Five Points
Revisited Scooba Mississippi
I needed to be in Petal, MS, sometime last Tuesday morning, to
help prepare for a new store opening the following morning. However, a
troublesome crown on an upper molar fell off, while I was brushing my teeth
after breakfast. It wasn’t the first time; I’ve had a problem with
the crown, and I’ve been babying it since a few days after the last
time Dr. Murphree had to re-cement it. There’s nothing but three roots
for the crown to adhere to, and now two of them have split apart from the
third one. Trying to manage eating with a missing crown is tough enough,
but when the crown helps anchor a partial dental appliance, it’s even
tougher, so I headed east towards Tupelo to visit my dentist, prior to driving
to Petal.
Upon my arrival at the dentist’s office, Dr. Murphree and his wife,
Vickie, expressed concern over my recent heart attack as they welcomed me.
Dr. Murphree was able to cement the crown to what remains of my molar. He
also told me the best scenario facing me is to remove the roots and add a
tooth to my existing crown. Hopefully, I will be able to postpone that procedure
until after the annual fish fry.
After leaving the dentist’s office, I stopped by the office of my
cardiologist to pick up a document giving me permission to return to work.
It seemed like the morning was already spent by the time I left Tupelo, but
it may have only been nine o’clock.
By the time I got to Macon, MS, my early breakfast had played out, and I
was wondering where I could find a healthy snack, which, I’m certain
the reader understands, is important to victims of heart attacks. Convenience
stores aren’t the best places to find a healthy snack, but I nevertheless
weighed my choices of locations between Macon and Meridian. I could remember
there were three stores located at an intersection in Scooba, two of which
are relatively new businesses, a BP station and a Texaco station. The oldest
of the three sells Chevron gas and boasts the name "Briggs Five Points,"
which names the owner and ties his name to the nearby five-way intersection.
What I really wanted was a pack of nabs and a banana. I wasn’t sure
I’d find a banana at a convenience store, but because I once had car
trouble in Scooba and found the folks at Briggs accommodating, I decided
to chance finding a banana there. Nabs are a stock item in any convenience
store, bananas aren’t.
I don’t normally buy nabs at a convenience store. I usually purchase
them in packs of eight at the grocery store and keep them inside my car in
the passenger seat, up close and handy. Since I kept to the house last weekend
and let Barbara do all the grocery shopping, I forgot to ask her to pick
up a new pack for me.
Stepping into Briggs store is like stepping back in time. It’s not exactly
a general store, but it fits that format better than it does a modern convenience
store. It has a small restaurant and in addition to a produce and meat
department. Of course, it’s a stretch to consider a handful of produce
items a department and the meat case harks back to the service counter days
of yesteryear where a butcher cut mostly on a demand basis. Most of the meat
items were deli meats and cheeses and if you’ve a hankering for a bologna
sandwich they’ll make you one.
They were out of bananas the day I was there and the beverage selections
heavily favored the beer-drinking crowd. There were, however, a few juice
drinks derived from concentrates, and I settled on cranberry juice cocktail.
I reasoned if I couldn’t have a banana, perhaps the juice would satisfy
my fruit craving. I never did locate any Tom’s nabs and had to settle
for a pack with the Lance brand. The man at the checkout counter asked if
the two items I selected would be all I needed, and I responded they were.
The total came to $1.46.
I reached into my pockets and produced a five-dollar bill along with two
quarters and handed it to him, stating, "Here’s five fifty."
I watched as he scooped out four pennies and four one-dollar bills and waited
until he was about to hand me my change before stating, "I don’t want
the pennies, sir. They won’t spend in North Mississippi."
He grinned and responded, "You don’t want your pennies?"
"No, sir; I don’t"
He was a friendly storekeeper and asked a lot of questions, like where I
was from and if I were a salesman. There’s something about a clean-shaven
stranger in business casual clothes inside a country store that automatically
categorizes him as a "traveling man." And, one of the oldest professions
for travelers is that of "salesman." He also shared that he grew up in the
store and remembered doing his homework on the Coca Cola box that shoppers
of today have to walk around upon entering the front door.
I pointed to the Globe Simpson scales on the checkout counter and commented
that I had weighed a lot of meat on a similar scale in my youth. Somewhere
into our conversation he asked my last name and I carelessly failed to ask
his name.
He thought he knew someone from Pontotoc but couldn’t recall who it
was.
"Gordon? He’s from around there isn’t he?"
"You mean Jack Gordon? I think he’s from Okolona."
Finally he asked how often I came through Scooba.
"Oh, I don’t know…maybe a dozen or more times a year," I replied,
wondering why he asked.
"There’s a reason, I asked," he responded, as if he’d read my mind,
but about then his wife called him to the phone.
"Let me get this, and I’ll explain," he stated.
I waited, while he took an order for a couple of slabs of barbecue ribs.
He then walked over to one of the refrigerated display cases, opened the
door and retrieved a pint jar and scratched the price off with his thumbnail.
"I’m gonna give you this," he said, handing me the jar.
I spun it around and noted it didn’t have a label.
"What is it?" I asked. "It looks like a dressing, or a spread."
"You can put it on a salad, or spread it on bread. It’s also good on
a steak. It’s something my family’s been making for years and years."
"What do you call it?"
"Aw, we just call it ‘Y’all come back to see us’ or ‘come
back dressing.’"
Note: Also known as "Come Back Sauce."
"Will this keep all right un-refrigerated?"
"Sure, until it’s opened, just don’t let it sit in direct sunlight."
"What’s your last name?" I finally thought of asking.
"Briggs," he replied.
I should have guessed that, based on what he had previously told me, but
I didn’t want to guess wrong.
"This store’s been in our family for sixty years," he stated. "We may
make it a hundred years, if my son takes it over."
I wished him and his family well as I left and said, "Well, thanks for the
dressing. If it’s any good, I’ll be stopping in to buy some the
next time I come through."
Music Week
Afternoon Of Worship
For the past eighty-two years, the National Federation of Music Clubs has
sponsored National Music Week. I would not have known that, had I not attended
a program hosted by the Pontotoc Music Study Club, which was held at the
Pontotoc County Library last Sunday afternoon. Actually, I might have missed
the program altogether if Miss Virginia Dillard had not invited me when I
visited her the previous day.
"Ellen Wicker Cummings and a couple of her friends will be singing," Miss
Virginia told me.
Miss Virginia didn’t have to sell me on the idea, as I had attended
one of the club’s programs a year or so ago and had thoroughly enjoyed
it.
"Yeah, but a lot of Ellen’s music is "high church," I protested, before
adding, "But I enjoy hearing her sing."
Ellen will always be Ellen Wicker to me. I knew her in my youth as the daughter
of Fred and Wordner Wicker. Her younger brother is Roger Wicker, now a U.
S. Congressman representing my district in North Mississippi. Roger and Sarah
Sue graduated in the same class at PHS. Ellen and her husband live in Virginia
Beach, VA, but because she still has family in Pontotoc, she committed to
the Pontotoc Music Study Club and brought a couple of her singing friends
to perform with her.
Miss Virginia called me Saturday night to let me know the song titles the
trio planned to sing and to inform me that both men and women would be reading
prose and poetry, all part of "A Program of Sacred Music, Poetry, and Scripture."
When she finished reading the list, she said she thought she knew all of
the songs except one. Since the songs were all sacred music, I knew most
of them, but not as many as Miss Virginia knew. I thanked her for the update
and promised I’d attend the program, if I could keep Barbara awake until
2:30 Sunday afternoon.
As expected, I enjoyed the program from the first chord of the first song,
through the several readings, and the final musical number. I later told
Ellen, I could have skipped church that morning if I had known what was in
store for the afternoon. I particularly enjoyed, Amazing Grace, New Born
Again, Victory in Jesus (audience got to sing along), Alleluia: All the Ages,
and Holy Ground.
Judge Fred Wicker did his usual great job of reading, and I particularly
enjoyed his reading of "Grandmother’s Bible," "Opportunity," and "Psalm
of Life." The last two were poems that I was exposed to in high school, and
I got a little emotional reminiscing how in sophomore English, our teacher,
Hazie Furr, insisted we learn Opportunity, by Walter Malone. Miss Hazie believed
in oral recitation and taught us a lot about speaking to a group.
The scripture passages read by Dr. Threadgill and Dr. Hester blended well
with the sacred music and secular readings. Perhaps, the most surprising
aspect of the afternoon was the program was not as well attended as I would
have expected. There may have been thirty-something folks there, but the
seating could have accommodated quite a few more. All I know to say to readers
is if you want to attend next year, then stay in touch with Miss Virginia
for the date and time.
Runaway Bride
No Lawsuits Please
Jennifer Wilbanks disappeared several days ago having last been seen heading
off to for a daily jog. Family and friends in her Duluth, Georgia hometown
were distraught over her disappearance, and rightly so, for the attractive
32-year old woman was expected to marry that weekend. Through round-the-clock
coverage, the media has a way of drawing the public into the lives of individuals
especially when small town events become national news. Early into the search
for Jennifer, folks speculated she might have developed a case of "cold feet"
and simply ran away from the pending wedding. Of course, whenever a young
female is missing, others look for more sinister elements to explain the
situation, and all too often in today’s society the doomsayers get it
right.
I spent last week recuperating from angioplasty following a mild heart attack
and was often tuned in to new developments concerning Jennifer’s
disappearance. After she had not been heard from for a few days, I mentally
earmarked her as a victim of foul play and fully expected her to turn up
dead. When, finally, she was heard from, I surfed into MSNBC as an interview
with a former FBI profiler was concluding. I was able to discern that Jennifer
was alive, and I was thrilled that she had not been murdered. I wasn’t
prepared to hear the former FBI profiler comment that Jennifer owed an apology
to a lot of people, and he listed those in the news media and police
investigators.
Within hours, the media was parading, into my living room, folks, who agreed
with the profiler. "Yes," they shouted, "Jennifer owes us an apology," with
‘us’ being everybody from civil servants to search volunteers.
About the only individual not hopping mad at Jennifer was the minister who
was to have performed the wedding ceremony. At one time, authorities were
considering filing criminal charges for her making a fraudulent 911 call
in Albuquerque, NM, and it’s being reported that the District Attorney
in her home town is also considering filing a lawsuit against Jennifer. Perhaps,
police will one day be looked upon not only as agents to "serve and protect,"
but also to "sue."
I’m a little perplexed by all the negative attitudes and comments. From,
what I’ve gleaned through the news, Jennifer was smitten with the "runaway
bride" syndrome and saw flight as the best way to preserve her freedom from
the mounting pressures facing her. Who among us can fault her for her choice?
You or I might have chosen differently, but who should condemn our choice?
As far as I’m concerned, Jennifer doesn’t owe anyone an apology
for her actions, and especially not the search teams, the police, or the
media. As for the rest of us, perhaps we need to reflect on the adage, "There,
but for the grace of God, go I."
Bodock Beau Late
Night Offerings
Late night offerings from both Letterman and Leno appear below.
David Letterman
"Top Questions To Ask Yourself Before Camping Out To See 'Star Wars'":
-
"Why don't I have anything better to do?"
-
"How many Wookies does my tent sleep?"
-
"Exactly when did I give up on doing anything meaningful with my life?"
-
"Will I be teased by roving gangs of Trekkies?"
-
"If I use all my vacation days now, how will I take that trip to ice planet
Hoth?"
-
"Does Starbucks let guys dressed as galactic bounty hunters use their bathroom?"
-
"If I had a girlfriend, what would she think?"
Jay Leno
Pope Benedict the Sixteenth said that he prayed that he would not get elected
but then he did get elected. Today Hillary Clinton called the pope and said
"Hey can you pray for me in 2008?"
He had hoped to live his last years living quietly and peacefully, and today
Al Gore said 'You know, it's not that great.
DIRECTV announced it's coming out with satellite as an option in the Cadillac
Escalade. The Escalades have incredible stereos in them, refrigerators, now
satellite TV. Do you realize they're just one bathroom away from being a
mobile home?
Andy Rooney is at it again -- last night on "60 Minutes" he blasted three
commentators for appearing on the CBS Evening News without wearing ties.
He says he can remember when he started, reporters always wore ties and a
powdered wig and buckles on their shoes.
The Navajo Nation is debating a law that would outlaw gay marriage. This
law would be a disaster to Skipping Bull and Shopping Bear -- the two gay
Native Americans.
Mexican Earthquake
A big earthquake with the strength of 8.1 on the Richter scale has hit Mexico.
Two million Mexicans have died and over a million are injured. The country
is totally ruined and the government doesn't know where to start with providing
help to rebuild.
The rest of the world is in shock. Canada is sending troops to help the Mexican
army control the riots.
Saudi Arabia is sending oil.
Other Latin American countries are sending supplies. The European community
(except for France) is sending food and money.
The United States, not to be outdone, is sending two million replacement
Mexicans.
Contributed by Bing Crausby
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