One Pharmacist's View

When I was in grade school over at a shrinking town called Centrahoma, about all the town’s churches disbanded. Thus, because of this the First Baptist Church of Centrahoma was formed.

I may be super old (whatever that number might be) and I may not be able to remember the name of an old friend, but I do remember some things Flossy Grogan (my literature teacher when I was a “Longhorn”) over at Stonewall Schools. I can remember the Shakespearian play “Much Ado About Nothing.

I fear my “career” as an amateur writer may be drawing to an end. The last few years, every time I had another surprising birthday, I figure I need to quit all this and maybe like old “Buda” just sit around.

I read in the paper that we have lost many of our citizens the past few weeks. I wouldn’t know where to stop or start to name all of them, but I did note that those activities in our pristine Allen cemetery have been up.

It was a long time ago. The Wayne Bullard family was going on a trip.

From the pages of the British Medical Journal comes the story of a 76-year-old woman complaining of stomach pain. She told her doctor that the long object in her abdomen was a ball-point-pen she had swallowed 25 years earlier.

I always thought it to be a strange name — “Pido.” His four-letter first name had begun its regular appearance in our church bulletins soon after Pearl Harbor had been attacked by the Japanese and sometime later we learned he was a prisoner of war.

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.