In the mid to late '50s I was a big fan of Roy Rogers. I always watched his show every time it was on our little black and white TV. It featured Roy and his horse Trigger, Dale Evans and her horse Buttercup, and their comic sidekick Gabby Hayes who sometimes rode his horse Phineas or drove an old military jeep he named Nellybelle. They usually either fought bad guys or rescued somebody from some dire situation.
There was also lots of singing of western themed songs on the show. Roy had a band called the Sons of the Pioneers. They sang and harmonized really well. When I'd lie in bed at night it would be real dark; the only light coming from the dial of the radio next to my bed. Whenever "Ghost Riders in the Sky" came on I would get kinda spooked but at the same time I liked it; a lot. They had a lot of good songs; "Tumbling Tumbleweeds", "Cool Water," and of course the show ended with "Happy Trails." I had a whole Roy Rogers outfit, cowboy hat, vest, chaps, toy guns, pajamas, and a lunch pail; with Roy Rogers name on all of it.
So one day I'm waiting at the end of our driveway for the school bus to pick me up and take me to Loma Prieta Elementary school. The houses were so far apart in the Santa Cruz Mts. that there wasn't really a bus stop you walked to. They just picked you up at your house. So I climb aboard the bus and right there in the front seat are two hoods right out of one of those bad '50s movies about rebellious teenagers. Hair greased back, t-shirts with the sleeves rolled up, black pants, and a menacing sneer on their faces. I could almost hear the sleazy saxophone music in the background. As I walk by them one of them sticks out his foot and trips me, sending me to the floor. My Roy Rogers lunch pail goes flying. I pick myself up, grab my lunch, and find a seat. This went on for some time. Occasionally the bus driver would yell at the hoods but not much came of it. I learned their names were Ratnose and Clancy. They were much bigger than all the other kids on the bus and they were scary. Once, after getting an elbow to the ribs from Ratnose, I'm looking for a seat and this kid says I can sit with him.
His name was Jason and we became fast friends. He had lots of freckles, buck teeth, and always had his mouth open. He also had a tendency to drool on his shirt. He was a little older than me and told me not to worry about Ratnose and Clancy anymore; he'd take care of it. Sure enough the hoods left me alone. Maybe they didn't want to get drooled on.
One afternoon my Mom calls out to me from the kitchen, "Bobby, there's someone here to see you." I run to the door and its Jason asking if I can go to his house to play. I ask my mom and she says yes. We climb into his mom's car and off we go. His mom is talking non-stop and I thought she was talking to us in the back seat but Jason tells me no, she does this all the time. She was having a conversation with herself. We went for quite a ways and she finally turns off onto a gravel road. It winds up and up this mountain until we get to the very top.
I had never seen a house like this before; it's very large and it's round. There's a second story that was a little smaller with lots of windows; it too was round with a round roof. The house looked like a flying saucer built out of wood and glass. There were some old rusting cars and tractors off to one side by a dilapidated old barn. Jason opens up the big double doors and we go inside followed by his mom who, for the time being, has stopped talking to herself. Jason gives me a tour of the house and explains that his dad is an architect and he designed the house and built a lot of it himself. There's a huge sunken round living room and in the middle is a round fireplace with the metal chimney that looked like an upside down funnel suspended by chains from the ceiling. We went outside and played on the rusty tractors and pretended we were driving them. I really wanted to see the little turret type room on the second floor but Jason said that was off limits. That was his dad's office and no one was allowed up there. His mom fixed us some sandwiches for lunch and then drove me home.
This was repeated many times. They'd pick me up; the mom talking to herself; Jason and I would play on the tractors and then go home. Eventually Jason and his mom started giving me a ride to school and back which was great because that meant I didn't have to deal with Ratnose and Clancy.
Then one day they didn't show up and Jason wasn't on the bus. He wasn't at school either so I thought maybe he was sick. After several days he's back on the bus but he looks really different. His head was shaved including his eyebrows. There were cuts and lumps all over his head and he didn't look too happy. He told me his mom was sick and in the hospital and then he just turned away and looked out the window. I think he was crying. Several years later my mom told me that Jason's mom was put in a mental institution. My mom felt bad for letting me ride around with Jason's mom but she didn't know about the lady's mental problems and looking back on it, my mom told me any number of bad things could of happened to me.
We moved away and I don't know what became of Jason, his mom, or Ratnose and Clancy; not that I care much about those last two! I've still got a few Roy Rogers record albums and although my original cowboy outfit is long gone, I bought a boxed set of DVD's of some of his shows and I bought a reproduction of a Roy Rogers lunch pail. So sing along:
"Happy trails to you... until we meet again... happy trails to you, keep smilin' until then....."
The Roy Rogers Show - Happy Trails to You
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Friday, May 6, 2011
Jason Milby
Jason Milby was a miserable man. He had no friends and was stuck in a dead end job with no chance of advancement. His life was the same every day. Get up, get dressed, and walk to work. His job was boring and redundant just like his life; just keep doing the same thing over and over. He didn't care for the people he worked with in the large nondescript building. They all talked about the scores of last nights games or about their children or any other topic they wanted to foist upon anyone within earshot. The one exception was a girl named Betsy who worked in a different department. She was always kind and helpful. She was concerned about Mr. Milby living alone with no friends, no hobbies, and no family. What relatives he had all lived far away and never called or came to visit.
One day Betsy brought in a kitten and insisted that Mr. Milby take it. He was reluctant but finally agreed. On his walk home he put the kitten in his coat pocket; it's head poking out looking at everything with an occasional little "mew." He stopped by a small grocery store and picked up a bag of groceries for himself and some food and kitty litter for the kitten. He'd never had a cat before but after a short time they became best friends. He never named the cat; just called it "cat." The cat would always greet him at the door to his small apartment when he came home from work. The cat was a small blessing for Jason Milby. At least someone cared about him and he had someone to care for. After a small dinner, cat would curl up on his lap while he read one of his favorite books, usually an adventure novel. Jason Milby would get lost in these books. He imagined himself in some far away jungle hacking away through the the underbrush with his machete or sailing to exotic ports on a three masted ship visiting beautiful deserted islands. But this was not to be, as Jason Milby was in his small apartment with his cat in his lap waiting for another day to pass.
Mr. Milby always took the same route to and from work. He had done this for so many years he often thought to himself he could do it blindfolded, except of course for the intersections with the cars whizzing by. So Jason Milby is on his way home from work with a stop at the small store for a frozen dinner and maybe a treat for cat. He rarely cooked a dinner; just bought things that could be heated up; frozen pizza, canned stew, or soup.
He was almost to the store when he saw a big commotion ahead. Firetrucks, ambulance and police cars. The whole area was blocked off with yellow caution tape. He was directed to use an alternate route by a policeman. There had been a bad accident and no one could enter the area.
Now all the years Mr. Milby lived in this city he had never walked on this other street. He was so close to the market and then just another block to his apartment. He kept looking back over his shoulder at his familiar surroundings wishing he could just go the way he always did.
It was a warm afternoon so he stopped to take off his coat and carry his hat. He even rolled up his shirt sleeves; something he hadn't done since he was a kid. He starts walking and sees an attractive young woman dressed all in white walking in the opposite direction. She smiles and says, "Hello there." Mr. Milby, not used to talking to strangers, especially pretty ones, manages to stammer out, "Uh, hello." Strange, he thinks, I don't know that woman. Why would she say hello to me? Just then a small boy runs past and brushes against Milby's pants leg. The boy stops and says, "Sorry Mister." Milby just smiles and waves to the young lad.
The sun is beating down on his thinning hair and reflecting off his glasses. It reminds him of when he was a boy and his grandfather took him fishing ever so often. The sun bearing down as they sit beside a clear cool mountain lake. Fishing pole in hand; hoping for an interested trout. His grandpa always looked like he hadn't shaved in a week. White stubble covering his lined face with his ever present pipe clenched between his teeth. The smell of the cherry flavored tobacco mixed with scent of the pine trees.
He makes a turn at the corner and is relieved as he's getting closer to home. Half way down the block he spots a small butcher shop. He enters, hoping he can find something for cat and himself. He walks by all the glass cases with steaks, chicken, and pork. He notices, at the very back of the store, a section for fish. The butcher says, "The trout is fresh; just came in today and I'll sell it to you at half price." Mr. Milby picks out a nice big one to share with cat. The butcher wraps it up and wishes him a good day. Jason Milby thinks, my, people sure are friendly around here.
Jason Milby is now walking with a little spring in his step. He's going to have trout for dinner, something he hasn't done in so long he cannot remember when was the last time. He finally makes it to the apartment building and climbs the stairs. Sure enough, cat is waiting at the door and smells the fish instantly. Mr. Milby and cat are excited; fresh trout stuffed with chopped onion and fried in butter. This is a special occasion so Milby digs through the closet to find an old radio that he hasn't played in years, plugs it in and it still works. Jason Milby gets busy chopping the onion and getting out a suitable pan. He tunes in a good radio station and finds himself humming along to the music. He is smiling as cat rubs back and forth on his shins hoping he'll drop something to the floor. The fish starts to sizzle and pop in the pan.
Suddenly there's a knock at the door. Who could that be? He rarely has visitors. Opening the door it turns out to be the young couple who live down the hall. "Um, excuse me Mr. Milby, but is everything alright? We heard music and could smell something cooking." You see, Milby had lived such a quiet existence eating his canned food this was quite out of the ordinary, and certainly no music ever came from this apartment. Milby invites them in, Bill, his wife Karen, and their young boy, Tim. Milby has never had this many people in his apartment before. He scrambles looking for some folding chairs and an old bottle of wine he had saved.
The house guests are seated and Milby explains how he bought the fish at the butcher shop. He turns down the music and Bill and Tim walk into the small kitchen area to look at the trout. It's so big it barely fits in the pan. Bill says, "Man, I haven't been fishing in years, Mr. Milby." Milby replies, "I haven't either and please just call me Jason, or better yet, Jay." Milby pours the wine and finds a soda for Tim in the back of the refrigerator. Milby, the host, invites them to stay for dinner but they decline. Bill asks Milby if he knows of any good fishing spots around the area. Milby tells him of where he went as a boy with his grandfather and it's not too far away. He describes the beauty of the place and the hungry trout that ply the cool clear mountain waters. Bill asks, "Mr. Mil...er I mean Jay, could you show us where this lake is sometime; it sounds like heaven. We could all go together and make a day of it." "I'd be glad to; how about tomorrow?" replies Milby. Bill responds, "But a couple of things, Jay, I smoke a pipe and I don't want it to bother you, and also, don't you have to work tomorrow?" Jason Milby smiles and says, "I'm fine with pipe smoke and I'm calling in sick tomorrow. I'm sick of work and the only cure is to go fishing."
The next morning the four of them pile into Bill's car and head for the lake. Tim sings a song he learned in school and pretty soon they're all singing. They arrive at the lake and it's just as Milby remembered it. Bill lit his pipe and sure enough, it was cherry flavored tobacco. The water is like glass, reflecting the mirror image of the trees and the mountains which still had snow on the very top. Karen had packed a picnic lunch which they enjoyed as the sun shined down. The water was occasionally disrupted by a trout leaping catch an insect. They all caught a fish or two, but Tim caught the biggest. It was a wonderful day. One they would repeat many times.
If Jay hadn't taken that detour that day to the other street he never would've met his new friends. He never did go back to his job. He moved out of the city and into a cabin close to the lake. But then again, maybe he was the one in that bad accident by the store and this was all a dream. Either way, he's in heaven. It's said you can still see old Jay walking along the shore of the lake, fishing pole in hand, with cat following close behind.
One day Betsy brought in a kitten and insisted that Mr. Milby take it. He was reluctant but finally agreed. On his walk home he put the kitten in his coat pocket; it's head poking out looking at everything with an occasional little "mew." He stopped by a small grocery store and picked up a bag of groceries for himself and some food and kitty litter for the kitten. He'd never had a cat before but after a short time they became best friends. He never named the cat; just called it "cat." The cat would always greet him at the door to his small apartment when he came home from work. The cat was a small blessing for Jason Milby. At least someone cared about him and he had someone to care for. After a small dinner, cat would curl up on his lap while he read one of his favorite books, usually an adventure novel. Jason Milby would get lost in these books. He imagined himself in some far away jungle hacking away through the the underbrush with his machete or sailing to exotic ports on a three masted ship visiting beautiful deserted islands. But this was not to be, as Jason Milby was in his small apartment with his cat in his lap waiting for another day to pass.
Mr. Milby always took the same route to and from work. He had done this for so many years he often thought to himself he could do it blindfolded, except of course for the intersections with the cars whizzing by. So Jason Milby is on his way home from work with a stop at the small store for a frozen dinner and maybe a treat for cat. He rarely cooked a dinner; just bought things that could be heated up; frozen pizza, canned stew, or soup.
He was almost to the store when he saw a big commotion ahead. Firetrucks, ambulance and police cars. The whole area was blocked off with yellow caution tape. He was directed to use an alternate route by a policeman. There had been a bad accident and no one could enter the area.
Now all the years Mr. Milby lived in this city he had never walked on this other street. He was so close to the market and then just another block to his apartment. He kept looking back over his shoulder at his familiar surroundings wishing he could just go the way he always did.
It was a warm afternoon so he stopped to take off his coat and carry his hat. He even rolled up his shirt sleeves; something he hadn't done since he was a kid. He starts walking and sees an attractive young woman dressed all in white walking in the opposite direction. She smiles and says, "Hello there." Mr. Milby, not used to talking to strangers, especially pretty ones, manages to stammer out, "Uh, hello." Strange, he thinks, I don't know that woman. Why would she say hello to me? Just then a small boy runs past and brushes against Milby's pants leg. The boy stops and says, "Sorry Mister." Milby just smiles and waves to the young lad.
The sun is beating down on his thinning hair and reflecting off his glasses. It reminds him of when he was a boy and his grandfather took him fishing ever so often. The sun bearing down as they sit beside a clear cool mountain lake. Fishing pole in hand; hoping for an interested trout. His grandpa always looked like he hadn't shaved in a week. White stubble covering his lined face with his ever present pipe clenched between his teeth. The smell of the cherry flavored tobacco mixed with scent of the pine trees.
He makes a turn at the corner and is relieved as he's getting closer to home. Half way down the block he spots a small butcher shop. He enters, hoping he can find something for cat and himself. He walks by all the glass cases with steaks, chicken, and pork. He notices, at the very back of the store, a section for fish. The butcher says, "The trout is fresh; just came in today and I'll sell it to you at half price." Mr. Milby picks out a nice big one to share with cat. The butcher wraps it up and wishes him a good day. Jason Milby thinks, my, people sure are friendly around here.
Jason Milby is now walking with a little spring in his step. He's going to have trout for dinner, something he hasn't done in so long he cannot remember when was the last time. He finally makes it to the apartment building and climbs the stairs. Sure enough, cat is waiting at the door and smells the fish instantly. Mr. Milby and cat are excited; fresh trout stuffed with chopped onion and fried in butter. This is a special occasion so Milby digs through the closet to find an old radio that he hasn't played in years, plugs it in and it still works. Jason Milby gets busy chopping the onion and getting out a suitable pan. He tunes in a good radio station and finds himself humming along to the music. He is smiling as cat rubs back and forth on his shins hoping he'll drop something to the floor. The fish starts to sizzle and pop in the pan.
Suddenly there's a knock at the door. Who could that be? He rarely has visitors. Opening the door it turns out to be the young couple who live down the hall. "Um, excuse me Mr. Milby, but is everything alright? We heard music and could smell something cooking." You see, Milby had lived such a quiet existence eating his canned food this was quite out of the ordinary, and certainly no music ever came from this apartment. Milby invites them in, Bill, his wife Karen, and their young boy, Tim. Milby has never had this many people in his apartment before. He scrambles looking for some folding chairs and an old bottle of wine he had saved.
The house guests are seated and Milby explains how he bought the fish at the butcher shop. He turns down the music and Bill and Tim walk into the small kitchen area to look at the trout. It's so big it barely fits in the pan. Bill says, "Man, I haven't been fishing in years, Mr. Milby." Milby replies, "I haven't either and please just call me Jason, or better yet, Jay." Milby pours the wine and finds a soda for Tim in the back of the refrigerator. Milby, the host, invites them to stay for dinner but they decline. Bill asks Milby if he knows of any good fishing spots around the area. Milby tells him of where he went as a boy with his grandfather and it's not too far away. He describes the beauty of the place and the hungry trout that ply the cool clear mountain waters. Bill asks, "Mr. Mil...er I mean Jay, could you show us where this lake is sometime; it sounds like heaven. We could all go together and make a day of it." "I'd be glad to; how about tomorrow?" replies Milby. Bill responds, "But a couple of things, Jay, I smoke a pipe and I don't want it to bother you, and also, don't you have to work tomorrow?" Jason Milby smiles and says, "I'm fine with pipe smoke and I'm calling in sick tomorrow. I'm sick of work and the only cure is to go fishing."
The next morning the four of them pile into Bill's car and head for the lake. Tim sings a song he learned in school and pretty soon they're all singing. They arrive at the lake and it's just as Milby remembered it. Bill lit his pipe and sure enough, it was cherry flavored tobacco. The water is like glass, reflecting the mirror image of the trees and the mountains which still had snow on the very top. Karen had packed a picnic lunch which they enjoyed as the sun shined down. The water was occasionally disrupted by a trout leaping catch an insect. They all caught a fish or two, but Tim caught the biggest. It was a wonderful day. One they would repeat many times.
If Jay hadn't taken that detour that day to the other street he never would've met his new friends. He never did go back to his job. He moved out of the city and into a cabin close to the lake. But then again, maybe he was the one in that bad accident by the store and this was all a dream. Either way, he's in heaven. It's said you can still see old Jay walking along the shore of the lake, fishing pole in hand, with cat following close behind.
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