Through An 'Old Timer's' Eyes
By Howard 'Mac' McDonald

Veterans Day came and went last Saturday, commemorating the Nov. 11, 1918, armistice that was supposed to conclude the war to end all wars. Of course, we all know that this did not happen.

Nov. 11 also marked the 56th anniversary of the day my wife and I signed our armistice. Our anniversary recalled memories of the old song that went something like this: "Oh, give me a gun and away I'll run to fight the foreign foe. Let me join the Army. For ever since I've had a wife, I've been in battles all me life, so let me join the Army."

On a more serious note, Veterans Day is not a joyous holiday, but we should not dwell upon its sorrow. I have been to Arlington National Cemetery and witnessed the Changing of the Guard from the Tomb of the Unknowns. It's a solemn ceremony that still sends goosebumps. The eternal flame that burns at the grave of John F. Kennedy does little to warm your heart. The five names I traced from the engraving on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial bring moisture to my eyes. I remember the personal relationships I had with these fallen heroes.

Now that Election Day has come and gone, maybe the news media will stop their feeding frenzy on the politicians and report the real news that is happening. Who knows what the new balance of power will bring about? At least there are now checks and balances. You can see what a mess we create when the House and Senate are of the same political party as the President.

The other day I took a ride up South Mountain to the overlook. The view of Emporium was amazing. It was 3:00 p.m. and the

courthouse clock chimed. Wood smoke spiraled from several chimneys. How peaceful this scene looked. It made me think how great it would be if all places in our world were as serene.

Beyond town, ridge after ridge stretched out to the horizon, reminding me where the phrase, "Land of Endless Mountains," comes from. I imagine the town will look like a kaleidoscope from the mountain top once everyone's Christmas lights are on.

If your drive from Cowley Hill east to the end of the Ridge Road, you can see several spectacular vistas. Oh, to be an eagle and soar down into these majestic valleys. At George B. Stevenson Dam you can often see these regal birds of prey as the leave their lofty perch - the symbol of American freedom.

In the northeast corner of the Cabin Kitchen's main dining room is a booth that is almost always occupied by the same clientele. These are elderly gentlemen and I figure their main purpose for being there is to see who can tell the most interesting story. Some other customers refer to them as the Liars Club.

I usually try to temper my own participation with at least one true story. Maybe my tales will influence them to mend their ways.

They don't have a roll call, but if one of the regulars is missing you can sure bet who the conversation is going to be about. One fellow comes all the way over from Crosby to participate in the verbal gymnastics. Linkie, Paul, George, Tom, Harry, Mickey, Al and his brother Joe come from different walks of life, but share a kinship that could only happen in America.

They say there's a first time for everything. Well, at 11:30 a.m. on Nov. 10, this saying came home to me. My wife

has been babysitting

a couple of little boys. She had to go to a hair appointment so I agreed to help out. She was hardly out of the driveway when the littlest guy started to cry.

When I opened the bedroom door, a very distinctive odor about knocked me down. Now, we had three sons, but I was never in this position before. The big brother helped me find the diaper bag and my First Aid training kicked in. So, I changed my first diaper.

I expected a big pat on the back but, when my wife returned and learned of my achievement, she declared, "It's about time!"

Thanksgiving is nearing and even the thought of it makes a guy hungry. We have the Pilgrims to thank for that long tradition. I like to watch the big parade from New York City. It gets me in the Christmas spirit.

The Readers Digest column, "Humor in Uniform," has some great anecdotes. I have sent a few in, but they haven't been printed. In 1952 when I was stationed in Boston, I was watching two intoxicated sailors trying to pick up a fire plug. Funny to me, but not to Readers Digest.

Time waits for no one. A true example of this is the way a puppy becomes a dog in just a few months. Our Sarge is only six months old and full-grown already. He still plays with his toys, but gone are the needlelike teeth and now he is the proud owner of some pretty big fangs.