Bastille Day

 

Bastille Day

Noel Laflin

7-14-23

 

Tom, Jim, Marilyn and I threw a Bastille Day party 45 years ago today. I think it was to celebrate our leaving the old place and moving to better, bigger digs. Regardless, Marilyn thought we needed a theme.  As the party was falling on July 14^th, Bastille Day became the reason.

 

I remember folks storming the old apartment that night, but they came bearing copious amounts of alcohol, instead of clubs, knives and guns, so all was well in the end.

 

Marilyn, being the smart one in our household, thought everyone should sing the French National Anthem, La Marseillaise, so she wrote out the words and made copies for all to sing at the stroke of midnight.

 

Unfortunately, few in the crowd read French, let alone knew how to sing, so there was a lot of drunken humming instead. So all was well in the end there too.

 

 

 

Billy the Kid

 

Billy the Kid

Noel Laflin

7-14-23

 

Sheriff Pat Garrett shot Henry McCarty, popularly known as Billy the Kid, to death at the Maxwell Ranch in New Mexico on this day in 1881, which puts into question the story an old cousin of ours, who grew up on a ranch in rural New Mexico, used to tell us when we were young.

 

Our old cowboy cousin would regale us kids with tales of the Old West. I especially liked the time he and his mother once hid Billy the Kid in their barn as the posse was hot on his tail. They did so upon pain of death if they did not comply, or so Dick would tell us. He said he was five or six years old at the time, but remembered it like it was yesterday. The rifle pointed from the barn, directly at his head, when the posse stopped to question them as they stood upon the old house porch, was enough to make them lie and swear the outlaw had never passed their way.

 

Billy eventually saddled up his horse, tipped his hat, and thanked them both, before riding off into the sunset once the coast was clear - or so Cousin Dick concluded, then asked us kids if anyone had a smoke handy after recalling such a horrendous experience from his youth. We said no, and he replied that it was okay, before wandering off in search his tobacco pouch.

 

It wasn't until a few years ago that we uncovered the fact that our old cousin was actually born two years after the death of Billy the Kid. As Dick had died fifty years prior to this finding, it was difficult to bring this little detail to his attention.

 

Somehow, I wish we had never learned of this discrepancy as his story was a riveting one. And I, once upon a time, believed it all, hook, line and sinker, as it was told so well by a friendly former cowboy of the Old West - the land of wonderful tall tales.

 

Gifts

 Gifts

Noel Laflin

6-27-23

After a close friend of mine died two summers ago, his brother bequeathed me several of his personal belongings, including his Scout merit badge sash.

Fred had all 21 required badges for Eagle Scout, which he became in the mid 1960's, with four to spare, judging by the final count here.

Scouting is where we met back then, and where we formed the most lasting of friendships even long after our youthful years in the mountains together were but mere memories.

The sash remains a treasured gift.

Independence Day

 

Independence Day

Noel Laflin

July 4th, 2023

Thirty-three years ago today, I called a boss I could not stomach regarding a job that was turning my stomach even more so. I was in a tough spot both mentally and physically and knew that staying where I was with this outfit was bad news.

So, when she answered the phone, I took a deep breath and said, "We both know this isn't working out. And since it is Independence Day, I quit."

And wouldn't you know it,  physical health returned, my mind settled down, and life worked out just fine.

Slow, Slow, Quick-Quick

 

Slow, Slow, Quick-Quick

Noel Laflin

7-4-23

I have friends that have taken on Face book aliases for various reasons. One informed me today by saying, "Hey, Noel, it's me, Bob. I am just masquerading as Barbara since someone highjacked my real account."

I congratulated him on the disguise, which reminds me of the time a seven-foot tall Baloo the bear hugged me as I left a restaurant in Disneyland years ago and whispered from behind the screened face, "Hey, Noel, it's me, Tommy, from Floyd's!" Floyd's was a gay country western dance bar back in the day. I had two-stepped with Tommy on several occasions and always found him to be quite fun to be around, not to mention a good dancer.

Then tall Baloo wandered off to silently resume his non-speaking Jungle Book role to the delight of a group of giggling four year old girls.

And I could swear he was performing a slow, slow, quick-quick dance move as he danced out of the restaurant a moment later.

 

Note of Compassion

 

Note of Compassion

Noel Laflin

6-30-23

 

Sometimes, when you wonder if you had been of any practical help to folks from your past (in this case, pairing my many years in sales with a young kid just getting started in the field), you get an unexpected note from that former youngster and suddenly you break out in a big smile:

"Just so you know, I often talk about my mentor in sales and how his abilities and mentality came from a place of compassion rather than winning."

 

Maybe that's why we won so often when we teamed up together.

 

I have since left that all behind me, but am pleased to know that compassion still thrives and will be passed along down the starting line like a firmly held baton in a long distance race.

 

Hearing

 

Hearing

Noel Laflin

 

 

6-18-23

 

Despite a sinus infection that decided to take up residency in my ear canals earlier this week and render sound ever so far away, it's been a grand Father's Day.

 

There's been a fine meal already, with another yet to come, a discovery of a hummingbird nest, warm phone calls with family, and even though Krysten works today, we do have tomorrow by which to meet up and enjoy a meal together with David.

 

And I am glad that I recall a bit of sign language as it allows me to talk to myself. It doesn't help much communicating with others around me currently, so when they speak, I just smile, nod affably, and hope I don't appear snobbish for not joining in the conversation.

 

And as for tomorrow, well, we've got a doctor as a lunch companion to help with the inner ear situation, if needed. And if the hearing problem still persists, we're going to see just how much of her ASL skills Krysten still retains. It's only been since her freshman year in high school, so no problem!

 

 

7-1-23

 

It's good to hear again more clearly, so let's eat!

 

The sinus infection that led to the constant white noise in my noggin three weeks ago has departed and normal sound has returned - for the most part. And it's getting better every day too.

 

I suddenly noticed the click of the medicine cabinet when it closed yesterday, along with other everyday sounds, like the rustle of fabric, the sound of water coming from the garden fountains, finches chipping, the soft clink of my belt buckle, songs on the car radio.

 

I am not asking David to speak up now either, which is a relief to him as well, no doubt.

 

I am not advocating the loss of senses, obviously, but when one does (albeit temporarily) and it eventually does return like the prodigal son down on his luck, well, I can see why all is forgiven and the fatted calf is served in celebration.

 

We settled for hamburgers, but close enough.