My Friend Jody
That crazy redhead on the left is my friend Jody. We worked together as ballroom dance instructors in Houston for many years. Now you know why I like to watch Dancing With the Stars. This season was particularly fun because I knew Mark Ballas, the professional who danced with Cloris Leachman. His Dad, George Ballas, owned Dance City, the mega-huge studio where Jody and I taught. We hardly ever saw George because he was busy in offices next door inventing things. One day George came to our teacher staff meeting and told us about this great new invention he had. He had a contract to provide this revolutionary item to the city of Houston and he needed some extra money to speed up production. He had a stock offer for us. We could buy stock in his new company for fifty cents a share. Seemed like a good idea to us so we all dug deep and bought lots and lots of stock. The new invention was named that day. It was called the Weed Eater.
Jody had a heart transplant a number of years ago and only lived a year or so after the transplant. She wasn't a Catholic and I don't recall her ever attending any church. But she had more Christian charity and goodness than many of the "good" Catholics I have met - including yours truly.
Before she died we would talk on the phone about the state of young people. She hit the nail on the head when she said, "Darlin, they aren't doing anything we didn't do, but at least we knew it was wrong. These kids today think it's alright."
This was taken a number of years after we left the business and you can see we are doing what we did best - smoke and drink. I miss Jody..............
6 comments:
This is a time of year when our thoughts naturally wander to our friends -- both those still with us and those who have gone before us. I often think of family members who have passed away, my grandmother, my father, my great-aunt. It's funny that certain seasons or times trigger these thoughts. I miss my grandmother the most during the Christmas season, but in the summers I achingly miss my father. I guess it is an association thing -- I associate Christmas more with my grandmother, but summertime was when I did things with my father when I was a boy.
And then, sometimes, we just miss people. Friendship gets short-shrift in our society. It isn't seen as something all that important. But it is. I have friends who are closer to me than family -- who really are family. That's a special thing.
Well, I have three observations:
1--I get lonly for gone friends this time of year.
2--The weed eater was a great invention! I hope your stock did well!
3--"A number of years ago" you were really cute! and I bet you still is!
So true about the young today not knowing what they are doing is wrong.
Oh shucks, IR - you make me blush!
The stock? If I still had it I'd be a millionaire. Who knew?
What a lovely tribute to your friend. I am thinking of friends too this time of year.
My father brought home this new invention one fine spring day back in the 1970's , and I was so happy that I almost cried. My brother ,and I had to use the old hand clippers, and clip the entire circumference of our yard most every Sunday - by hand even with our blisters we still clipped on.
My family wasn't religious. Only I was (I am a genetic fluke). So they didn't go to church. I would on occasion go on a church bus that would come around the neighborhood.(Baptist)
So my Dad has working with this NEW weed eater upside down on his belly. He was trying to figure out if he had enough string in the bottom,and he yelled at my Mom in his mean voice -to hold the other end, then my Mom who was holding the trigger accidentally turns it on and whips the hell out of my Dads belly, but she didn't know that she was holding the trigger, so she wouldn't stop. He looks at my Mom ,and cusses like it's the apocalypse or something, and yells get your -$%%#%% %^%^$$& *^*^ hands off of the trigger Alice.
My Mom replies "oh Jim, I am sooo sorry". Then he composes himself- barely- well at least he tried not to cry, then they resume the same position, and Mom accidentally whips his gut again, and again we hear the hole litany of cuss words, perhaps he even created some new ones, Mom pipes in - Oh Jim ,I am sooo sorry, and at that point my brother ,and I both kinda wanted to slap her too, because she was making all of our lives much harder than it usually was, and it usually sucked to begin with.
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