Give me Liberty, and probable death........

Where ya live, who ya live near, who ya live with - ALL, invoke differing opines of like, dislike, love, hatrid.

Turn left if yain't from Liberty, Missouri.. or, hover if ya wanna if you're from smalltown America and hopefully this congers a special memory or two......

Blogging is seemingly ALWAYS thinking, "the hell should be written about today?"...

My thought was 'feel good.' Merriam tells one "relating to or promoting an often specious sense of satisfaction or well-being."

Damnit-darnit, 65 years old and another word (specious) I have no idea whatintheheck it means. (Did David Moffitt usedta work for Merriam?)..hehe.. S'more Merriam: specious "superficially plausible, but actually wrong." Well, heck to the no, that's not fun to write about. Merriam relates there's anudder definition:

"Cheerfully sentimental - a feel-good movie."

Aha, that's what I'm talking about.

Give me Liberty, and probable death...........

A Lovey Houston McBowl 300 burger. I'm too damn old to fist fight, but I might if you tell me you've had a better burger somewhere else. Yum to the yummy.

Steamed up windows on "The low road."

A lunch tray, borrowed from Dean Nay/WJC, sledding down the hill from Jewell Hall.

30 trips at night from The Square to the "Ku Ku" (sp?).....

Fitteen cents a gallon at the Robo Car Wash (hence, the 30 trips a night.)

Nuttin' personal, the hideous green, girl's PE outfits from Eisens.

Surfer shirts, so popular, that Bud Brant had a hard time filling orders fast enough.

Talking Mr. Hallisy down a dime on that end table, no additional charge for his smile, permeating niceness.

To the Twin, or to Clayco, maybe in the trunk, and for sure the world's worst hamburger, either place.

Getting behind a car on The Square, they ain't from Liberty, and they stop at EVERY corner on The Square.

High upon the hill at the Methodist Church, standing between the spotlight and the church, creating 30 foot tall shadows.

A down Kansas, left on Water, left on Franklin parade. Cop car in front, Sheriffs on horseback, band/pep club right behind, football players atop the fire truck, Queen/court in convertibles, Mayor, dignitaries too.. pooper scooper at end.

Ball glove on bike handlebars, "Indian Ball" at the City Park with a similar cast every summer - delighting in recall even though there is vast difference in memory over the years of who usedta win, who usedta lose.

The Carnival at Franklin.

A Jesse James reenactment.

Christmas lights around the Square.

A curiosity drive around town after a bad, strong winded storm.

"Fill 'er up, regular please."

Sterling 1, Thornwall 7.

Fifteen 9 and 10 year old Little Leaguers, running as fast as they can from the Franklin Ball Field, across Mill Street (little or no regard to sporadic traffic) to the Mug's Up for a 5-cent root beer.

Mr. Weston's "STEEEEEEERIKE THREEEEE, YOU'RE OUTTTA THERE!"

Trying to fool the little old ladies at Boggess Hardware as to exactly which drawer a 2 inch Phillip's screw was in. Getting mad when they went right to it.

FREE Pepsi and peanuts at Woodys to watch the World Series.

A Harvey, Riley or Susie haircut.

Riding the bus to the City with your ma to shop at Macys.

Friends in the '61 Galaxy, over to Antioch to nab the just published weekly 40-Star survey, Dolan in the background.

The ball glove restrung at Mace's.

Cinnamon, and cinnamon sticks from Breipohl, again, sp?

"We had a nice game on lanes 7 & 8 by _________" said Harrison McCoy (or Melvin, or Ted.)

"Rack 'em Wiggins."

Waiting in the Schoeller's parking lot on a Saturday night for your cart-pushing friend to get off so a night of fun could begin.

The Dueling Pistols.

Whitewashing The Square.

Proudly showing a friend your Junior Sheriff's Deputy badge.

Driving to Maryville, MO to watch the Chief's game because it was blacked out locally.

That brief respite: No baseball in KC?

Green bats, seeya Mr. Finley, take Charlie O withya, welcome Mr./Mrs. K (and thanks!)

Watching for, listening to the squeals of Chief's player's cars driving 65 miles per hour up Miller Street to WJC at 9:55pm, so they could make the 10pm curfew.

Snoozy's ever-present smile at Co-op.

Roller skates affixed to a rectangular piece of plywood so one could navigate the crack-filled sidewalks, long before "No skateboarding signs" popped up everywhere.

That Plaza Theater first kiss.

Coffee at Trails Inn, The Western, Miller's Café.

An Atkinson taxi ride to the ballgame when dad was outta town.

Whiffle ball, kick the can, jump the brook, catching lightening bugs, telling ghost stories, "First one to see the street lights on!"

That damn mosquito fogger truck.

Filled City Park bleachers on July 4th at dusk to see the fireworks display.

The amazement of the horses at the City Park horse barn, the stench of the dog pound.

A six pack of bottles cashed in at Safeway for "The Ice Cream man!" money.

Population 8,909.

Who are all these people?

Give me Liberty, and thanks (lots) for all of that, and yes, probable death here. Tis ok, I still might fist fight if you say there was a finer town to grow up in.

Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away.....

Love, Victurd