Larry grabs my flag and then tries to kill me! My own brother!

Hayter’s article for Nov 28, 2021

"Thanksgiving Flashbacks"

Older Brother Larry with Mark's flag in hand is still going in for the tackle!

          The greatest speech in the history of mankind began, “Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth, on this continent, a new nation...” Abe Lincoln realized that “Fourscore and seven” sounded more impassioned than, “Eighty-seven years ago our fathers brought forth…”

Unfortunately, by the time most in the crowd figured out the math on “Fourscore and seven” Lincoln was probably at the part of the speech where he says “…shall not perish from the earth.” – “What? That’s it? You call that a speech?”

I went through that bit of history to tell you this. Twos-core and one year ago I wrote my first post-Thanksgiving article. It was titled “A late shoppers survival guide:” Editors have always come up with the vast majority of my titles. That’s a good thing because it takes me so long to invent a name that doesn’t confuse readers. The articles themselves can do that.

While my shopper’s survival guide did save lives, it wasn’t nearly as interesting as the one the week before about UFOs. I don’t know if you’re aware, but extraterrestrials were around here even in the ‘80s. Yet, after two-score years, we’ve still been unable to capture a believable photo of a space alien. We’ve got plenty of photos of Bigfoot, but the only one in focus shows a zipper running down his back. For some nay-sayers, that places doubt on its authenticity.

          Let’s get past all of that. I was researching some of my old articles to see if I could find the first one in which I wrote about the Hayter Thanksgiving Day Football Game. The tradition had been going on for many years before the article, but we always had trouble getting press coverage. It was not until Nov 28, 1982, the year after the shopper survival piece, that we got our recognition. Our games were two-below or flag. Well it would start out as either two-below or flag football, but generally ended with tackle. In the ’82 game, the team of Big Al, Mom, Debra (my niece), Lynda, and I were against Larry, Dennis, Jill, Ray (my nephew), and Cheryl (my niece). Nothing against Mom, but that woman couldn’t run a decent pass route to save her butt. I’m sorry, Mom, but you couldn’t.

          I don’t care to talk anymore about the game, because my team lost. I don’t care what I told her, but Mom couldn’t block, couldn’t catch, and ran like an old lady. I have to say, though, she was a great cook. And, off the field, she was very much loved.

          After finding our first reported game, I looked for the last. Found it in 1995. At the time, none of us knew it was our last game. We didn’t even have a Christmas game after this. What happened was, I had the ball and was trying to juke Larry out of my way when my Achilles tendon snapped. After hitting the ground, I raised my foot, and all it did was hang down. Seemed odd to me. I went into a little more detail back in the ’95 piece. I must tell you, though, to this day I am still upset that they continued the game without me. The brothers helped me into the car and then went back to the game. And, I was the quarterback of my team! How do you even have a game after your star player is out? Jill probably took over for me. That girl could play. She obviously got more of Dad’s genes than Mom’s.

Kay drove me to the emergency room in The Woodlands, and the person on duty told me to stay off my foot. He was a genius! Did I mention that my foot was just dangling? Early the next week, a real Doc reattached the tendon with a few nails. I seldom get details from doctors. The next year, there was no football because Dennis had some cardio difficulty, and Larry had an ailment. I don’t remember what. Regardless, we had no Thanksgiving or Christmas games in ’96. And, as mentioned, we haven’t played since. Oh, we’ve tossed the football around, but never got to tackle mom or anyone else again. During the last 10 years of her life, Elsie Hayter never got tackled. That’s just sad.  

Now for the weird part. That Achilles tendon incident happened one score and six years ago practically to the day, and tomorrow I have to go see a physical therapist because my Achilles tendon is acting up. The thing gives me extreme pain anytime I lean forward. I had an MRI taken a couple of weeks ago, and the results showed physical therapy might keep my toes from pointing to the floor.  

The big problem for me is that if therapy fails, I will lose the ability to beat Brad at racquetball. The time my hip started giving me trouble, that guy did not let up a bit. I’m hobbling around, while he smashes the ball from one side of the court to the other. And, he’d say cruel stuff like, “By the way, you know there is no rule against you using that thing in your hand to hit the ball, don’t you?” Bradford Meyers? Not a guy to lose to.

I’ll just have to see how physical therapy works out. If I fail to mention racquetball in 2022, you’ll know it didn’t go well.  --  Regardless, search for enjoyable moments during your Christmas shopping. There may not be many, but they’re there, all right.

end

hayter.mark@gmail.com

 

Tracy and Maggie

 

MARK HAYTER                                               hayter.mark@gmail.com

 

Hayter article for November 21, 2021

“Tracy” 

Tracy with Kay holding Maggie

          It was 53 years ago that I drove the family’s 65 Pontiac Tempest over to the house of my friend, Kay Cross, a cute girl I knew from junior high. I had recently seen her at a mutual friend’s wedding. I called her later and asked if she’d care to go out with me and talk over old times. You can’t get more romantic than that. Oddly enough, she accepted. So, this was to be our first date. 

 

          I hoped like all get out that Kay would meet me at the door and we’d be out of there. I’m not a fan of meeting a girl’s parents, especially on a first date. My previous experiences had been awkward. The parents of the girls weren’t mean, just aloof. None of ‘em seemed to give two hoots who their daughters dated. I doubt any of ‘em knew or even cared what a nice guy I was. The rudest experience I had was with one my date’s older brother. That kid seemed to hate his sister and me both. I couldn’t get out of the house fast enough.

 

          So, I was nervous as all get out when I rang the doorbell at Kay’s house. We were just friends. I didn’t even know how I should act around her. And, as I stood at the door, I much preferred not meeting her parents. I didn’t want to get God involved, so I didn’t pray about it. I just kept saying to myself, “Please answer the door, Kay! Please!”

 

          Kay’s dad answered the door. He was a tall guy with a nice smile. Rather handsome for a date’s dad. I pick up on stuff like that. “You must be Mark. Get in here. Kay will be ready in a little bit.” Whew, that went well. He then told me that he had been in the kitchen working on the washing machine. He felt it rude to leave me alone in the living room, but he feared he might forget how to put the thing back together if he left for any duration. He took me to the kitchen to show me what he was talking about. Holy cow! I didn’t know a washing machine had that many parts.

 

          It wasn’t 30 seconds before a kid in a wheelchair zoomed in from the hallway. I don’t remember what he said, but I remember we both got tickled over it. “Mr. Cross, said, Tracy, behave! Take Mark to the living room. Kay will be there any minute.

 

Tracy had to be about 14 at that time. I was more relaxed around Kay’s brother than anybody’s brother I had ever known. I was experiencing the complete opposite of what I feared. To this day, I think God was paying attention when my brain asked for Kay to answer the door. -- “Not going to happen, Mark. Something much better.”

 

          Before leaving I got to meet Kay’s mom, who had a great sense of humor and was just as nice as could be. Tracy was right behind me as we exited. He said to me, “Remember, she doesn’t like anybody touching her.” The kid was crazy. Crazy cool.

 

          Tracy was in a wheelchair due to osteogenesis imperfecta. Brittle bone disease. The ailment was first suspected after he broke his leg at the age of one. Once his leg healed he was able to walk until he was about seven years old. Then he broke his other leg while pushing a wagon. This time the doctor inserted a rod into his femur, a metal rod with larger dimensions than required. The procedure caused him much pain for most of his life. Despite that, each time I saw him, he was able to maintain an upbeat attitude. His quips were spontaneous. I thought he should’ve been a comedian, but he took to music. Learned to play the guitar, and became the lead guitar player in a rock ‘n roll band. The group changed its name several times. The last one was “Party Favors.” I remember seeing the group on stage. Tracy was sitting on a short stool, playing the lead-in to Creedance’s “Around the Bend”. -- “Come on the risin’ wind. We’re comin’ up around the bend!”  

 

          Since I’ve been using the past tense in my discussion about Tracy, you have sensed that he died. Kay got the news on September 28th of this year. A brain aneurysm, stroke, blood clot…? He was susceptible to a bunch of ailments. His friend, Ed, discovered him lying against the other side of a closed door.  Ed was Tracy’s best friend and the manager of Party Favors. He and Tracy had just come back from visiting, Charlie, one of their old band members who was under hospice care. Tracy died at his home one hour after visiting Charlie. Charlie died a couple of hours later.

 

          I put off telling you about this because I dreaded writing the story. One thing I left out was that Tracy had a small dog, A cairn terrier, named Maggie. Just as cute a dog as you’re going to find. She was in her 14^th year, which is a lifetime for a cairn terrier, and didn’t take Tracy’s death well at all. Ed left Tracy’s wheelchair in a corner, and Maggie would sit under it for most of the day.

 

          Ed took care of Maggie for a couple of weeks after Tracy’s death. Tracy’s dear friend, Ann, eventually took Maggie to live with her. Early last week, Ann called Kay to let her know that Maggie died. She had refused to eat. She was an old dog that had lost her will to stick around. That’s what I think.

 

          Kay cried when she got the news. Being a Hayter, I never had any pets. Maggie was probably as close as I’ll ever get. She made me a believer that there are dogs in heaven. I only cried at the news of the dog’s death, because Kay was crying. That girl can sure do it to me. -- But, Tracy? He always made me laugh. 

 

End

hayter.mark@gmail.com

 

         

 

         

 

         

Hayter article for November 14, 2021

“Weird Stuff”

You may have noticed that I’m attracted to weird stuff. – “Unusual behavior.” “The seldom seen.” “The difficult to explain.” And, of course, “that which cannot be explained”. I gravitate toward every one of those things.

Regrettably, when things get weird, I seldom have a pen to write with, paper to write on, or a cellphone to take photos of. Which introduces my first weird finding. That first sentence in this paragraph happens to contain a collection of four thoughts each of which ends in a preposition. The outlawing of sentences ending with a preposition was enforced by each English teacher I ever had. While I have often attempted to abide by grammatical laws, I no longer give two hoots about the one involving the use of a preposition.

The birth of the prepositional law dates back to 1672 when literary critic, John Dryden, criticized the long-deceased playwright, Ben Jonson, for ending his sentences with prepositions. Dryden must’ve been well respected because the prepositional ending to sentences took root as a law of English writing and speech. Finally, the Merriam-Webster dictionary informs us that there never was anything wrong with sentences that end with prepositions. They may sound odd to many teachers of whom I was one. Yet, I am proud to say that I never corrected prepositional endings while grading essays. So my friends and editors please heed Webster.

That factoid is an example of weirdness that interests me. As does a few of these oddities. I shall begin with the 64 South African penguins who were murdered by honey bees. My immediate reaction was, “You mean there are penguins in South Africa?” The tip of Africa is noted for its treacherous seas. What is called the Cape of Good Hope, was originally named the Cape of Storms.

Had the original name stuck, I doubt the Penguins would have gone to such lengths to settle in the area. I seriously doubt the honeybees would be there unless farmers raised them. Begging the question, how can there be any farming at the Southern Tip of Africa? It makes me feel like an idiot that I actually taught geography once and never mentioned honey bees at the tip of Africa. Weird.

Almost as weird as the news in last Thursday’s Courier. Seems Montgomery County is one of a few Texas counties due to lose its quarterly federal funding for rent relief. The money was to be dispersed among those who can’t afford their rent and the landlords who need to have the rent to pay for the houses. The article by Rebecca Schuetz refers to the Emergency Rental Assistant Program that the Federal Government established last January. At that time Montgomery County was allotted $18.6 million for rental relief. As of Sept. 30, the county had succeeded in dispersing two percent of its funds. Any nu-distributed money will have to go back to the Federal Government by Nov 15. That’s, like, tomorrow.  

Keep in mind that the entire program was paid by every federal taxpayer in the country. Texas had no such program, so it was a godsend to us. Now, about 98 percent of our money will be distributed among those counties that are utilizing their funding. At least people from other counties will benefit from the program. I have every confidence that this week a county official will address the situation and announce a program to better use federal funding. It would be weird if that didn’t happen.

Almost as weird as the Moon’s wobble. Hey, I was as surprised as you. The wobble of a large rotating object in space isn’t really a wobble. That’s just what astronomers call it. Let me say right here, that I know what a wobble is. I’ve even been known to have a wobble, yet mine was in no way what the astronomers consider a wobble. The moon’s wobble has to do with its revolution around the earth. The moon never takes the exact same path. While it should continue to revolve around the earth, some paths can be damaging to us. About every 20 years or so, the path of the moon gets closer to the earth than usual. Since its path is oblong, I assume that means that for half the day it will be closer and for the other half of the day it will be further away. I would tell you why that is if I had even the smidgen of a clue. 

Well, as you may know, our ocean tides are created by the gravitational pull from both the sun and moon. About 10 years from now, both the sun and moon will be in a position that will cause a more powerful gravitational pull. That’s what happens during the eclipse of the sun. However, on this occasion, the tides will be exceptionally high. True, this happens every 20 years or so, however, our oceans have risen a bit over the last 20 years and should continue to do so for another 10, as the ice caps continue to melt. This will bring about an increase in the increase in areas that get flooded, and the heights of the floodwaters. 

Unless something unhealthful happens to me, I should be able to witness the upcoming experience. Twenty years later, I likely won’t be that involved in the occurrence. I imagine insurance companies have already been adjusting their policies accordingly. A wise move.

And, perhaps the Texas Governor and Legislature will prepare some kind of program for the approaching floods. – That was a joke. I only touched on politics because of my glee over the truth that came out about prepositions ending a sentence. It is a happening that some teachers will refuse to put up with. And, that’s something I’m sure of.

 

end

hayter.mark@gmail.com