Halloween Strategy

I think as parents we had as much fun as our kids at Halloween. We never over thought it because it was just about the candy. My wife Pam always did a great job and put in a lot of time making the kids costumes. We still laugh when we look at the picture albums and see all the kids dressed up as pirates or maybe the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Ok maybe most of the other kids didn’t know who that was but it was still scary. We would put hay in the back of the old truck and one of us would drive real slowly and the other would ride in the back with the kids, so they could get in and out as we rode through the local neighborhoods. We’d let old Buck, our lab/bloodhound mix, come along just in case we needed to track the kids down. He loved kids and to ride in that old truck.
You didn’t have to worry much about the candy the kids received because you knew the people whose homes you went to. They were your relatives, the people you went to church with, the people you worked with, or maybe the parents of some of your kid’s friends. The main concern was the strategy. The kids would make a plan on which neighborhoods would give the most candy and listed them mentally, one by one; in a descending order from who gave the most to who gave the least and this was the way in which we would go. There were probably many battles fought with less thought than this. It rarely worked out the way they had planned but it was always intriguing to see how their little minds worked and just how much thought was placed on this yearly event. We would always go by and see relatives before it was too late because that was guarantee bag filler. The kids would beg us to skip the houses that gave toothbrushes or pencils.
After a couple of hours everyone would be tired and we’d come home and have some hot chocolate and we would help divide out the candy so everyone was happy with their share and Pam and I would even get a candy bar or two.
Times may have changed, like everything else, but kids still get to enjoy things like trunk-or- treat and Fall Festivals at their local schools and churches. It’s a good way for the children to enjoy a safe Halloween and make sure you take lots of pictures to look at 10 years down the road. You’ll be glad you did!
Happy Halloween.
Just Saying!
oer

Southern Colors and a Bass Guitar

PICTURE BY PAM ROBERTS

We were up early Saturday morning to meet a guy in Hendersonville, North Carolina. He was driving from Tennessee to pick up a bass guitar I had for sale. We told him several days before that we would meet him in Hendersonville since we wanted to see the fall colors. The drive up Hwy 11 to 25 is always a good chance to see spectacular scenery in the fall, and since we drive a two-seat convertible sports car, we are on the road every chance we get. It’s usually a relaxing way to spend the day, unless you also have a bass guitar in a hard shell case taking the ride with you. That somehow puts a damper on things.
Our plan was to put the guitar in the back of the truck, head up to Hendersonville and enjoy the day. Unfortunately, our youngest son’s car wound up in the shop so we loaned him the truck for the week. Now, I’m not one to let life’s little obstacles change a plan and evidently I’m not one to listen to good advice as in: we-should-trade-cars-with-our-oldest-son-since-it’s-raining-and-we’ll-be-lugging-a-bass-guitar-along-with-us. Ok, now that we’ve driven and hour and a half with a 2 ½ foot wide base guitar wedged in from the back window to the front windshield I can see that taking the Miata was somewhat of a miscalculation on my part, but at least the gentleman was where he said he would be and we were able to comfortably continue on our trip to Hendersonville.
Hendersonville is a nice little town to explore and as and added surprise they were having a goat auction downtown. Not real goats but statues that were being auctioned off for charity. They called it “The Kidding Around Public Art Display”. The auction raised $10,850 with half the proceeds going to local charities in Hendersonville County.
Even though we did have some rain we were able to take some really nice pictures. It’s easy to understand why so many are moving to the upstate and surrounding counties.
Just Saying!
oer

Speaking Spanish

So Pam and I go to the local Mexican restaurant and we ordered in Spanish. The waiter smiled and said in English, "No really what do you want and just say it in English so I make sure I get it right"...Hmmmmm. We'll practice and try in again next week !

Just Saying !
oer
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You can email me at odeseroberts@gmail.com

The Old Yellow House on Main Street

One of the favorite pastimes of my wife Pam and I was to drive around on weekends and look at the houses in our area that are for sale. We had done this for years and actually that’s how we found the house we are living in now; just happened upon it one day. It was just too good of a deal to pass up so we decided to make and offer to buy it. The owner accepted our offer and with it being a newer house at the time there was only cosmetic things to do as some would say, we just had to put “lipstick on a pig” and it was a beautiful house for us.
One weekend before our 25th anniversary we were riding around and we spotted an old yellow house for sale on Main Street. I just saw it as a big old yellow house, but much to my surprise this was not just any old house, this was THE yellow house that as a child my wife had walked by everyday from school on the way to her grandmother’s house and had dreamed of living in all of her life. This came as kind of a shock to me because, as I had stated before, we had been married 25 years and this was the first time I remember ever hearing about this house and her childhood dream of sitting on the front porch watching the traffic go by.
I thought it would be a wonderful idea to make an appointment to just take a look at the house while we were on our way out of town, to celebrate our 25 great years together as husband and wife. We met the real estate agent at the appointed time and he began to show us this “dream house” with the warped wood floors, ceilings stained from water leaks, no closets to speak of, and bathrooms that were clearly an afterthought and so small that I couldn’t even get in one of them and still close the door. The wiring was the oldest in existence, and the roofing was completely gone, and the plumbing was a joke. Truly, the termites and a prayer were all that was holding Pam’s mansion together. All I could think of was, “where would you even start?” The house would cost more to remodel than it would to just to build it from scratch. Then I heard the words most feared my any husband from his wife, “Honey I want it! I’ve never ask you for anything in 25 years of marriage and I just love it.” I was speechless. I did manage to somehow thank the real estate person for taking the time to show us the property and assured my wife that this needed a lot more discussion and we could run the numbers to see where we stood after we returned from our anniversary weekend.
Whoever said timing is everything just didn’t say it loud enough because I didn’t hear them! Our weekend of celebration turned into a full-fledged assault on how and why we should buy the house. On our early return, we immediately started getting estimates and making plans on how she, I mean we were going to make this happen. This is one time no matter how I explained it 2 + 2 wasn’t going to add up to 4. This was the one time it would take a divined intervention to save me.
The next week we contacted the real estate company and made a solid offer on the house. To my dismay the representative seemed sure this was a done deal but would let us know within a few days. I felt as if I had just jumped out of a plane and had forgotten my parachute, but in her mind, Pam had totally redecorated the entire home, both floors, top to bottom.
I found myself counting the hours which turned into days and finally the dreaded phone call came. To my surprise the voice at the other end said, “I’m sorry to inform you but the County has offered $15,000 more than your offer.” They wanted the site for the new court house.
Now I’m certainly not a person to stand in the way of progress and if it was meant to be and all of that you understand. We lost the bid on my brides dream house and as fate would have it, the county didn’t tear it down. It didn’t die like a bad memory that in time would be forgotten. Instead they moved it down around the corner, put it up on blocks in a vacant lot and it has remained empty so all could see in its ruined state of existence. Even now 5 years later, I am reminded regularly of my failure to mankind.
So what do we all learn from this? Sometimes the cost of the purchase has nothing to do with what you’re getting, but has everything to do with what you not getting.
Maybe that’s what is meant by “PRICELESS”.
Just Saying !
oer
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You can email me at odeseroberts@gmail.com

The Oak Tree

It all started with the sound of limbs crashing onto my roof from an old oak tree that actually should have been cut down two years ago. So I told my wife, we'd better get some estimates on getting that big boy taken out. The estimates were shocking to me. The first one was $1200 and the second and third was even higher and that was just to take it down and cut it up and I would still have to get rid of the brush and wood. I thought I was going to go into cardiac arrest. What were these people thinking? So the very next day I go out and buy a beauty of a chainsaw $500,a smaller chainsaw for cutting the smaller limbs $175, and a 150 foot rope to just make sure it fell the way I wanted it to $75, a come along winch $75, a maul and splitting wedge and several other tools $100, and two guys to help $250 dollars. HMMM let see that's about $1350

Yeah their estimates were about right!

ANYBODY NEED ANY WOOD?

Just Saying !

oer

Huffington Post

Look and see where the donations are coming from!

http://fundrace.huffingtonpost.com/

Local Politicians or Whipping Boys

I’ve come to the conclusion that local politicians are not just running to serve the public in an official capacity but also in an unofficial capacity as a whipping boy or girl as the case may be. The papers are full of “reviews” or “suggestions” left anonymously by people who would never volunteer for anything, but have plenty of time to scrutinize and make terrible remarks just to hear themselves talk. Why anyone would want to subject themselves and their families to this scrutiny and downright nasty comments is beyond me?
Some public offices are held by unscrupulous individuals and they get what they deserve, but the politicians I’m talking about are the ones who actually believe in the American dream. Their reality is that anyone from anywhere can come here legally and fulfill a dream that may not be afforded anywhere else in the world. These people have a vision that they can make a difference in their communities by giving their time, opinions and service for free or relatively free, they want to make it a better place to live, work and play. The majority of these elected individuals work their own jobs and then put in many hours a week serving the public in some cases for less than a $25 a week, only to find out that their hard work and efforts have been unappreciated and ridiculed, and that even their families have been dragged through the mud for no good cause. I’ve heard about people losing their jobs after many years of being a loyal employee when they took up a cause and decided to run for an elected position and won.
I hope there will never be a day when people get enough and say, “I give up!” Let the people that only have something to gain have it.
We seem to stay on the sidelines until something affects us personally. Election Day is a wonderful time to express our views .We as Americans enjoy the freedom of speech, but with that freedom comes certain responsibilities. One of those responsibilities is to vote. We lose a lot of really good people by not publicly giving them our support. I also understand that no one person can make everyone happy. No matter which way they vote there will always be someone that feels the decision wasn’t in their own best interest. The question that always has to be answered is: what’s best for the majority over time? Never should a decision be made for the personal gain of the elected officials or a select few. Jeremy Thorpe said, “greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his friends for his political life.”
Presently the national elections are being influenced by our economy and there’s enough blame to go around. I can’t clearly see any one party that is more to blame than the other and a lot has to be said about our own wasteful spending in the past years. You can’t keep spending what you don’t have.
I hope each of you will take the time to vote.
Just Saying !
oer

Living Southern

I’ve always lived in the South and until I was much older I had never been out of the southern part of the United States. It was much later in life that I realized just how unique we really are. It’s not just the homemade biscuits and cornbread or our southern dialect, but our whole way of life and the respect we show to others. My mom always said “act like you were raise” and I guess she meant make us proud by being a person of good character even when people we know aren’t there. Southern men still open doors for the women, not because they can’t open doors for themselves but merely as a form of politeness that carries on even today. Some people from other parts of the U.S. take that as an insult but I think for the most part women here take it as a show of respect. We still say Ma’am and Sir to our elders, we acknowledge each other in stores or on the street, and when driving down the road notice how many people wave to you like they know who you are. I don’t think they actually do but it is a custom handed down from when they did.
Our town has a population of a little over 400. There are much bigger towns around us but we enjoy our one traffic signal, one policeman and our trash picked up weekly in the back of a large garbage truck and by the look of things, other people are quickly finding out that they like it too.
A well known southern tradition is grits, (Google it), not grit as in one but grits as in a big bowlful. Not the instant that is sold in packages, but the kind that cooks on top of the stove as it absorbs the water and butter and has to be stirred almost constantly lest it lump. This is a staple food of the true southern. It’s the litmus test to find out if the person is truly southern. If they don’t know or have never had grits you can just stop right there. You definitely know they ain’t from the South. Ok, I see this is getting to be more in depth than I had first anticipated. The word ain’t is southern slang for aren’t and it’s used so much it was added to the dictionary or at least in the “I Want To Be Southern” edition.

In the larger cities, they’re building gated communities that have that small town feel, where everyone knows everyone else and they have sidewalks and places for the kids to play, town squares and businesses for the residents to shop and essentially trying to get back to what they had or heard about people having years ago. We, in the small town south, probably take our way of living for granted. We didn’t realize how great it was having a neighbor to know when you come and go and actually be able to leave your cars unlocked and let your kids play until dark knowing that they’re safe. Believe me, if your kids do something they shouldn’t you’re going to get a phone call saying, “I saw little Johnny doing _____,“ and that’s ok because your neighbors have always expected you to do the same thing for them. The word gang was a group of kids that just wanted to get together to play a game of baseball or maybe were going down to the swimming hole for a fun day swinging off the rope swing and then eating sandwiches Mom had made for lunch. Well, unfortunately those days may be gone even here in paradise or as we like to call it the South.
Just Saying !
oer

Oktoberfest 2008

Picture taken by Pam Roberts

It’s that time of year again, the leaves are turning their bright orange and reds and will fall ever so gently to the ground. But before that happens, on this very weekend in October, the small town of Walhalla, SC will have thousands of people attending their annual Oktoberfest. It’s a three day event celebrating the town’s German heritage. This weekend Walhalla will swell with the aroma of German foods, the laughter of children on the kiddie rides, and people selling eye catching arts and crafts. The “Little German Band” plays under the beer tent and many people will be introduced to the “Chicken Dance” for the first time. It’s a lot of fun for everyone, and in many cases the proceeds are donated to local charities.
It’s always fun to see people trying to learn the chicken dance. I have to admit I’ve never actually given it a try, but I do intend to at some point. Being a good Southern Baptist and having lived in this small town for 30 years, I have always been a by-stander; I’ve watched but never participated in any of the beer tent festivities. It reminds me of a joke I heard, “what’s the difference between a Catholic and a Baptist?” The answer is, “A Catholic will speak to you in the liquor store.” Meaning, of course, as a Baptist you may partake in a drink or two but you’re not suppose to broadcast that you do, and you’re surely not supposed to drink out in public. Every good Baptist knows you do your drinking out of town. (I’m just kidding don’t write me letters.) As it is, most of the revelers under the beer tent enjoying themselves, are out-of-towners.
It’s the one time of year this community is host to families stopping to spend their money, then driving through town to get to the beautiful mountains so they can admire the leaves and waterfalls and maybe play a round or two of golf. Saturday night will end with a fireworks display that can be seen and heard for miles. Young and old alike crane their necks to see colorful blossoms explode in the air as they ooh and ahh long enough to forget about the economy or any of their other troubles and just focus on being the best chicken dancer they can be. Who knows maybe I will learn the chicken dance this year.

Just Saying !
oer

The Rules Of The Game

When people ask me if I gamble, I instinctively say no, even though life itself is a gamble. The first thing that always comes to mind is when my in-laws invited my wife, our son and me to go to Florida. I should have known the trip was going to be a disaster when I was backing up their new RV/van and backed in to a 100 foot motel sign where we were staying. This was not a good way to start out on a vacation with her parents who already listed 25-30 things they didn't like about me.I had never been to the dog races and when her father mentioned that he would like to go I was hesitant but a willing participant. I can still remember the filling of electricity in the air as people were placing bets on their favorite dogs to win or place or whatever and after watching a few races we decided to place a bet. As luck would have it for a newbie we won $80 on like a $10 bet. I had never been so excited in all of my days here on planet earth. I turned to my wife and I can still remember the words that came out of my mouth, "Babe, we're going to have to buy a wheel barrow to take this money home!" I clearly didn't understand the rules of this game of chance, but I knew I liked it!I figured since we were playing with the track's money we might as well bet big and get this show on the road. Unfortunately, things didn't turn out quite like we had planed and within 30 minutes I was betting our money, within an hour I was betting money we had put back for our rent that month. Oh yeah, I was learning a very valuable life lesson. Our mood had gone from being "on top of the world" to "what in the heck just happen"? To make a long story short, my wife made one last bet and as I remember the odds were really high. I think it's called a trifecta when you pick the 1st 2nd and 3rd dog to win. She placed everything we had left on a dog named Fast Eddie. I can still see Fast Eddie making the turn in second place and as he passed us he overtook the lead and won all or almost all of our money back. It was one of the most exciting moments of our young lives and a really good lesson on gambling, you have absolutely no control over the outcome. We were so thankful to have our money back and to be able to pay our rent on time. We finished the night out by puting a dollar bet to place on the remaining races and won most of them. We later learned that some were down a thousand dollars and here we were upset over a couple of hundred. I guess it was all relative. When you lose all you have, well that's all you have no matter what the amount totals! Never bet what you're not willing to lose! That was our first and last time at the track.
oer

Life Can Be A DiTcH

There's nothing that will bring a family together any quicker than a family project.Two weeks ago the much needed rain finally arrived and after many days of down pour the ground was finally saturated with water that had to find a place to go. The place it found was our basement. We spent the night pumping out water and shampooing our carpet. We had a definite problem. So what do you do when you have a problem, of course you call on family. Neither son was thrilled to get this phone call but both showed up bright and early ready to help (cash didn't hurt as a little incentive). We dug for 26 hours over a span of 4 days. We not only got a really good work out we actually learned several things.The first area we dug was a 5 ½ feet deep, 12 foot long ditch. We found a drain that had previously been put in when this house was first built. The builder had put the French drain (Google it)in around the foundation but with nowhere for it to drain, and it also was tilted back toward the house so of course this is why we were getting so much water. It finally filled the pipe up with mud. This was a lesson in itself. If you try to take shortcuts and don't do the job right, it will show up sooner or later, and someone will have to do it again.Have you ever thought things were just going too smoothly? Well that's when most things happen in life isn't it? Things were going well until the ditch caved in. We had been trying to chip away at a large rock that was covering the existing pipe, and finally had cracked enough of the rock away, that we were able to cut the clogged pipe out. A French drain requires gravel before laying the new pipe down. What we didn't know was the old pipe was supporting the rock we were trying to remove and the rock was supporting the entire bank of dirt. The huge rock fell into the ditch and the entire bank of dirt fell on top of the rock. We were back to square one. I look into my sons eyes and saw the look of defeat. I took a deep breath and told him, "This ditch is your life. Life has its ups and downs. The trick is to never stop digging until you succeed". I handed him a shovel and I grabbed one myself and we started to dig together until we reached the rock. It was a really big rock. It was too heavy for us to lift, so we found a chain and come along and winched it out of the ditch. It was a wonderful feeling to overcome such an obstacle in life, I mean in our ditch. We were full of energy again and felt we could actually succeed. We were laughing and actually enjoying working side by side and feeling great about what we had accomplished so far and of course we hit another obstacle, more rock. This was more than just a rock; this was a 10 foot long boulder that was in our way. We had to have enough of a drop in our 50 feet of drain pipe to carry the water away from the French drain. This is why the builder had stopped. He hit a wall of rock and just gave up. We worked for 3 hours trying to drill and chip away enough stone to lay the drain pipe. It was impossible to cut through this with the tools we had on hand. We had decided to stop and regroup. Just by chance we started digging further over and to our surprise the rock actually ended just 6 inches over from where we had stopped digging. It reminds me of stories I've heard about the difference between people that succeed and the ones who fail, and how many times those people that did fail could have reached their dreams if only they had given it one more try.We had some really good conversation over these past 26 hours, and not only accomplished our mission, of replacing a failed drain, but also repaired some relationships that had unknowingly failed. The forecast is rain again today. I can’t wait to find out if all that work pays off!It Did!oerI decided to repost this little story after hearing from someone that is obviously hurting. We all have rainy days in our life, but it takes the rainy days as well as the sunny ones for us to grow.When you can truly be happy for others, you’ll find out your on successes are so much sweeter, and if you do fall down, you’ll have one more friend to help pick you up!
All Smiles
oer

Life

Several years ago I did a genealogy research on the Roberts family. After being asked some questions from other Roberts’ from around the globe, I’ve reviewed my research. As I was reading about my Great Grandfathers, I started to notice, that barring any unforeseen circumstances, such as an accident or war, the age of death, seems to be 76. My father missed this number by several weeks and his brother’s were 75-76 at the time of their death.
This study provoked a deeply philosophical question: Would I want to know when my last day on this earth would be and how would it change the life I’m living? Perhaps I could forgive those that need forgiving and ask forgiveness of those I’ve wronged. I think my forgiveness would begin with myself, for not going down the path I, or others, think I should have taken. I am where I am, and the only way to go is forward, one step at a time. The most important thing I can do is to take that step and really start living life.
When we start realizing that every day that passes time grows more precious. It can actually be quite inspiring to realize there’s one day less than the day before. We can’t let the little things in life bog us down and to keep us from living up to our full potential, ever what that is. To love and let ourselves be loved is what makes life worth living.
On average I have 8748 days left. I will see 25 more Christmas mornings and 24 more birthdays, vote for 6 more Presidents, but I can smile every morning I wake up, because that means, I have another day, to get it right!
Would you want to know?
oer 2008

The Letter

In May of 2000 my dad died of a heart attack. Without question this was the lowest time in my life. He was not only my father but next to my wife he was my closest friend. The one person I always knew I could turn to when I felt all the chips were down.After his death I had started thinking about all of the things I wished I could have said.I decide to write him a letter.
Dear Dad.
I can’t even start to tell you how much I miss you. All the times you would call just as I sat down for dinner and I wouldn’t answer the phone, I’m sorry. I have picked up the phone many times to call you before I would realize you weren’t there to answer. It wasn’t for any specific reason, but just to tell you how my day went or that one of the boys had done something, that only you would think was special. They would both make you so proud.
Josh has your gift of gab. He can talk to a stranger as if he has known them all his life. He finished college and decided to run for mayor of our town and won.
Steven has your gift for music. He has won most talented musician every year since he was in the 8th grade and plays 5 instruments, including your piano. I made sure he got it, just like you told me to. He is very smart and makes really good grades. He wants to be a heart surgeon. I think maybe because of what happen to you.
I mainly want you to know that I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how special you are and how proud I am that you were my dad. I know that I won’t ever have that time again but maybe my son’s can see something of you in me.I hope I make you proud!
Your son
PS: I almost forgot. When I was a teenage and told you someone had hit your car in the parking lot and crushed the right back taillight. I actually didn’t put it all the way into park and it rolled down the driveway and hit a tree. I’m sorry I didn’t just tell you the truth.I think that’s all for now but may have to add more to this later.Do you need to write a letter, or are you lucky enough to just be able to pick up the phone?
oer