevin Patterson didn't seem very happy to see me, possibly because I had not stayed with him. I pretended not to notice his cold-shoulder treatement and visited with him as much as possible during some free time in one class. I explained that I had stopped at his house first and that I had even gotten stuck in his driveway and then again about a mile northeast of his house. He eventually warmed up and became as friendly as ever.

What My Trip Home Was Really All About
In fact, I spent a day or more at Kevin's farm. I was very happy to discover that he still had the best sense of humor in the United States.

AND! -- and this is what the trip was really all about! -- Laughter is the best medicine. And I needed huge doses of it after living in totally humorless Snobbytown for two years (NOT an exaggeration). During the time I was around Kevin I laughed as I hadn’t laughed in ages. I laughed with great gusto and sincerity and humor until I couldn’t keep my face straight for any length of time without squeezing the sides of my mouth together with my hand. Even as I laughed continuously and uncontrollably, I was aware of just how much I needed to laugh. I felt myself "healing" (so to speak) by leaps and bounds every time Kevin uttered a syllable.

One of the most memorable moments of the entire vacation came while Kevin was driving me back to the Nelson farm on that muddy back road. Of course, as is true of reading a movie script, the following brief converation will not be funny in print, especially as written by me 30 years after the fact, but, as delivered by Kevin at the time, it was hilarious. That notorious road between the Patterson farm and the Nelson farm contains several 90-degree curves.

As Kevin approached the first curve at about 40 mph, with no indication that he was planning to slow down, I panicked and said, "The sign says ‘15 mph'!"

Kevin replied, "Aw hell. If the government had its way, they'd have us get out and push our cars around these corners."

I began laughing uncontrollably, and I couldn't quit. I think I laughed for another mile or two (at 40 mph). Eventually, I knew I had probably laughed too much according to Kevin’s standards, but I couldn't stop; so I turned my head toward the passenger window and continued to laugh silently for the remainder of the drive. With each exhalation, I laughed hysterically yet silently. As I inhaled, I could feel the next laugh not wanting to wait its turn. With each laughing breath, I felt my well being increase exponentially. Oh, how I had missed all the creative kids of Earling County!

A Rare Bit of Unrepentant Selfishness on My Part
In fact, I had missed those kids so much, and I was having such a wonderful time "recuperating" among them that I got really selfish and did what many would consider a terrible thing. I didn't call Joe in Van Camp on Wednesday, as I had promised. Instead, I called him on Friday, the very day of his Snobbytown track meet. I had made him miss it, and I didn't feel bad about it at all, which was a first for me. Until that week, I would never have considered doing such a selfish thing. However, he had made it abundantly clear during our drive to Earling County that he didn't care about the meet. It was that statement that gave me the courage to be selfish.

Returning to Snobbytown
I wrote to my old friend: "They didn't have school Friday (dang bust it!!). I was having so much fun that I never did call Joe in Van Camp until Friday, so he missed his meet. We left at 6:00 AM [Saturday, March 25] from "Herron" [where I picked up Joe] (which means I got up at 5:00 AM). He didn't sleep that night, and since he was mad at me, he slept all the way back. The last thing he said to me as he got out of the pickup at his house was, 'I hate Snobbytown! There's nothing nice here!' Everything I had done for him since last fall no longer mattered. He was mad because I made him miss a track meet that he didn't care about. I even told his coach that it was my fault, but he still isn't friendly anymore."

That coach was definitely mad at me (so mad that it necessary for me to transfer out of his history class to another history class for the remainder of the year!), but I didn't care about him in the least! Nor did I care whether or not Joe liked me anymore because we hadn't really been friends prior to the trip. I just knew that he had loved the "extra two days" in South Dakota as much as I had, so he shouldn't have been mad at me. If it hadn't been for me, he wouldn't have had those two extra days to remember for the rest of his life.

Conclusion
Having been completely free for one week had a major effect on me. I could never again be the dependent kid I had always been before. I wanted to continue to have control of my own life (as much as possible). On March 31, 1978, one week after returning from Earling County, I went car hunting (on my tiny motorcycle) and saw a 1974 Mustang II at a local car dealership -- the very sort of car I had long dreamt of owning. I went home and got my dad to go back with me in his pickup. The two of us then visited with the salesman. I was allowed to test drive it for a week, and I bought it on April 7, 1978, for $1,450.00.

On May 31, 1978, my parents let me drive my new car to the northern Black Hills of South Dakota to visit my old best friend (the one to whom I had written the letter I used throughout this entry). I was only able to stay for two days because I had to return to work, but it was still great to be free to go whenever I chose to do so (relatively speaking).

I shall tell you all about "Breaking Free, Step 3" this summer.

[Musical Note: I shall always associate two top 40 songs from the week of March 18-25, 1978, with my amazing visit to Earling County. This one played on the radio just as I was struggling to wake up at 5 AM to return to Nebraska (among other times). This one played one night as we were driving around the countryside talking about girls. They were both in the Top 40 at the time.] 

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Footnotes
1.) I want to make it very clear that not all kids in western Nebraska are like the ones in Snobbytown. In fact, this town even has a reputation in the region for its snobbishness. I've heard this from several people, including one just two days ago who grew up here and then lived in other places as an adult. Here is another example: In about 2001, a new teacher was hired to teach in the school where I used to work. That school is in a town about an hour from Snobbytown (also in western Nebraska). The new teacher had lived in Snobbytown since about 1991, so his two daughters, both in their early teens, had spent their entire school lives here. They had never known anything different. The first day of school that year was only a half day long. After the final class let out for the day, I was standing in the hallway with two or three teachers, including the new teacher (whom I had actually had known when he lived in Snobbytown; in fact, it was he who had convinced me to take the job at that school back in 1998). His 8th-grade daughter saw us as she got out of class and raced quickly up to us with two or three other girls in tow (her new friends). She had a huge smile on her face. Her father asked her, "So, how do you like it here?" She replied, almost shouting with glee, "I like it waaaayyy better than Snobbytown!!!"

I forgot I was an adult at that moment and let out a huge whoop of agreement! Further vindication! ;-D

P.S. Just in case you're about to ask, no, I have no [expletive] idea what I am still doing in Snobbytown. Life doesn't always work out as we would wish.

2.) Regarding my psychological strategy to get my parents to let me drive to Earling County: For some inexplicable reason, I had come to embrace the idea that you could manipulate other people's thoughts with trickery when I was 8 or 9 years old. One day in about 1969, I found a brochure on the Cosmos, a famous tourist attraction in the Black Hills of South Dakota. I was instantly fascinated. The brochure had pictures and also explained that the laws of physics do not apply there (the brochure also used words that I could understand). In the Cosmos, balls appear to roll uphill; tall people appear to be shorter than short people, etc. I desperately wanted to experience these phenomena for myself, but I knew my parents would probably say no. So, while they were not at home one day, I packed both of their suitcases for them, hoping that would make it seem "easier" for us just to get in the car and go. When they got home, I showed them their suitcases and tried my psychology on them. They were very amused and maybe even a little impressed, but they didn't take me.

After that failure, it didn't occur to me to use that sort of psychology on them again until late 1977, shortly after I saw a fascinating portrayal of that trickery in a certain landmark movie. That trickery takes place in this short exchange. ;-) Now don't laugh, because it worked for me!

Thirty Years Ago Today - Breaking Free (Step 2)

In case you're wondering, "Step 1" will follow this post. I didn't get it posted in time on its anniversary, even though I tried. In hindsight, I'm halfway okay with that because "Step 2" provides a good lead in to "Step 1."

Step 2

On April 7, 1978 -- thirty years ago today -- I bought this car:

1974 Mustang II, Mach I, Hatchback

It was my favorite type of car in those days, and, as simple and low-budget as it may look to some people, I still love it. I took this picture on April 5, 1978, while it was sitting in my driveway. By then, I had been test driving it for six days (can you believe an auto dealership would let a 17-year-old high-school student test drive a car for that long?).

I paid a grand total of $1,450 (plus interest to the bank, of course, and entirely out of my own pocket), which I thought was a pretty good deal for a four-year-old car (well, maybe five years old, since it was possibly manufactured in 1973). They even replaced that little yellow plastic "gas cap" with a real one ;-), although it only had the gray undercoating since I didn't want to pay a small fortune to have them paint it to match the color of the car.

My purchase of this car was a direct result of an event that had taken place a couple of weeks earlier. That event -- "Breaking Free (Step 1)" -- shall be the subject of my next post.

My ownership of this car also resulted in a really HUGE event -- to be known as "Breaking Free (Step 3)" -- that took place in the summer of 1978. I still find it hard to believe that such an event as "Step 3" ever got past the wishful-thinking phase. I shall tell you that story in another 30th-anniversary post.

Fast Forward to the End

Sadly, this great little Mustang breathed its last on November 25, 1981 (but not in an accident). On that day, I had just left South Dakota State University in Brooking, SD, for the 500-mile drive to western Nebraska for Thanksgiving vacation. Another Nebraska Panhandle resident, "Tim," was carpooling with me, as was "Jennie," a resident of a town in eastern Wyoming. Just twelve miles south of Brookings, on Interstate 29, something in my engine went clank, and my car began losing power. I was only able to go another mile or so before it came to a halt. A tow truck brought it -- and us -- back to Brookings, whereupon we all got in "Tim's" car (coincidentally, a 1976 Mustang) and drove to western Nebaska. This is one of those times in which one must look on the bright side: We were all extremely lucky that my car had died only 12 miles out of town instead of 150 miles out.

My car sat in the university parking lot behind my dorm for the remainder of the school year. My dad then came with his pickup and a trailer and brought it -- and me -- back to Nebraska. I had hoped to get it fixed, but everyone was very pessimistic when I described what had happened. Most of them said it would probably need a new engine. That killed my enthusiasm for taking it somewhere for a professional opinion, especially since I would have had to pull it there (my dad was already living far away in western South Dakota). So I just let it sit in a weed patch and turn to rust. Yes, I felt bad about treating it so poorly after it had done so much for me. Yet, on the other hand, it had definitely done more for me than I had ever dreamed it would, so I still feel it was worth every penny I paid for it.

Singing About Fools on April Fools' Day (UPDATED)

[Fixed all links January 11, 2012.] In honor of April Fools' Day, I am presenting to you every Top-100 song -- from January 1950, through December 1989 -- that includes some variation of the word "fool" in the title. On a last-second whim, I also decided that you might have a lot more fun reading the list if you could also listen to the songs. So I created links to as many of the audio tracks for these songs as I could find on the internet. If you click on the links (and open them in a new tab or window), you may listen to each song in its entirety (I hope I didn't accidentally link to any truncated songs). Many are in stereo, and only a few are YouTube videos.

I don't know if I should admit this or not, but I did all this research myself. It wasn't too terribly hard because I used the Cash Box Top Singles web site to compile the information (I actually made it even easier by sorting them in a database; but I won't bother you with the details of how I did that).

To make this entry as official as possible, I actually posted it a few minutes before midnight on April 1; however, I wasn't finished with it yet (only the 1980s were listed). So I "unposted" it shortly after midnight and compiled the remainder of the songs (which took a lot less time than you might think). The main delay since midnight was caused by my adding all the links to the audio tracks. But, I must admit that it was a fun delay. I had not heard of a lot of the more obscure songs before. Three or five of them are actually not too unpleasant to the ears. Some of these songs are classics, and some of them I have always liked.

P.S. For the past couple of weeks, I have actually had another type of song list in mind, but I decided to change course and post this list for April Fools' Day. I shall post the other one soon. I may even post a few similar lists in the future.

Note: The date listed with each song is the week that it first reached its peak position on the charts. A few of these songs remained at their peak positions for two or more weeks, but I am only including the first peak date since the list is already long enough. The numbers in parentheses are the positions at which they peaked. Two tilde marks (~~) after a song indicates that it is only a short sample.

Sure, this is totally meaningless fluff, but so what? ;-) Enjoy.

Foolish Songs
01/07/50 - Foolish Tears - Johnnie Johnston - (33)
06/10/50 - My Foolish Heart - Gordon Jenkins & Orchestra - (2)~~
07/21/51 - I'm A Fool To Want You - Frank Sinatra - (27)
08/23/52 - Fool, Fool, Fool - Kay Starr - (22)
02/21/53 - (Now And Then, There's) A Fool Such As I - Jo Stafford - (13)~~
03/07/53 - You Fooled Me - Four Aces - (32)
08/22/53 - You're Fooling Someone - Joni James - (21)~~
08/22/53 - A Fool Was I - Nat "King" Cole - (26)~~
08/07/54 - I'm A Fool To Care - Les Paul & Mary Ford - (13)~~
03/19/55 - Young And Foolish - Dean Martin - (34)**
03/26/55 - Foolishly - Three Chuckles - (45)~~
04/30/55 - Foolishly Yours - Doris Day - (25)~~
05/21/55 - Young And Foolish - Jo Stafford - (40)~~
07/23/55 - Forgive This Fool - Roy Hamilton - (40)
08/13/55 - Fooled - Perry Como - (31)
04/07/56 - Why Do Fools Fall In Love - Frankie Lymon & The Teenagers - (2)
09/01/56 - The Fool - Sanford Clark - (8)
12/22/56 - Wisdom Of A Fool - Five Keys - (31)~~
07/05/58 - Fool's Paradise - Buddy Holly & The Crickets - (73)
08/02/58 - Poor Little Fool - Ricky Nelson - (2)
04/25/59 - (Now And Then There's) A Fool Such As I - Elvis Presley - (2)
05/23/59 - There's No Fool Like A Young Fool - Tab Hunter - (76)~~
07/11/59 - Oh, What A Fool - Impalas - (89)~~
09/12/59 - Two Fools - Frankie Avalon - (51)
10/17/59 - Fools Hall Of Fame - Pat Boone - (25)~~
03/19/60 - I Was Such A Fool (To Fall In Love With You) - Flamingos - (67)~~
06/25/60 - Everybody's Somebody's Fool - Connie Francis - (1)
10/15/60 - A Fool In Love - Ike & Tina Turner - (19)
12/24/60 - Fools Rush In (Where Angels Fear To Tread) - Brook Benton - (15)
03/25/61 - I Pity The Fool - Bobby Bland - (45)
05/20/61 - Foolin' Around - Kay Starr - (57)
06/17/61 - I'm A Fool To Care - Joe Barry - (19)
07/15/61 - Fool That I Am - Etta James - (51)
08/05/61 - Take A Fool's Advice - Nat King Cole - (67)
09/02/61 - Hello, Fool - Ralph Emery - (100)
11/25/61 - Fool #1 - Brenda Lee - (6)
01/20/62 - If You Gotta Make A Fool Of Somebody - James Ray - (18)
02/03/62 - Poor Fool - Ike & Tina Turner - (23)
05/26/62 - Thanks To The Fool - Brook Benton - (86)
10/27/62 - What Kind Of Fool Am I - Sammy Davis, Jr. - (14)
11/17/62 - I Was Such A Fool (To Fall In Love With You) - Connie Francis - (18)
03/23/63 - My Foolish Heart - Demensions - (87)
05/18/63 - Foolish Little Girl - Shirelles - (6)
08/24/63 - These Foolish Things - James Brown & Famous Flames - (67)
10/26/63 - Fools Rush In - Rick Nelson - (12)
11/16/63 - She's A Fool - Lesley Gore - (6)
12/07/63 - Stop Foolin' - Brook Benton & Damita Jo - (87)
02/08/64 - A Fool Never Learns - Andy Williams - (13)
02/15/64 - What Kind Of Fool (Do You Think I Am) - Tams - (9)
02/22/64 - Why Do Fools Fall In Love - Beach Boys - (94)
09/05/64 - If I'm A Fool For Loving You - Bobby Wood - (57)
11/28/64 - Runnin' Out Of Fools - Aretha Franklin - (61)
06/12/65 - You Were Only Fooling (While I Was Falling In Love) - Vic Damone - (28)
07/24/65 - I'm A Fool To Care - Ray Charles - (81)
08/14/65 - I'm A Fool - Dino, Desi & Billy - (19)
01/08/66 - If You Gotta Make A Fool Of Somebody - Maxine Brown - (63)
01/15/66 - Love (Makes Me Do Foolish Things) - Martha & Vandellas - (80)
05/21/66 - Love's Made A Fool Of You - Bobby Fuller Four - (51)
11/26/66 - A Day In The Life Of A Fool - Jack Jones - (55) (beautiful)
11/26/66 - Please Say You're Fooling - Ray Charles - (77)
01/07/67 - I Fooled You This Time - Gene Chandler - (45)
09/30/67 - I Make A Fool Of Myself - Frankie Valli - (21)
10/28/67 - Why Do Fools Fall In Love - Happenings - (43)
01/20/68 - Chain Of Fools - Aretha Franklin - (1)
03/16/68 - A Fool Of Fools - Tony Bennett - (95)
07/27/68 - Be Young, Be Foolish, Be Happy - Tams - (63)
09/28/68 - The Fool On The Hill - Sergio Mendes & Brasil '66 - (7) (beautiful)
11/16/68 - Fool For You - Impressions - (18)
02/22/69 - Foolish Fool - Dee Dee Warwick - (77)
06/14/69 - The April Fools - Dionne Warwick - (37)
07/26/69 - I'd Rather Be An Old Man's Sweetheart (Than A Young Man's Fool) - Candi Staton - (43)~~
09/27/69 - What Kind Of Fool Do You Think I Am - Bill Deal & Rhondels - (22)
03/14/70 - Oh Me Oh My (I'm A Fool For You Baby) - Lulu - (18)
03/21/70 - Silly, Silly, Fool - Dusty Springfield - (60)
07/11/70 - Trying To Make A Fool Of Me - Delfonics (41)
03/06/71 - Don't Let The Green Grass Fool You - Wilson Pickett - (10)
03/13/71 - Go On Fool - Marion Black - (93)
04/03/71 - I Pity The Fool - Ann Peebles - (84)
05/08/71 - Love's Made A Fool Of You - Cochise - (90)
09/18/71 - Won't Get Fooled Again - The Who - (9)
12/11/71 - Fool Me - Joe South - (93)
01/29/72 - Oh Me Oh My (I'm A Fool For You Baby) - Aretha Franklin - (70)
05/06/72 - Love's Street And Fool's Road - Solomon Burke - (82)
07/15/72 - Victim Of A Foolish Heart - Bettye Swann - (65)
10/07/72 - Toast To The Fool - Dramatics - (52)~~
10/14/72 - Everybody Plays The Fool - Main Ingredient - (1)
110/4/72 - Don't Ever Be Lonely (A Poor Little Fool Like Me) - Cornelius Brothers & Sister Rose - (23)
02/24/73 - Why Do Fools Fall In Love - Summer Wine - (100)
04/21/73 - Fool Like You - Tim Moore - (94)
05/19/73 - Fool - Elvis Presley - (79)
05/19/73 - Instigating (Trouble Making) Fool - Whatnauts - (96)
01/26/74 - A Fool Such As I - Bob Dylan - (47)
02/23/74 - You Won't Find Another Fool Like Me - New Seekers - (75)
12/28/74 - Dancin' Fool - Guess Who - (27)
04/05/75 - I'm Her Fool - Billy Swan - (63)
08/16/75 - (Shu-Doo-Pa-Poo-Poop) Love Being Your Fool - Travis Wammack - (50)
04/17/76 - Once A Fool - Kiki Dee - (85)
05/22/76 - Fooled Around And Fell In Love - Elvin Bishop - (3)
06/12/76 - Fool To Cry - Rolling Stones - (9)
06/26/76 - Fool For The City - Foghat - (57)
10/16/76 - I'll Play The Fool - Dr. Buzzard's Original "Savannah" Band - (83)
04/22/78 - Fooling Yourself (The Angry Young Man) - Styx - (23)
09/09/78 - Fool (If You Think It's Over) - Chris Rea - (10)
12/09/78 - Can You Fool - Glen Campbell - (39)
03/31/79 - Maybe I'm A Fool - Eddie Money - (25)
04/07/79 - What A Fool Believes - Doobie Brothers - (1)
05/26/79 - Dancin' Fool - Frank Zappa - (45) [kind of funny]
01/26/80 - Third Time Lucky (First Time I Was A Fool) - Foghat - (19)
02/23/80 - Fool In The Rain - Led Zeppelin - (31)
05/24/80 - Fool For A Pretty Face (Hurt By Love) - Humble Pie - (67)
09/06/80 - Fool For Your Loving - Whitesnake - (62)
10/18/80 - Who'll Be The Fool Tonight - Larsen-Feiten Band - (25)
02/07/81 - Fool That I Am - Rita Coolidge - (55)
04/04/81 - Who Do You Think You're Foolin' - Donna Summer - (38)~~
07/04/81 - Fool In Love With You - Jim Photoglo - (23)
08/04/81 - What Kind Of Fool - Barbra Streisand & Barry Gibb - (10)
12/19/81 - Why Do Fools Fall In Love - Diana Ross - (7)
04/17/82 - Find Another Fool - Quarterflash - (16)
04/24/82 - You Sure Fooled Me - John Hall Band - (78)
05/15/82 - Fool For Your Love - Jimmy Hall - (74)
07/17/82 - What Kind Of Fool Am I - Rick Springfield - (19)
08/07/82 - Foolin' Yourself - Aldo Nova - (69)
05/28/83 - Fool Moon Fire - Walter Egan - (38)
11/05/83 - Foolin' - Def Leppard - (27)
02/16/85 - Foolish Heart - Steve Perry - (23)
12/06/86 - Foolish Pride - Daryl Hall - (29)
02/14/87 - Nobody's Fool - Cinderella - (23)
04/25/87 - Ship Of Fools (Save Me From Tomorrow) - World Party - (34)
03/19/88 - Don't Make A Fool Of Yourself - Stacey Q - (75)
06/25/88 - Foolish Beat - Debbie Gibson - (1)
09/17/88 - Nobody's Fool - Kenny Loggins - (9)
11/26/88 - Kissing A Fool - George Michael - (4)
12/23/89 - Foolish Heart - Sharon Bryant - (90)