THE FOOTNOTES

YOU COULD GET HURt LIKE THAT

The war had ended, and in the process of going home and being discharged, I was in a place called Camp Elliot in San Diego, along with a lot of other guys headed for home. The barracks were like chicken coops. God knows how many of them were there, but they all looked alike to me. The heads, (navy toilets ), were in separate buildings, as were facilities for washing your clothes

When I went out of the building for some personal matter, I had trouble relocating my own barracks. I solved that problem creatively, I believe. I would stick my head in the door of a barracks and shout Anybody here from Connecticut?” When I got the reply, “Yeah, he just went out to the head, I had the right place.

We had time on our hands since we had no duties to perform and we would hitchhike to Los Angeles which was only 125 miles away. Getting a ride was easy because everyone was grateful we had won the war. The concept of distance, by the way, was different out there. In Connecticut, 125 miles wa a trip and a half. Not there.

One day, several of us set out for L.A. and were picked up in short oder by some guy we didn’t realize must have been drunk. San Diego had several naval stations which were separated from each other, and for reasons unknown, our driver went speeding to another base whose entrance was guarded by armed Marines. Persons wanting to enter the base were stopped by the Marines who admitted those authorized. . Not our driver. He didn’t even slacken speed, but sped right through the gate past the Marines and onto the base. I was sure we would be shot, and slumped down in my seat. For another unknown reason, our driver stopped the car and let us out. We had liberty cards and simply walked back out the gate to resume our trip to L.A, leaving the guy to explain he himself to pursuing Leathernecks. (Marines). Wonder if he’s out of Federal Prison yet.

The picnic was to be held at our house n Wilcox Street. Nancy, who was an excellent cook, offered to make the potato salad. She must have been distracted while stuffing the kids into the car at their house on Vine Street. She placed the big bowl of potato salad on the roof of their car while quelling some kind of disturbance in the back seat. Never thought of the potato salad again until they got out of the car in our driveway. The potato salad was right where she placed on Vine Street---on the roof of the car.

Moe and Nancy were very good bridge players. They were partners against Bill and me. In the absence of skill, I sometimes substituted obfuscation and/or confrontation in an effort to confuse the issue. This sometimes led to some disarray. One night in a spirited contest, I raised some questions relative to the accuracy of the score which was Nancy’s province. As that dispute raged, Bill excused himself and went upstairs to tend to personal matters. Moe and I Left the building, I in a huff, before Bill came back downstairs. Bill’s reaction was memorable: “Where did everybody go?” he inquired of Nancy.

Bridge is not a friendly game. and competitive bridge, as in Duplicate Bridge is kill to win. That’s why it is not a good idea to have a spouse as a partner. You take the fight home. I will relate what is said to be a true story of bridge disagreement. Police were called to a home where a disturbance was in progress. A 140 pound man had beaten up his 200 pound partner, both wives, broken up the furniture and then fought with police. The judge hearing the case evidently was a bridge nut himself. When the defendant told the judge what had happened in the bridge game to precipitate the riot, the judge dismissed the charge saying, “They deserved it!”

This boy is a real cutie. He was about to be killed in the Fulton County Animal Control facility, so I grabbed him. The volunteers wrote a lot of wonderful things about him on Facebook and he's a Shepherd mix. I couldn't resist. He looks like Pepper, except for a silver stripe down the back of his neck.

I'm thinking of calling him "Mr. Bingley." What do you think? He came with the name "Shelton," which I don't like - sounds like the shelter he came from, where he narrowly escaped death.

Suggestions, anyone?

She's a good sport, though. She likes Patrick and Paul, despite their attempts to make her look silly sometimes. This was Pauly having fun with my girl. She figures it's better than the reindeer antlers I made her wear last Christmas.

Here's Peggy at the celebratory dinner for Moe and Dad's anniversary. As I said, we had a wonderful time together. It made me miss my childhood - we used to see our siblings all the time and get to play games, run around the yard, and talk about all the big and small things that make life interesting. Remember things like: "let's go lie down and laugh!" or playing Stratego or Trouble (before Moe threw it out the back door in a huff)? Remember the sound of baseball games on the TV during the summertime in Connecticut? I love that sound to this day and associate it with beautiful weather and the security of living with loved ones. [note: I will not rehash all the ways my siblings stole my food and exploited my labor...]

Ha!

Regarding Peggy, though, we had a bunch of laughs over "Figurines" and other songs she would belt out at the top of her lungs. She was a singer, that one.

It's not always convenient to see our family members, but it is always worth it. I'm glad we made the trip this year and I will remember it fondly.

Another big highlight of the 2012 Noonan reunion (you know, an event that grows in stature each year), was spending time with Mara and Peggy. We stayed at a beautiful old Bed & Breakfast in Akron, about 15 minutes away. We had a 4-room suite, with 3 BRs and a sitting room. We felt like the sisters from Pride and Prejudice, just waiting for Mr. Darcy or Mr. Bingley to show up any moment. Unfortunately, they didn't. How much would I like to see Colin Firth show up in my hotel? Fugggedaboutit! But, I digress. We enjoyed chatting every night before retring to our respective chambers. Lovely.

I'll let Mara and Peg chime in with the history of our B&B, the O'Neil House. O'Neil was a big tire company executive and had  bunch of children (5?), but not as many as the Noonans. I wonder what kind of damage we would have done to a mansion...

As you know, Betsy and Charlie hosted the 2012 Noonan Family Reunion, an almost-famous event that grows in stature with each passing year. Unfortunately, we didn't have everyone with us, but we still had a lot of fun. A big highlight was the party at the Country Club, which Betsy organized and paid for. Thanks, Bets!! It was beautiful and provided us an opportunity to grill Moe and Dad on all the details of their 61 years of marital bliss. We asked about how they fell in love, why they chose a honeymoon in Asbury Park, and what is the secret to such lifetime happiness....I mentioned that they were perhaps the first real-life "Jersey Shore" couple, which provoked spirited discussion and new (clever) nicknames from brother Bobby, like "Snookie" and "The Situation." If you watch that show, you will know how funny that is! So, now you can call Moe "Snookie" whenever you like, but especially when she's clowning around in a hottub with some hottie...Ooops, oh no she didn't!

Chris was visiting Peachtree City last weekend. Look at how tall and handsome he is! Apparently he's a chip off the old block - they went golfing with Uncle Paul, where Chris showed he can drive a ball as far as the old guys. That's impressive. He's studying Business Administration at the University of Hartford and doing very well. Chris has always been a hard worker outside of school, too. He is working in a landscaping company this summer, making pretty good money from what I can tell. All in all, Chris is really growing into a fine young man. It was a pleasure to see him!

I had some people over for my birthday a few months ago. Paul, Maria, and Anthony (aka "Bub") joined us for a cookout. My neighbor Steve Palmer, pictured here, also came over.  Atlanta is so nice and green - March is one of the nicest months down here with perfect temps and flowers everywhere. You should visit next spring.

The blog is a family history book. This collage was hidden away in a folder where nobody could see it.

Should we play that game again? Whoever comes up with the winning quote for this scenario will get a good old-fashioned Noonan reward...what's that you ask? It's a highly valued social commodity called a "thank you." Now, stop bugging me and get to work on this!

Admit it  - this is what we waited to see all night!