One Pharmacist's View

I recently read a story on the internet (what could be more reliable than that?) about a Jap who was a big memory from my childhood. Those of you who know me may remember that I am a native of the little Coal County Town called Centrahoma.

When I lived over in Centrahoma, a long time ago, farming was a lot different than what emerged from the 40s and 50s. In my time over there I was a grade school aged kid, and I usually confined “peanut farming” to what I could pick up, shake and fill my pockets for munching.

Yep, it’s that time again, when we all take a look at our past years and cast our eyes forward to the future — which we suppose might be an improvement over the past. It’s Sunday afternoon as I sit down to write this which I will simply think of as my “New Years Column.

There’s nothing like being sick on Christmas day. It sort of reminds me of one time in Stonewall — I had caught the flu (again) and I was sick and tired of it and because of it I had lost a lot of my Christmas season.

At my old age of many Christmas memories, I heard a song on the radio the other day driving back from Oklahoma City. My carload of family was driving back to Allen after attending the funeral of my much-loved brotherin- law, Fred Ellis, in Moore.

I don’t know when I first noticed that a lot of new words were being introduced into my vocabulary. Being an old guy who had practiced pharmacy for many years I first noticed that words that I was not familiar with were being bandied around on my computer.

So why do we still make something of a fuss about “Pearl Harbor Day, December 7, 1941?” It marks an important historical date for America. December 7th marks the first time any nation had dared attack us on our soil.

The gloomy wet views out of my breakfast room windows promised to go away before Pat and I get in our car and drive up for a sumptuous Thanksgiving meal up in North Tulsa hosted by our granddaughter Lindsey.

Those of us who love our Friday night football have really felt loved this ongoing season. Our kids are well, our kids.

Yes, it was the first Halloween I spent in Stonewall and I wasn’t too sure just what it was. You see, I had been living in Centrahoma — a metro area totally void of any city streetlights.