June 14 '03
Volume 367
Bock Brown To
Wed June 14, 2003
On Saturday,
June
14th, 2003, Kathy Bock of Brandon, MS, and Brett Brown of Pontotoc,
MS, will wed in Nashville, TN. Ridge Rider News has been somewhat delinquent
in reporting the forthcoming marriage, but then it hasn’t been that
long ago that a date was set. In fact, we had to delay setting a date for
the fish fry, until a firm date had been set for the wedding.
At one point, there was talk of having a destination wedding. That’s
where a couple decides on a destination, such as the Bahamas, Mexico, Paris,
or Las Vegas, then travels to the chosen destination to get married. Typically,
such weddings deprive family members the joy of witnessing the marriage ceremony.
Of course, the family is spared the expense of things such as the rehearsal
dinner, wedding director, floral arrangements, wedding cake and food for
the reception, not to mention space for all the above. It’s not uncommon
for the total costs of a wedding to exceed $10,000, and I watched a program
on the Food Network the other night where one couple spent $50,000 for their
wedding that included a black tie dinner for the reception.
There was also a time in which Kathy and Brett considered eloping, but that
may have been tied to the destination wedding idea. Personally, I prefer
church weddings to all other settings, and having done that (had a church
wedding), I don’t expect to ever do it again. Marriage is something
I strongly recommend, but once is enough.
After due consideration of the alternatives, the Bock/ Brown wedding will
be a church wedding. It is being held at the St. Matthias Episcopal Church
in Nashville, TN. Nashville was chosen because several Bock family members
live in the area, and it is convenient for Kathy’s grandmother, whose
health is failing fast, but she hopes to live long enough to see her
granddaughter married. Grandma’s health is the reason for a June wedding
as opposed to one previously considered for July or
August.
My family will be arriving shortly after noon on June 13th in
order to assure everything is in order for the rehearsal dinner that evening.
I’ve watched Sarah worry and fret over the expenses of the rehearsal
dinner, which if observed by a bystander, would lead one to think her distress
was in paying for the entire wedding. I asked her what she planned to do
when Felicia gets married. She claims she is definitely pushing Felicia toward
elopement, though that may be years away.
There have been no wedding showers in the Pontotoc area, but one was squeezed
in, in Brandon, MS, last weekend. If anyone is interested in helping the
couple setup housekeeping, a number of items are needed, not all of which
are among those registered at McRaes. I regret most readers will not be reading
this wedding announcement prior to the day of the wedding, but if desired
gifts may be forwarded to the couple through Sarah Brown or Barbara Carter.
Coke Soda Or Pop
One Nation - Three Choices
Champaign, IL, is the home of The University of Illinois, and perhaps another
twenty thousand folks who call it home on a more permanent basis, though
the greater Champaign Area numbers more than one hundred thousand inhabitants.
It’s not a place I would choose to live, as it’s flatness reminds
me too much of the Mississippi Delta. It’s not a place I care to visit,
either, for I have no family ties in Champaign, and the Ole Miss Rebels
don’t have the Fighting Illini on their schedule. But, then I don’t
follow the Rebels around the country; so it doesn’t really matter, but
I did need a third reason not to be in Champaign, in order to round out my
series of objections.
I’ve only been to Champaign twice and both instances occurred this year,
first in early January and, more recently, the first week of June. The weather
was cold both times, but there was no snow on the ground on my June trip,
and while a topcoat kept out the cold in January, only a sweater was needed
in June. Both times, I found myself in Champaign were for business purposes.
With the regional office for Supervalu having been moved from Atlanta, GA,
to Kneosha, WI, using the Supervalu facility in Champaign is completely logical
as it is more centrally located for my northern colleagues than say, Indianola,
MS.
Though I’m told Coca Cola is sold in Champaign, I’ve had trouble
finding it on the menu in all but one of the six restaurants in which I’ve
dined during my two trips to Champaign. That’s a situation which, of
itself, is just cause for a Mississippian to be unhappy in Champaign. North
of the Mason-Dixon Line, we Southerners don’t expect to find grits,
but Coca Cola is a must-have.
One member of our group (from the Champaign Division) allowed he’d
experienced something similar with respect to a choice of a soft drink and
recounted his having trouble finding a Pepsi in Biloxi on his last trip to
Mississippi. However, I don’t think it’s as difficult for a Pepsi
lover to drink a Coke as it is for a Coke lover to drink a Pepsi. You may
well imagine our dinner group’s reaction to my finally discovering an
eatery that sold Coca Cola, and I ordered a Sprite. However, I keep my allegiance
to the Coke brand by choosing from the same family, and when I want an un-cola,
nothing beats a Sprite.
As interesting as I find the regional differences of soft drink preferences
to be, even more interesting are the different names used in describing soft
drinks. For example, most Southerners understand that Coke is a trademark
name for Coca Cola, but it is also a generic term for any soft drink product.
And, it absolutely baffles a Yankee that we ask one another, "What kind of
Coke do you want?"
We understand that fully to mean, "What brand of carbonated beverage would
you like to drink?" and not, "Do you want a Vanilla Coke, Cherry Coke,
Caffeine-Free Coke or Diet Coke or Caffeine-Free Diet Coke?"
In fact, it’s strange to us that other regions of the country call a
Coke, a "pop" or a "soda." I grew up in a time when at least one drug store
in town had a soda fountain service. If you’re not familiar with soda
fountains, you’ve missed one of the best treats imaginable. Carbonated
water or soda water was mixed with a flavored syrup to create a frothy beverage
similar to the bottled and canned Cokes (used generically) available today.
When I was a child, carbonated drinks were not household items. Yes, they
could be purchased, but nobody I knew kept them at home, and all of the Cokes
I drank were purchased at a store and consumed on or near the premises in
order to avoid paying a deposit on a refillable bottle. The few soda fountain
drinks I remember were treats above and beyond the bottled variety.
I was a teenager at the time refrigeration became available to the masses
and folks began to purchase Cokes by the six-pack or the case and either
refrigerate them or serve them over ice due to the ability to manufacture
ice at home. Though, I have no memory of the family of my youth ever purchasing
a case of carbonated drinks, we did buy the occasional carton of drinks,
all of which is a far cry from today.
My son and my nephew consume Cokes like there’s no tomorrow. As a teen
and later as a young adult, I couldn’t get my fill of milk. I drank
it for all meals except breakfast. At breakfast, I did use a little milk
in my sugared coffee, but I never remember liking milk as a beverage for
breakfast. Yet the availability of Cokes in the home has robbed many a child
or youth the joy of drinking coffee at breakfast with the adults.
But, back to my assessment of regional differences in the generic name for
a soft drink. My son, Jason, recently emailed to me a map of the U.S. depicting
the results of a survey. Folks all across the country were asked, "What generic
word do you use to describe carbonated soft drinks; Coke, soda, pop or other?"
Not surprisingly, The Southeast was solidly Coke, but there must be enough
northern transplants in Florida to give "soda" a significant presence with
two out of five choosing soda, though Coke captured half the state.
Because my sister-in-law, a native Minnesotan, was the first person I ever
heard ask, "Do you wanna’ pop?" I expected Minnesota to be "pop country."
They were, with 85% choosing pop. In fact most of the states north of the
Mason-Dixon line were pretty solidly "pop" states, with most exceptions occurring
on the East Coast, where soda is king. Soda was preferred, by a large margin,
among eastern states including Maine, Rhode Island, Vermont, Virginia, and
New York. Also, soda was a huge winner in California, New Mexico, and Nevada.
States having the hardest time reaching a consensus for a generic name included,
Pennsylvania (split between soda and pop), and North Carolina which was evenly
divided between soda and Coke.
Based on my limited exposure to Illinois, I was not surprised by the tally
in Illinois, which had pop with 67% of the total and soda with 26%. I suppose
the most surprising results, at least for me, were found in the "other"
classification. Names such as soda pop, drink, cold drink, and drink were
common to a number of states whose respondents chose "other." Interestingly,
two Mississippians chose "drank." Cocola found it's way to the "other" column
in Alabama, Mississippi, and Georgia, and a redneck in Florida chose "coler."
Across the whole United States, soda led with 38% edging out pop at 37%.
Coke trailed a distant third capturing only 20% of the total responses, while
the "other" category finished with a miniscule 4%. It would appear Southerner's
are out of step with the rest of the country regarding a generic name for
soft drinks, but that's not going to shame us. We like our Southerner ways
just fine.
Twilight Zone
Reprinted From 1998
There remain more things unexplained in this world than have an explanation.
Why are small, petite girls attracted to tall, towering boys? Why does
a pretty girl choose to marry a dog-ugly boy? Did Lee Harvey Oswald
act alone? What really happened to all the folks lost in the "Bermuda
Triangle"? Do UFO's visit planet Earth and occasionally abduct Earthlings
for scientific experimentation? Can the "baby boomers" count on their Social
Security benefits being there when they retire? Is there a fifth dimension
or twilight zone? These are questions that seem to have no firm, proven
answers. Each person may have an opinion concerning each of the above,
but proof is a different matter.
Rod Sterling the creative genius of the television show, The Twilight
Zone not
only provided entertainment for the masses, but also gave us reason to ponder
the unexplained. I have experienced the realm of something like the
Twilight Zone. It was an unforgettable experience that to this
day defies conventional logic. After having been warmly chastised by
Pat Fannin for sharing my sexist thoughts on women and logic, I hesitate
to use the word logic. Upon reading what I have to relate, you may
conclude that this writer is still in a twilight zone, has been in one for
years, and has no hope of emerging from it, but perhaps you will understand
that bizarre things sometimes happen to ordinary people, people you know.
I still drive to Ripley ever four to six weeks to get a haircut at the Razor's
Edge Barber Shop. There, Malcolm Lindsey has cut my hair since February,
1970. My son has never used a different barber and was with me the
day of our Twilight Zone experience. Jason was about twelve
years old at the time.
Ripley is also the home of First Monday or Trade Day, which
has expanded from its early beginnings of a day set aside for farmers to
gather to trade and barter guns, knives, dogs, mules or whatever else had
value. It is now much like a large open-air flea market with more trading
by persons who make a living or supplement their livelihood at flea markets
than old-time bartering. I mention Ripley's First Monday because
it begins late on Friday afternoon before the first Monday of every month,
and the traffic congestion near Ripley has often prompted me to take an alternate
route to the Barber Shop. Old Highway 15 diverges from the present Highway
15 at North Haven, north of New Albany and reconnects with Highway 15 north
of the First Monday grounds near Ripley. This allows me to travel
to Ripley in about the same amount of time as I could on Highway 15 without
traffic congestion, and it permits me to miss all the First Monday
traffic when that event is occurring.
On the day of the Twilight Zone incident, Jason and I were on our
way to get a haircut and were using the alternate route, probably in order
to avoid the First Monday traffic. I remember it was also a
very rainy day. We were between the Blue Mountain exit on the old road
and Ripley, when a detour forced us to turn left off the paved road onto
a graveled road. I had driven on the graveled road before, in my days of
exploring Tippah County, and knew that it would eventually lead me back into
Highway 15 just south of the Lowery place.
While driving on the gravel road, Jason and I entered the Twilight Zone.
(I can sense my spirit tense as I relive the event.) Just as the music
intensifies prior to a frightening scene in a horror flick, it seemed the
rain worsened shortly after we began our trek on the graveled road. I
could scarcely see to keep the vehicle out of the ditches, and I remember
my concern that I might get the car stuck if I had to pull over when meeting
another car or truck.
Minutes passed, and we had not arrived on Highway 15 as I had calculated.
More minutes passed, and I could no longer sense our direction. I
had the nauseous feeling that accompanies not knowing where I was. When
we finally came out on a paved road, I really did not know where we were
or which way to turn at the intersection to get to Ripley.
The torrential rain had ceased, and I was glad to see a paved road. My
instincts directed me to turn left on the paved road. Given a fifty-fifty
chance, I will guess wrong about 80% of the time, but that time I got lucky.
After driving for about a mile on the paved road, I came to a familiar
intersection. I realized I was at the intersection of old Highway 15 and
Buena Vista Road. I was quite puzzled as to how I could have been on
Buena Vista Road since it runs east from old Highway 15, and Jason and I
had turned off the old highway to our left, or west. How did we get
on the opposite side of old Highway 15, I wondered? I was certain I
would have remembered our crossing back over the old highway, but as far
as I could tell we had not crossed back over the road.
I also remember telling our barber, Malcolm, of our strange journey on the
gravel road. Though he knew the area we had traveled, he could not
recall any gravel road that crossed old Highway 15 between the Blue Mountain
region and Buena Vista road.
There is a lot of uncertainty about what happened to us that morning, and
I have never found a road that crosses old Highway 15 between the point I
first exited it and the point I re-entered it. I remain as perplexed
today as then. I have no explanation as to how we ended up on the opposite
side of the highway a few miles north of where we first entered the Twilight
Zone. If we were beamed aboard an alien craft and later placed down on
the wrong side of the road, neither Jason nor I can remember any part of
that experience. There may be a logical explanation, but there may
also be a dimension of time and space in which few enter and fewer still
exit. Many are left to wonder if it really happened or not. (The preceding
is the second in a series of articles that were first published in
RRN five years ago.
Bodock Beau Roll
Naked
Blondes do take a beating in the world of humor. However, every once in a
while a joke comes our way that turns the tables on conventional thought.
Such is the following:
Roll Naked
Two bored casino dealers were waiting at a craps table. A very attractive
blonde woman arrived and bet twenty thousand dollars on a single roll of
the dice.
She said, "I hope you don't mind, but I feel much luckier when I'm completely
nude".
With that she stripped from her neck down, rolled the dice and yelled, "Mama
needs new clothes!"
Then she hollered, "YES! YES! I WON! I WON!"
She jumped up and down and hugged each of the dealers. She then picked up
all the money and her
clothes and quickly departed.
The dealers just stared at each other dumbfounded.
Finally, one of them asked, "What did she roll?"
The other answered, "I don't know, I thought YOU were watching!"
Moral of the story: Not all blondes are dumb, but all men...are men.
Submitted by Bing Crausby
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