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Heart! ~ If you are not a subscriber and this has been passed on to you, join us by sending a blank e-mail to four_ears @ msn.com (remove spaces) with "subscribe" in the subject line. And get the love direct! Tour our web site: http://www.geocities.com/jenniferioliver2001 Tour our archives: http://geocities.com/jenniferioliver2001/Archives.htm ________________________________________________________ "Waiters and waitresses are becoming nicer and more caring. I used to pay my check, and they'd say, "Thank you." That graduated into "Have a nice day." That's now escalated into "You take care of yourself now." The other day I paid my check - the waiter said, "Don't put off that mammogram." -- Rita Rudner ________________________________________________________ FROM HERE TO ETERNITY Mark Davis "SURPRISE!" I just about keeled over when they all popped up from behind couches, end tables, and bushy ferns. A string of Japanese lanterns graced the doorway to the dining room where a huge spread awaited me on a black tablecloth. Here it was. The big four-oh. My best friend, Manny, knew how depressed I was about my impending birthday that dogged after me like Murphy's Law and figured a gathering like this would trigger happy thoughts, if not a heart attack. I was still depressed. I mean, how can you not be when everyone was dressed in black and a stuffed toy buzzard leered at me from the middle of the spread next to a vase of dead roses? Scrawled on the half-sheet cake was "Our Condolences, Old Fart!" Below that was a picture of a headstone with the somber reminder, "Youth - R.I.P." Groan. It's true what they say. Life is like a roll of toilet paper. The closer you get to the end, the faster it goes. But I pasted a smile on my face and dived into the eclectic offerings of meatballs in burgundy sauce, chile con queso with tortilla chips, barbecued chicken wings, crackers served with a block of cream cheese smothered in raspberry jelly, and tiny little pita pockets stuffed with some turkey-mayo mix. Someone handed me a cold beer, and I was set for the evening, chatting and pigging out and laughing at old, tired jokes about walking canes, adult diapers, and Viagra. Well, what do you know. Those were exactly what I unwrapped when it came down to opening gifts. Two special gifts stood out that evening though. One was a home videotape from my kids, who were at my ex's for the weekend, singing happy birthday, dancing, and doing goofy antics. The other one I unwrapped came from my best friend, Manny. It was a videotape of my all-time favorite war movie called "From Here to Eternity." I had only seen it once when I was a kid and thought it was bigger than life. If you think grown men don't cry, well, you're right. Especially in front of their friends on their 40th birthday. So I kind of swiped at my eyes, and someone said, "Let's watch the video!" Manny has one of those huge home entertainment centers that dwarf a room so I thought, what the heck. I wouldn't mind escaping the big four-oh for a little while with my all-time favorite war movie. The gritty storyline set in the time just before the Pearl Harbor attack was the perfect antidote to the birthday blues. I mean, my birthday was puny compared to a film mired in prostitution, adultery, military injustice, corruption, violence, alcohol abuse, and murder. Yep. My kind of movie. Ah. There he was. Burt Lancaster was a man's man, a virile Sergeant Warden who would eventually seduce Karen, the bored housewife, on the sandy beaches of Oahu with waves crashing about them. Deborah Kerr was pretty damn sexy in this movie. Then it began. Tittering from the audience. "Oh, brother. Who would say something like that?" "Ha ha! Look at those boxing shorts!" "Oh, Sergeant Warden," said someone in a falsetto voice, making smooching noises. "I think there's sand in my cleavage!" It started small, these titterings. Soon raucous laughter and jokes were flung at the movie. About the sappy dialogue, body language, the twists and turns of the plot. Nothing escaped their teasing. I began to feel deflated about my favorite movie. Seeing it through their belittling made me wonder what I ever saw in the movie in the first place. After the party that night, I took the movie, shoved it in the back of my video cabinet, and promptly forgot about it. Last weekend after the kids were asleep, I was in a mood for a good war movie. I dug out "From Here to Eternity," slipped it into my VCR, and settled back with some microwaved popcorn and ginger ale. As the beginning credits rolled by, the old feelings of giddiness swept over me unexpectedly. I couldn't wait to see my all-time favorite war movie. I sighed. It wasn't so lame after all. I probably looked sappy with my eyes misting over as I sat in my underwear in a darkened living room with the 20-inch television flickering across from me. But I didn't care. Mid-way through the movie, my youngest got up to get a glass of water. "Can I watch the movie with you, Dad?" Matt asked with a sleepy smile. "Sure, son," I said. I scooted over on the recliner and patted the space reserved for him. I immersed myself into the movie again, warmed by the pajama presence of my son. Then about twenty minutes later-- "Dad? This is boring. I'm going to bed." Wow. Even a six-year-old couldn't appreciate my all-time favorite war movie. Okay, so we had different tastes. His were of the Spiderman persuasion, mine were of the Army-sergeant-meets-bored-housewife kind. But I do know one thing. When he asks to see the Spiderman movie on his 40th birthday, I'm not going to say a single word to decimate his favorite movie. Sometimes that can be the best birthday gift of all. Mark Davis ruidosodavis @ hotmail.com Copyright © 2002 by Mark Davis. All rights reserved. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ About the author: I am a single father of three awesome kids who challenge the depths of my love daily. _________________________________________________________ QUOTE FROM LESSER KNOWN FOLKS On his 7th birthday, just before going to bed, I found Ethan in the bathroom, talking to his toothbrush. He said, "Okay, now. Make room for the birthday boy!" _________________________________________________________ FROM OUR FRIENDLY E-MAIL CARRIER In regards to "Lessons from Logan" by Maria Harden (http://geocities.com/jenniferioliver2001/100102.htm) Maria, I love your stories about Logan. This story was especially fun to read. Keep them coming. Hugs, Pat ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ In regards to "The Chicken's Execution" by Betty King (http://geocities.com/jenniferioliver2001/100802.htm) What a chuckle :-) My gramma's had a piece of #4 wire with a handle on one end and bent back in a "V" on the other. Daylight Sundays saw them out throwing grain in the yard. In short order a couple of fryers in her hands and an instant later they were rolling, flopping and jumping around with the rest watching. Into the scalding water, feathers off, dressed, cleaned and giblets ready they were placed in cold salt water with a dash of home made vinegar (from home made wine). After church the hot fried chicken (in bacon grease), onion cream gravy (real home made butter), steamed new potatoes with green beans (bacon grease), candied baby carrots (HM butter) and home made pecan pie (wild honey & HM butter) would set you up for a nice nap. All of these things were from the garden, fresh or canned, depending on the time of year. I can feel my arteries hardening thinking about it. :-) Thanks, Mark Crider _________________________________________________________ ON THE HOMEFRONT For Ethan's 7th birthday, we celebrated it with a party at the local skating rink. One little girl named Kayla called Ethan and said, "Hi, Ethan! I'm coming to your party! What do you want for your birthday?" Ethan blushed and said, "Oh, nothing." Stephen and I elbowed each other as we watched our Ethan handle his very first phone call. From a girl yet! One father came to the party extremely late with his daughter. He apologized profusely and said, "We were at another party over there [pointing at another table], and when they began opening presents for a boy named 'Brian' that's when I knew we were at the wrong table!" At the end of a long day filled with skating, pizza, toys, candy, lots of falls and lots of laughs, I held a dazed Ethan in my arms in the rocking chair before bedtime. "Did you have a good day today, Ethan?" "It was the best day ever!" I smiled, remembering the day Ethan entered this world 10 months after Cody. Born a month early, he spent ten days in the NICU due to immature lungs. As his older brother had spent three and a half months in the NICU, the staff had a screen-saver on the monitor next to his bed-warmer. The words "Ethan Joseph Oliver - Yes, I'm Cody's little brother!" scrolled across the monitor. Happy birthday, sweetheart. _________________________________________________________ LOVE, JENNIFER I. OLIVER AND FAMILY four_ears @ msn.com "To live that in thy last long sleep, Smiles my be thine wile all around thee weep." - Nellie L. Wallace, June 24, 1873 _________________________________________________________ This E-mail may be forwarded in its entirety, but first ask the writer for permission before forwarding. Thank you for doing the decent thing! Ü ________________________________________________________ SUBMIT STORY, QUOTE, OR FAMILY LOVE MOMENT: http://www.geocities.com/jenniferioliver2001/submission.htm FEEDBACK: four_ears @ msn.com ________________________________________________________ |
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