Nose

 As anyone will tell you, the day after Thanksgiving is the one day that almost all retail workers dread.  They have to put up with long lines and screaming customers.  In 2006, I was working in the Home Store at Macy's.  I got there at 6am and was put on the register in Housewares.  When ringing customers on that day, you have to get into a rhythm.  You say "Thank You" a thousand times.  It was no different that day.  Ring the merchandise; bend over to get a bag; put the stuff in the bag; and thank the customer.
 I was supposed to have someone stand next to me and do the bag part, but not this morning.  After two hours of this, my supervisor came up to me and whispered in my ear to take a break.  I was very happy to do so.  We had brought food and put it in the stockroom, so I was ready for some breakfast.  I headed to the stockroom and opened the door.  The food looked great, but I felt that my nose was running.  I dabbed at it and found I was getting a nosebleed.
 I had them from time to time.  Once in a play in college after being hit during a fight scene.  The audience asked after it how I got fake blood up my nose.  It was real.  I have been "blessed" with thin membranes that I inherited from my Mother.  But, this bleed was nothing like that.  I couldn't stop it.  I pinched my nose, but that didn't help.  I put my finger under my nose and pressed.  It didn't work.  I put ice on it, but that just made my nose cold.  It still bled.  I used the phone in the stockroom and called out to the floor.  I needed to see my supervisor.
 She got the message and came back there to find blood on the floor and all over my clothes.  I was bleeding profusely.  She got a towel for me to catch the blood, but it still wasn't stopping.  This had been going on now for at least an hour.  She saw that we needed more help, so she called our first aid person who was also in charge of security.  I felt bad about her coming, because this was the biggest sales day of the year, which meant also the biggest theft day of the year, but she came with her first aid kit.  She stuck gauze up my nose, and the bleeding started to subside.  It had now been almost two hours since I had gone on break.
 It was decided that I needed to go home, but how could I get to my car without passing by numerous customers.  Macy's didn't have a back stairway like some stores had.  I had to get upstairs and out to the parking lot with the minimum people seeing me.  No need for them to get grossed out too.  They told me to do my best and walk fast.  I did walk by a man on the way who dropped his mouth open when he saw me.  He probably thought I had been in a fight with a customer.  I got to my car and drove home.
 I was off that Saturday and went to the doctor.  The bleeding had stopped, but it started up again in the waiting room.  At least the doctor could see what was going on.  They got it stopped and determined that dry air was the culprit.  I had bent down many times the day before to get bags, and the store's air was dry.  That started it all.  I was told to keep my nose moist and drink fluids.  One nurse suggested I get Vaseline and put a little up my nose.  That really did the job.  I have mentioned the Vaseline tip to other medical folks, and they have said they have not heard of that before, but it makes sense.
 When I went back to work the following Monday, I was treated with kid gloves.  That suited me okay.  No need to be overworked.

Scream

 I was in Atlanta one Saturday around 1996 to go record shopping.  I would usually do this a few times a year, because one of my joys was to find that special album.  And, one of my favorite stores to go to was a store at Lenox Mall.  They had almost everything one could want.
 On that particular Saturday, I went into the store and found some filming going on at the back of the store.  A film crew was in there shooting a scene for a movie.  I asked the store manager what was going on and should I leave?  He said the store was open for customers, but I needed to be quiet looking through the stacks of wax.  The director had asked the manager to unplug his phone while they were shooting, but the manager refused because the business was open.  So, they tried to shoot the scene.
 Every time the phone would ring, the director had to yell "Cut".  This went on for some time.  Someone from the crew asked me if I wanted to be in their picture, because they were going to pan the camera around the store.  I said okay, but I wouldn't be paid for my "appearance".  So, I stood there looking through the same records each time, because it had to look the same each time.  I spent much longer in that store than I had intended to do, but I thought another appearance on film would be cool.
 They finally got the scene done.  The director and cast left.  I asked one of the crew what this movie was, and he just said "Scream".  It was directed by Wes Craven.  I don't know what cast was there.  I sort of forgot about it until recently, when I saw the movie and sequels were on TV.  I never saw them in the theater, so I have been watching them.  I think my scene was cut out of the film, but I have one more of the three to watch.  Screaming silently.

TTY

 At Macy's, we had hourly sales quotas.  Mine was $50/hr.  That would not be hard to do, if I sold a piece of luggage, but it was harder when we didn't have any customers.  So, I would hang out in Housewares to try and make that goal.  That was when the phone rang.
 I answered, and it was the TTY operator on the other end.  She is someone who is a person who helps someone who may be deaf or mute communicate with someone on the phone.  A person will type in their conversation to the operator, and then she will read it to the other person, like me.  I then would respond, and she would type it out for the other person to read and respond.  It is a long process, but very needed in this world.
 So, she told me who she was and that she had someone wanting to know if we had 25 rice cookers which were on sale for $50 each.  I checked and came back to the phone to say that we did.  She then gave me a credit card number and an address to ship the rice cookers to.  This sale would make my whole week for sales.  I wouldn't have to do anything for the rest of the week.  I could just chill.  The address she gave me was in Miami.  Wait a minute.  I got to thinking.  Macy's had a least two stores in Miami, and both were much bigger than ours.  In fact, Macy's had a grading system for stores based on size and sales.  Miami were "A" stores.  Columbia was a "C" store for most things like Housewares.  Why would someone from Miami call a small store and have to be a whole bunch of shipping, when they could go to one of the big Macy's stores in Miami and load up their pick up truck with rice cookers.  It just didn't make sense.  I had a number to call after I had figured up the shipping to give them a total.
 Instead, I got the number for one of the Macy's stores in Miami and got hold of their Housewares Dept.  When they answered, I just asked if they had a particular rice cooker that was advertised, and they said they did.  I then asked if they had more than 25 in stock.  The associate checked and came back and said they had at least 50.  If a store was sold out of an item, they could do an "item locator" on the register to see which stores had them and how many.  So, this person in Miami could not have gone to Macy's and had them to an item locator.  In fact,  there are many Macy's stores between Miami and Columbia that could have filled the request.  The light went off in my head, and I asked the associate to transfer me to their security department.  When I got that person, I told him who I was and what had happened.  I asked him if he had a street directory to tell me who lived at the address I got from the caller.  It turned out to be a UPS store that had a drop box.  The security man said not to send the product.  It must be a scam.
 After I hung up the phone, I went to our security office and told our person about what had happened.  One thing we figured out was that the card number I was given was stolen, because when I asked for the 3-digit number o the back of the card, they gave me the last three digits of the card number.  The register rejected the transaction.  I called the TTY operator, who in turn called the person back, and told them the card had been rejected.  That person said that was not a problem and proceeded to give me another card number.  That was rejected, too.  That person said no problem and said they would try later.
 Our security person was working with me on this strange call, and we decided it would be best if I would be the one to get the call if the TTY operator called again.  The next day, she did.  This time it was for sets of cookware.  I went through the same procedure with her, and she gave me an address in New York.  Un huh.  The flagship Macy's store is in New York.  Why call little old Columbia?  It was obvious that there was something wrong, so our security person contacted the FBI.  They told her that they had been trying to catch these people for some time.  They were using stolen credit card numbers to buy large quantities of items for the Home.  The store would then send the items to an address.  That person would receive the merchandise and then resell it on Craigslist, eBay, or elsewhere, and then take 10% out for themselves.  They would then send the rest of the money to some people in West Africa.  That money would fund terrorist operations.
 The FBI told us what to do.  When the TTY operator called, tell her not to type what I was telling her.  That it was for her ears only.  I told her who these people were, and that we needed to get as much information as possible.  Name, address, phone number, and when they could be reached.  She would tell them the transaction went through (even though it didn't) and how much it was.  We would have the card number which was turned over to the FBI along with these addresses.  We had addresses all over the country including California, Ohio, Florida, New York, Georgia, and many more.  The FBI used those addresses to arrest the people receiving stolen goods, and contacted the people whose credit numbers had been stolen.  I heard later that a computer store in Ohio had also been contacted.  The FBI put out a nationwide bulletin on these people and their MO using TTY operators.  This computer store got the bulletin.  They got a large computer box and filled it with cement blocks and porn magazines instead of a computer.  I thought that was creative.  I wished I had thought of that.
 The money stopped flowing to this terror group in Africa. Their operation was exposed.  I don't know if anyone did anything to him, but at least this scheme was stopped.  I wonder what would have happened if another associate instead of me had answered that call for the rice cookers.  I guess that I just have an inquisitive mind and a nose that smelled something fishy.

Barbie

 As you probably have seen from some of my posts, there have been some people that have taken me into their homes and welcomed me into their lives.  One was in my last post, and another is in this one.
 I worked with a woman named Peggy.  Her husband died just before my Mother did, and we shared a common bond.  Peggy was about 20 years older than me.  She had won a contest at Macy's and was flown to England to see the Wedgwood China factory and have tea with Sara Ferguson, when she was still married to Prince Andrew.
 One day, Peggy asked if I wanted to go to an apple farm in North Carolina.  I had never been to one, but it sounded like fun.  She told me to bring a jacket.  It was warm in Columbia, so I didn't think I needed a jacket.  When we got to the mountains, it was absolutely freezing.  She said I could wear her granddaughter's jacket, which was in the car.  I agreed, but found it had the Barbie doll logo on it.  I put it on anyway.  There were a lot of people there at the farm, and everybody pointed at me and laughed.  The jacket was warm, so I just had to accept the stares.  We had lunch up there at a good restaurant, and the workers there pointed and laughed.  I think I cheered up a lot of people that day, and there are probably folks even today laughing about the 52-year old man wearing a Barbie jacket.  That's okay.  At least, I learned to take a jacket when going to the mountains.  Don't be macho about it.  Comfort is more important.

Stones

 Back in 1996, I was working at Rich's.  My parents were living at Martha Franks Retirement Community in Laurens, SC.  I was no longer experiencing family holidays like I should, so one of my coworkers named Thom invited me to spend Christmas with them.  They lived in St. Matthews, SC.  It was about 30 miles from Columbia.  His wife was Mary Ann, and they had two children--Payton and Nathan.
 I accepted their offer.  St. Matthews is a small town in Calhoun County and is the best example of Mayberry that I have ever seen.  The people there were very warm and friendly.  I had not experienced a small town Christmas before, and I loved it.  They welcomed me into their home and into their lives.  From then on, I spent almost all holidays with them, and many days that weren't special occasions.  I became a part of their family.  Being part of a family was very important to me.  I had that at Kilbourne Park with the Wises, and in Ft. Worth with the Millers.  Now, it was the Stones.
 Thom and Mary Ann introduced me to their church, too.  It was First Baptist, and the pastor was Tommy Huggins.  He had been there for years, and I think still is.  I had been a member of large churches, so this atmosphere was foreign to me, but I ate it up.  For almost 13 years, I spent my free time with them.  When Thom opened a mattress store in Orangeburg, I was there on my days off.  He even let me put some of my autographed memorabilia to sell in his store.  When his store closed, we were back to playing at his house.
 Thom and I wanted to open a store together for music and memorabilia.  We found one in Cayce at the Parkland Plaza shopping center.  It was 1600sf and was perfect.  Our plan was to stock my product.  I also had several friends that wanted to put their stuff in the store on consignment.  We also planned to stock music books and sheet music for the schools in the area.  We gave a verbal commitment to the real estate agent, but another person came in with money, and the agent took his offer over ours.  It was very disappointing.  Sometimes, your word is not as important as the green stuff.
 They taught me how to play dominoes, which became somewhat cutthroat.  Nathan taught me how to put together buildings with Legos.  They also took me to visit Mary Ann's father in a nursing home in Columbia.  We went several times.  When my father died, they drove to Greenwood for his funeral.  When Thom's mother died, I went to her visitation and funeral.  Thom was a big fan of Pink Floyd, so I whispered in his ear "Comfortably Numb".  He knew what I meant, because I found it to be true to get through my parents' deaths.
 I was also accepted by Thom's brother Buddy who lived in Florida along with his wife.  Thom also introduced me to several other friends including one called Rod.  He is kind of famous, but I will leave it at that.  One of Thom's relatives was on "The Bachelor", and they were mobbed at a restaurant while the TV show was on.

 One Christmas, Thom got a gas-powered helicopter.  We worked to put it together.  It was a very cold day.  Once we were ready for the first test flight, he turned it on and it flew up into a tree.  We couldn't get it down.  End of the helicopter.  We ran back into the house to get warm.  I loved being there for those many years.  I'll write more later as to what happened to the end of that time in St. Matthews.

Mother

 I have been accused of being a Mama's Boy.  I did defend my mother against a fellow 6th grader, because my mother wore dresses, and his mother wore pants.  It seems dumb now, but it was a big deal in the 6th grade.  My mother introduced me to many things like Beatles music and James Bond movies.  My father travelled a lot, so she sort of raised me.
 When we put her and my father into Martha Franks Retirement Center in 1994, she already had a massive stroke in 1991.  My brother and I felt it was just a matter of time before she passed on.  We were all surprised that Daddy went first in 1999.  Around Thanksgiving 2003, we got a call from the nurses at Martha Franks.  Mother had stopped eating.  My brother and I talked about it and told the nurses to force feed her.  We were not prepared to lose her.  They forced her to eat, and she got better.  However, this was not the last call we got from the nurses.  The same call every couple of months.  The same answer from us each time.
 But then in July 2004, we were all getting tired.  It was obvious that Mother wanted to go to be with God in Heaven.  She couldn't speak very well, but her actions spoke volumes.  We got a call from the nurses, and we decided it was time to let her go.  So on July 8, 2004, our mother joined our father, her sister and brothers, and many of her friends in Heaven.
 My brother and I went to Greenwood to arrange for her burial next to Daddy in Magnolia Cemetery.  We chose the cheapest casket that Blyth Funeral Home had, because all of the money had gone to take care of Mother.  A few years before, Daddy's insurance money had dried up for Mother, so Martha Franks told us that any memorials at her death would be designated to Martha Franks to cover the cost of her bills.  After everything was paid, my brother and I split the rest of the money left over.  It was $16.  Mother had wanted to be buried next to her parents in the cemetery in Heflin, Alabama, but the cost was just too much to do that.  In 2013, my brother arranged to have a memorial stone placed in Heflin to honor our mother.  We went down there and had a service.  Mother would have liked that.
 Mother was lying in repose at the funeral home, and they told us we could have a short time with her.  My brother and his wife went in together, but I waited.  I wanted to be alone with her.  When I went into the room, there was music playing over the Muzak.  As I stood there at the casket, the song "Till There Was You" began to play.  That song was done by The Beatles in 1964.  The same time my mother told me about them.  That song was on the first Beatles album I ever had. That song was the one I was going to do at the auditions for the Ted Mack Amateur Hour, but I got sick and couldn't do it.  I began to sing to her lying in the casket.  To this day, I can't hear that song without tearing up.  There were security cameras in the room, but I managed to slip a Paul McCartney pinback button into her casket without anyone seeing.  Paul was her favorite Beatle.  It was payback to her for changing my life.  I guess it will be worth a whole bunch of money, if someone digs it up long into the future.  We had a small graveside service for Mother.  That was all she wanted.  One day, I will buried alongside my parents at Magnolia Cemetery.  There is one spot left in the family plot, and it is reserved for me.  Maybe, put a James Bond DVD from the Sean Connery days in my casket.  Thanks, Mother.

Reunion

 In 2001, my 30th high school reunion was coming up.  I really don't like reunions much.  I prefer to think of people as they were instead of how they are now.  That may come from my time with Kare in Ft. Worth.  If you don't know who she is, go back several stories and see the one on her.  Anyway, Kare was very adamant about living in the now, which is why she didn't like pictures taken of her, because she didn't want to preserve the "now".  But now, I had a co-worker who dared me to go to my reunion.  She was the mother of one of my classmates.  I accepted the dare.
 I asked another co-worker if she would go with me to the reunion.  We had been out a few times already, so it was natural for her to say yes.  The reunion was at the Spring Valley Country Club.  I guess there were about 100 of my classmates there.  Some had died before now, and others had moved away, so that number was pretty good out of a class size of around 550.  We actually had 601 in our senior class, but not all of them graduated.
 When we got there, we found that some of these people brought their wives and a few brought dates, but most of them came alone.  Maybe it was the cost of the tickets.  I don't know.  We had a DJ from one of the local radio stations, and I gave him a copy of The Cobbwebs cd that had just been released.  There were many cliques in high school.  Those cliques carried over into the reunion.  I tried to hang with the old gang from our Forensics group, but they weren't real interested in including me in their conversation.  I found a couple of friends sitting by themselves, so we went over and sat with them.  They seemed happy to seem me.  But, what was really strange was some reactions I got from a few others.  There were girls (I call them girls because they were that age when we were in high school) who were hugging me.  These were the same popular girls who didn't want to have anything to do with me, when we were in school.  I was very confused.  Why now?  Had they seen my work in the movies, TV or stage?  Had they read my published writings?  Were they familiar with my music?  Or, were they glad to see I was still alive after all the bullying I endured in school?  Whatever the reason, I was glad to be noticed.  Just 30 years too late.
 We stayed until after they took the group picture, and then we left.  I ran into an old friend who had become a respiratory doctor in Charleston.  After talking to him for a couple of minutes, he remarked that I sounded like I had breathing issues.  He was so right.  I have been haunted by them ever since.
 A few months later, I got an email from one of the guys who was there at the reunion.  He had been one of the main bullies who made my life a living hell from junior high into high school.  He said he had seen me at the reunion but didn't come over to speak to me, because he was too ashamed for what he had done to me all those years ago.  He just wanted to apologize for all the pain and suffering that he had caused me.  I accepted his apology, and now we have become friends.  It is never too late to make amends.  My 50th reunion is coming up in a couple of years.  I may have to be dared to go to that one too.

6th Time

 The one department that I had worked in retail the most was Luggage.  When Macy's took over Rich's, they did away with the Lamp Department.  I had turned that dept. into the number one Lamp Dept. in all of Rich's.  With Lamps gone, I was moved to be the sales associate in Luggage. 

 At the time, Luggage was located in a small corner of the store near the break room.  This is where it was when I worked there the first time at Rich's.  It was in an area near the manager's office, so he/she saw me every day.  You just couldn't hide out from the bigwigs.  As I started selling Luggage at Macy's, I achieved some success.  The sales reps already knew me from my previous work in Luggage, and they knew that I knew something about the product.  My supervisors weren't very pleased that I knew more than they did, but it worked out well with the higher ups.  I started making sales so much that the store awarded me with new fixtures for the department.  I started selling so much Luggage that eventually the store saw that I needed more floor space to expand the selection, so they moved the department to an area twice the size as where I had been.  It was actually in the same area as Lamps had been.  I was named "The Luggage King of Columbia."

 There were other Luggage stores in Columbia, and I would refer customers to them, as long as they would also refer customers to me.  That relationship worked out well.  I immersed myself in how bags were made and which ones would tear up faster than others.  Most companies would offer "lifetime warranties" on the bags.  It wasn't your lifetime.  It was the lifetime of the bag.  Hardside lifetimes were around 15-20 years.  Softside bags ranged from 2-7 years.  And one cool thing was that if a customer wanted to use the warranty, they would have to ship it back to the manufacturer themselves, and most people didn't want to do that.  Of course, Macy's policy was that they would take back anything.  I didn't adhere to that policy much.

 My sales techniques were very successful.  The first thing I would ask a customer was were they flying or driving.  If they said "flying", then I would move them to the more expensive bags.  If they said "driving", then they could pick any bag including those that were very cheaply made.  If a customer was flying but didn't want to pay top dollar for a bag, I would tell them the story that happened to me in Frankfurt, Germany.  

 I was getting my suitcase off of the carousel at the airport, but my clothes came out before my bag did.  I told them that I had to get a belt and tie it around my bag, because the locks had broken.  It was a true story, but it made the customers think that they didn't want my experience to happen to them.  They would then buy the more expensive bag.  There was something else that I had to tell the customers, and that was that I had some ethics.  I was always truthful with the customers, and I would tell them that if their bag broke coming off of the carousel, the first one they would be mad at would be the airline for breaking the bag.  The second one would be me for selling the bag to them.  I just would rather not have to deal with that guilt.  Consequently, I had very few returns.  My bosses would be mad at me, because I wouldn't sell the cheap luggage which was advertised.  

 I also got spiffs from manufacturers for the bags I would sell in a particular brand.  Sometimes, I would have customers come in, and I would try and get them to buy Samsonite, because I was getting a spiff for every bag I sold from them.  The next week, a customer might come back, and I would suggest Delsey instead.  They would ask why I was suggesting one over another, and I would have to make up a reason.  I couldn't tell them that I was getting a better spiff from one company over another.  The spiff was like a commission, and it helped out a lot with my take-home pay.

 I would go to meetings in Atlanta having to do with Luggage, and I got a lot of freebies from shirts to umbrellas to accessories to bags.  At one time, I had more bags than I knew what to do with.  I gave a lot of that stuff away to charities.

 I worked in Luggage for Macy's for about 5 years.  Right before I left, my sales were so good that the Macy's Columbia store was in the top 5 in Luggage Departments for the South Region of Macy's stores, and in the top ten of all Macy's stores in the company.  I was selling close to a million dollars a year in product.  After I left, Luggage sort of dried up.  But for me, the 6th time selling Luggage was the charm.

No Brakes

 I had gone to see my Mother at Martha Franks in Laurens one Sunday afternoon.  I tried to get up there every week to 10 days.  As I got in my car to head home, I noticed that I didn't have much brake pressure.  I continued on down the road and found all of the pressure had gone.  I had no brakes.
 Normally, I would drive home on the "old road", because I hate interstates.  And besides, I like the scenery.  But on this day, I realized that I needed to go on the interstate, because all of the town in between Laurens and Columbia had stop lights.  I could get into an accident.  So, off I went on I-26 with no brakes.
 The good news was that I could take a steady speed.  The bad news was that I didn't have enough gas to get home.  I decided to drive as if it was snowing.  I slowed into turns like I would with ice on the road.  It was the summertime when this happened.  Some drivers honked their horns at me, but I just yelled back that I didn't have any brakes.  I started looking for a gas station off of the interstate and found one at the Newberry exit.  I slowed to a crawl on the ramp and eased into the gas station.  I opened the door and dragged my foot for it to stop.  I felt like Fred Flintstone. Someone told me later that if I had shifted into neutral that the car would have been easier to stop.   I filled up and eased out and onto the interstate again.
 As I got closer to Columbia, I knew I had to get to a repair shop that was open on Sundays.  I decided on Pep Boys on Decker near Columbia Mall.  That meant that I had to get on I-20 before getting to Columbia.  The exit is a long curving one, so I slowed to another crawl to take the curve.  More cars honked at me, but I had no brakes.  Some drivers saluted me with one finger.  I waved back.  I was fortunate that this was a Sunday afternoon, and traffic was light.
 I got up to the Two Notch exit and slowed to the traffic light at the end of the ramp.  No cars were coming, so I turned right onto Two Notch.  I got up to the Decker Road turn that I had to take to the left.  The light was green, so I proceeded on to Pep Boys.  In order to get into their parking lot, I had to go down a hill.  I was just creeping along and got to a parking space.  I went in and told them what had happened that afternoon.  They were amazed I was still alive.  I had learned how to drive in ice and snow, when I lived in Fort Worth, so those memories helped me get back home.  They fixed the leak in the break line, and all was well.  It was a scary day, and I had to go to the bathroom big time, when I got home.

Macy's

 Macy's bought out Rich's during my tenure there.  The main change was the name and some of the merchandise.  Basically, it stayed the store.  We still went to Atlanta for vendor meetings, just like we did at Rich's.  Those trips were fun, when we got to rarely stay over.  Most of the time, we had to go there and back in one day.  Those were the zombie trips.  Leaving at like 4am to get there for the start of the meeting, and then getting back home around 10pm.  One nice thing we usually did was to stop at a place called Social Circle to eat at a Southern-style restaurant outside of Atlanta.  I went with my supervisor on one trip.  She was African-American.  We stopped at a housing development and had the real estate agent show us around.  We just thought it would be fun to have the agent think we were a couple.  We got some interesting looks.  Another trip was for Electronics.  I went to the meetings, and my then supervisor (different one) went out to clubs instead.  When he picked me up at the end of the meeting, I had to tell him what it was all about, so it would appear that he had gone too.  He also drove very fast going back to Columbia, and we made it in under three hours.  But, the real difference that I saw between Rich's and Macy's was that Rich's was run more like a family business, while Macy's was run more like a corporate business.
 One day, I was in Housewares just after the company change.  A woman came up to my register to buy something.  She asked me if I had seen any change since Rich's had become Macy's.  With a straight face, I told her there had been one major change.  All of the employees were required to watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade on TV and then report about it the next day to our store manager.  The woman's mouth dropped open in shock.  Her husband walked up, and she told him what I had said.  He looked at me in shock, and I told him it was true.  They went away in horror that a company would make us do that.  Oh the humanity!  I would like to apologize to that couple, whoever they were, for my joke on them.  We didn't really have to watch the parade, but it was encouraged.

9/11

 Our store was opening at 9am for a sale on September 11, 2001.  I had just gotten by register open and had straightened my department.  Ready for the day.  My friend Thom, who worked in Rugs next to my department, came in and said that he had heard on the radio that a plane had hit the World Trade Center in New York.  He and I talked about it for a minute, and both of us had decided it must have been a small plane.  Maybe the pilot had a heart attack.  He said it might be on TV.
 I walked across our floor to the break room and cut on the TV.  I saw the big hole in the side of the building and thought that could not have been a small plane, judging from the damage and the smoke.  As I was watching CNN, I saw the second plane crash into the second tower.  I saw it live.  I was shocked and horrified.  I knew immediately that we were under attack.
 I ran back to my department and told Thom what I had seen.  He went to get a radio.  I ran to the store manager's office and told her what had happened.  She cut on her radio and told me to get back to the TV.  Every time something new happened, I went back to report to our manager.  I saw the towers collapse.  I could not believe my eyes.  I saw President Bush get on Air Force One.  He wanted to get back to Washington, but I am glad he didn't.  No one knew how bad it was.  No one knew what was going to be attacked next.  There was a story on TV about people seeing smoke rising from an area near the Pentagon.  News came soon that a plane had hit the Pentagon.  People in DC were running for their lives.  I was running back to the office and then back to the break room.  Our manager told me that I was not to tell others, but someone on the radio said that the Columbia area had been locked down.  Was Fort Jackson next?  After all, it was the largest Army training facility in the world.  What about Shaw Air Force Base?  It was only 30 miles away.  We were scared.
 Then, we heard about another plane crashing in Pennsylvania that was heading for Washington.  How many more?  All flights were grounded, and those in the air had to land wherever they could.  Our store had opened for a sale, but we didn't have any customers.  No one dared to go outside.  We were in a mall.  Would that be attacked, too?
 Our store manager was on the phone with other stores in Columbia and around our region.  We decided that it would be in everyone's best interest to close early, because we had no business, and employees needed to be home with their families.  So, the decision was made to close at 4pm.  I was in the process of closing some registers, when a woman came up to me and said she wanted to buy something.  I told her we were closing, and she had to come back tomorrow.  She asked why we were closing, and I asked her had she not heard the news about the attacks?  She said, "What attacks?".  I told her to go home and cut on the TV.  We were closing.  I thought that was scary that she knew nothing about it.  She was glad she got a parking place close to the store.  Wonder why?
 So we closed, and everyone went home.  I was glued to the TV in my apartment in utter shock.  The next day, I was off and went to the post office to mail off something.  My eyes caught the eyes of my favorite postal clerk there.  We knew what each was thinking about the events of the day before, and we both started crying.  People were lining up to give blood.  There was a wave of patriotism sweeping over our country.
 As a post script to that time, I had a friend who lived in Queens.  He was making breakfast in his kitchen that awful day and watched the planes hit both towers across the bay from his house.  Little did he know that his brother, who worked for the NYPD, was going into one of those towers.  When that tower collapsed, his brother was killed.  After that, my friend sunk into deep depression.  He had seen his brother die, even though he didn't know it at the time.  A few years later, my friend killed himself over the grief.  I spoke to a New York firefighter years later, and I told him about my friend and his brother.  He said that there were similar stories of relatives killing themselves over their loved ones perishing that day.  So sad.

Antioch

 As mentioned previously, my two best friends during this time were Chris and Del.  Both had moved to the Nashville area to pursue their music career.  They comprised The Cobbwebs, which I wrote some lyrics for.
 By 1999, Del had moved back to Columbia because of some issues he had with another roommate.  Chris had started dating a girl named Janita.  He proposed to her, and their weeding was scheduled for May 15th.  Del and I drove up there for the wedding.  We got there in time for the rehearsal, even though we weren't actually in the wedding itself.  I had not met Janita until then, but found her to be funny and delightful.  A perfect match for Chris.  They had us staying in a motel along with the family in Antioch, TN where Chris and Janita lived.
 The wedding was nice and intimate.  Afterwards, the reception was held by a lake outside.  Chris had made a CD of songs that were very appropriate to the two of them.  I got a copy of it for my birthday about a month later.  That night, Del and I went to Denny's for supper and were scheduled to leave the next day to drive back to Columbia.  Our plan was to go by Rock City on the way home.  I had never seen Rock City, even though I had grown up seeing signs on barns around NC and TN to "See Rock City".
 As we turned into the parking lot, Del said he wasn't feeling very well and asked if it would be okay not to go to Rock City.  I was disappointed, but we were in his car, so I bowed to his wishes.  I was driving.  He said that we had to stop in the parking lot, as he had to throw up.  He did.  After that time, I continued to drive down toward Atlanta, stopping every twenty minutes for him to throw up.  He had gotten food poisoning the night before apparently.  What would have been around a two hour drive took four with him throwing up every 20 minutes.  It was like clockwork.
 When we finally got to Atlanta, I had to get something to eat.  I pulled into a McDonald's and asked Del if he wanted to eat anything or have anything to drink.  He said no and wanted to stay in the car.  I ate in the restaurant, and Del threw up more in the parking lot.  I felt bad for those customers who might have seen him, because they might think he was sick due to the food there.  Sorry. McDonald's.
 We finally got back to Columbia with Del still throwing up.  He actually felt better the next day.  Maybe, he just needed to get back home.  I just know I was glad to get into my car, which I had left at Del's house.  No more throwing up.

BJ

 Back in 1975, I was working in the Book Department at Belk downtown.  We hired two girls to work with me over Christmas.  One was named Gail and the other was BJ.  "BJ" was short for "Betty Jean", but she hated that name so she went by "BJ".  She and Gail were college students on holiday break.
 BJ took a liking to me.  I wish I could have said the same about her, but my heart belonged to someone else, who will remain nameless.  In 1976, I moved to Fort Worth, TX to start graduate school.  BJ saw the movie "A Star is Born" and became enamored by Kris Kristofferson.  She wasn't just a fan.  She was a fanatic.  Soon after that, I worked with Kris on "Semi-Tough" and wrote to BJ about that, having learned of her liking him.  She was overjoyed.  I had come in contact with her idol.  A year or so later, she moved to Nashville to get a writer's job at Billboard Magazine so that she could get close to the music scene and somehow to Kris.  She also had the notion that she could get Kris to stop drinking.  She was delusional, but at the same time very creative.  When I started working in the Record Department at Sanger Harris in Fort Worth, I got a few promo posters from RCA.  One was of Kris.  I sent it to her, and she just loved it, until she found out that Kris was with Rita Coolidge, and then she ripped up the poster and burned it.
 BJ still had feelings for me though.  From Texas, I would send her cassettes with music and thoughts on them, trying to bolster her spirits.  She became very depressed.  She would send tapes back to me, many of which were disturbing with her depressed mood.  When I moved back to Columbia in 1979, she had already moved back from Nashville.  She wanted to hook up with me, but my heart belonged to someone else, who will remain nameless.
 After many calls and letters, I finally relented and agreed to take her out.  It was my goal to tell her that she needed to move on.  I took her to see the movie "ET".  I must confess that I treated her like dirt.  I am not proud of it, but it was the only way to get her to see that she wasn't for me.  All of that went over her head.  She didn't get the idea, so I just stopped talking to her.  We started to drift apart.
 Around the mid 1990's, she called me and wanted to know if I could come over to her apartment for dinner.  It had been some time since our last meeting, so I agreed.  When I got there, she was cooking the dinner.  Apparently, she was not a good cook, because she burned the salad.  Don't ask me how, but she did.  The food was not good, but I tried to put on a brave face.  She could tell I didn't like it, but I lied and said I did.  I just didn't want to hurt her feelings.  Her mental state was very fragile.  We adjourned to her couch after "dinner", and she put her arms around me and thanked me for coming over.  I did not want this to go to the next level, so I looked at my watch and said I needed to go.  I upset her, but she let me go.  I got in my car and drove all the way to Sumter that night.  Why?  I was having mixed feelings about BJ, and I knew I couldn't let this go on.  I had to clear my head.
 Two years later, I got the news that BJ had killed herself.  The official reason was that she had been working at the Dept. of Social Services, and the plight of her clients had gotten to her personally, and she couldn't handle it.  She became severely depressed again and killed herself.  I blamed myself for her death.  If I had only been nicer to her.  If I had only listened to her, instead of running away.  Would she still be alive today?  Those feelings haunted me for a long time after, until I talked with a therapist in 2012.  When I went to her funeral, I was sitting in front of two older women.  In fact, I was her only friend at her funeral.  Everyone else were friends of her parents.  These two women were talking and said they had no idea that BJ had problems.  They said she went to Carowinds a week before her death and seemed happy.  I sat there getting mad.  No one listened to BJ.  They had no idea.
 BJ wrote poetry.  She had published a book of her work.  When I was over at her place that night, she gave me a copy.  The first poem in the book was called "First Love".  She told me that it was about me.  At her funeral, the minister read that poem.  He said he didn't know who it was about, but it expressed her feelings in a meaningful way.  I almost crawled under the pew.  I was so embarrassed.  A couple of weeks later, BJ's mother came over to my place with a shoebox.  She said that BJ would have wanted me to have it.  The box contained cassette tapes and letters that I had sent to her.  It broke my heart even more.  I still have them, although I no longer listen to the tapes.
 Do I still have regrets about BJ?  No.  Do I have any feelings still for BJ?  No.  I only wish that she was still around.  She made the choice to kill herself.  I thought for a long time that I had been the catalyst, but she made the choice.  She was very ill.  I just wish she would have gotten some help.  If you know anyone like her, listen to what they have to say.  Maybe, they won't make the same decision BJ made.  And, if anything good came out of her life, I can say honestly that I take the threats of others more seriously.  I hope you will, too.

Wino

 George Carlin did a great bit early on called "Wonderful WINO Radio".  This entry isn't about that, but if you want a laugh, find the bit online.  This story is about a time I backslid.  As most of you know, I had a drinking problem.  In fact, I am a recovering alcoholic.  I cringe at those ads on TV that say that they can cure your alcoholism.  They can't.  I know that I am one drink away from going back to my heavy drinking, so I choose not to.  However, there was one night that I let the temptation get the better of me.
 I had not had any alcohol since 1984, but it was Christmas 1999.  I had been invited to a Christmas party at a friend's house.  They were serving wine.  My thought was that it wasn't hard liquor, so I could handle it.  One problem of an addict, no matter what the substance, is thinking they can handle it.  I also wanted to be sociable and not make waves.  I guess I could have asked for a Coke or a juice, but wine is a kind of juice, isn't it?  Another problem with an addict is that you can't just have one and get away with it.  One leads to several more.  And on top of everything else, my resistance had been reduced in the 15 years since I had any alcohol.  In the old days, I could drink several vodka shots with no trouble.  Now, several glasses of wine later were affecting me in a whole different way.
 It was time to leave the party after a few hours of drinking wine.  I could barely get down the steps of the house.  One person asked if I was okay to drive.  Of course I was.   I had a little issue unlocking my car door, as I couldn't line up the key to the lock, but I was okay to drive.  There was a guy in another car that I decided to follow out onto the main road.  He eventually turned off to the right to go to his home.  I turned to the left to get to my home.  I took the left turn too wide and ended up in somebody's yard, almost taking out their mailbox.  I apologize for the tire marks in their front yard.  I got back on the street and continued home.  The most fortunate thing was that no police were out where I was.  I got home after swerving off of the road a few more times.  I didn't have to work the next day and slept it off.
 I have been offered all kinds of alcohol since then, but that wakeup call in 1999 showed me that I could no longer drink anything stronger than soda.  I am polite, because those inviters don't know my story.  I would never tell them that I am an alcoholic.  But, you know.  So, I am almost 20 years sober now.  Good for me.

Daddy's Gone

 My father had a lot of strong qualities.  One of them was humility.  I had very little idea about what he had done in life before our moving to South Carolina.  He just never talked about it.  On some visits to Martha Franks in Laurens, I would ask him about that time in his life.  The early days.  His work in churches around the country.  He was reluctant to share these things, but he told me some stories.  Like the time he was on a train to Ft. Worth in 1934 and happened to see the bodies of Bonnie and Clyde outside on a porch in Louisiana after they had been killed.  That was interesting, but I wanted to know more about his church work.  He told me that he thought he was the first full-time Minister of Education in a Southern Baptist church.  That would have been in the early 1940's, I think.  He told me about his designing church buildings with his Architecture degree from Clemson.  He told me about working in some of the greatest churches in the country.  I also realized that his stature in Baptist life was how I got into Anderson College, as well as not getting kicked out of seminary.
 In late September 1999, I was working at Rich's.  We were allowed to wear polo shirts and dress pants.  It had gotten a little looser and more fun to work there.  The musak played classic rock.  One afternoon  (September 28th) the phone rang.  It was my brother telling me that our father was ill and in a coma at the Laurens County Hospital.  The song playing in the store was "Turn Turn Turn" by The Byrds.  He said we needed to get up to Laurens and make some plans.  I told my supervisor that I had to leave, and she agreed.
 We got up to Laurens and immediately went to the hospital.  Daddy was lying in a coma.  He had experienced several heart attacks over the years and was now in congestive heart failure.  He had developed pneumonia and was on morphine.  You could pinch his big toe but get no response.  You could try to squeeze his hand but get nothing back.  My brother was a big baseball fan.  He asked the doctor that if it was the bottom of the ninth and two outs, and he had two strikes, would he get a hit and win the game?  The doctor said he had 2 1/2 strikes against him, and he wouldn't get a hit.  He said that even if Daddy woke up from his coma, he wouldn't know us.  Just 10 days before all of this, I had visited my parents at Martha Franks.  The last thing Daddy said to me as I was leaving was the same thing he said every time I left:  "I love you, and I'm proud of you."  Even though I had no idea what was to come 10 days later, those words were of special meaning to me.
 The doctor said that Mother had to make the decision about turning off the machines that were keeping Daddy alive.  We drove over to Martha Franks.  Mother was pretty weak.  John and I laid out the situation to her.  In a very small voice, she said "Let him go."  We went back over to the hospital and told the doctor what she had said.  He told us that it would take a while for him to die, so we might as well go back home.  By the time we got back to Columbia (a one hour drive), we got the call that Daddy had died.
 Another one of my father's traits was organization.  He had planned his funeral to the letter.  He had also written his own obituary.  So, my brother filled in the date of his passing and sent it to the newspaper.  He also went to Greenwood to talk with the funeral home there about the arrangements.  I got on the phone and called all those he had wanted to perform the funeral service.  They all knew what they were to do, as he had talked with them years before.
 The service was held at Martha Franks on October 1st so that many of the residents could go.  Mother was too frail to go to Greenwood, so she sat in a wheelchair between my brother and me.  She had wanted Daddy to be buried with his glasses and Bible.  The funeral home said that was not something they liked to do.  I explained to them that he would often fall asleep with his glasses on, so they reluctantly agreed to that, and his Bible was placed on his chest, with his hands on top of it.  That Bible was the one he used to do funerals and weddings.  It only seemed fitting.
 When we got to Greenwood for the burial, I wanted to say a few words from the family, but my brother said no.  It wasn't in the prepared plan that Daddy had drawn up.  I don't remember a lot about the burial.  It was chilly.  My cousins from Charleston came, and my aunt from Atlanta was there.  My friends from St. Matthews (the Stone family) came.  The woman staying with my Mother in Laurens told us later that Mother slept for the time we left Laurens and got to Greenwood.  When the graveside service started, she woke up and raised up in the bed.  About 20 minutes later, she laid back down in bed and went back to sleep.  They had been married 62 years.  She had been his partner is so many things in churches.  That was the only way to describe her reaction.  It amazed the woman with her.
 On our way back to Columbia, my brother and I were sharing stories about our time growing up in our family.  He is almost 8 years older than me, so we grew up separately for much of our lives.  We were both interested and surprised that much of our life was so similar.  It was obvious we were brothers.  There were people who wrote letters to us from around the world about what Daddy meant to them.  We got a picture of his impact on the work in churches, on the mission field, and in everyday life.  The letters were made into a book.
 I was having a hard time grieving.  I wanted to get back to work.  They gave me a week off, but I was just sitting at home watching TV.  I told our HR person about my trouble, and she said that I would be driving down the road and a song would come on the radio that would remind me of my father, and I would start to cry.  Every time I hear "Turn Turn Turn", I think of Daddy.  I was having dreams about him at night.  Some were nightmares.  I would wake up screaming "No Daddy No!!".  I thought I was going crazy. I was afraid to go to sleep for fear I would have another dream.A friend, who had lost his father earlier, told me to think of those dreams as "visits".  I did, and the dreams started to subside.  I still have them occasionally, but they are more comforting.  I also had people coming by the store to express their sympathies.  Even a few years later, a prominent pastor in SC came by.  He told me how much my father meant to him and his ministry.  I had to go into the stockroom and cry.
 We always thought that Mother would die first.  God had a different plan.  My father was not perfect.  We fought a lot.  I embarrassed him a lot.  He was hard to figure out.  But, I am also proud to call him my father.  I have one of his ties, which I wear on occasions like Father's Day, their anniversary, his birthday, and other meaningful events.  Most people don't know what I am doing with it.  They just see it as a tie.  I know differently.  And somehow through osmosis, I inherited Daddy's humility.  Before then, my ego was as big as all outdoors.  After he died, I became more humble.  Go figure.

Leper

 In 1998, a friend of mine named Stuart was the Minister of Music at Park Street Baptist Church in Columbia.  He called me one day and asked if I would act in an Easter Musical with Drama that he was directing at his church.  I agreed and asked him when they would be presenting it.  He told me it would be put on the following week.  He said the part I would play was the leper who was healed by Jesus.  I went by the church and picked up a tape of my part, as well as a script.  The part was about a page long and easy to memorize.  I listened to the tape in my car as I went from Columbia to Laurens to visit my parents and then back home.  The production was called "The Christ, The Cross, The Crown."
 I had two rehearsals with the cast and choir before the presentation.  I realized, after the first rehearsal, that I was far better as an actor than anyone else in it.  I seemed even better than the actor they had playing Jesus, which made me very uncomfortable.  I went to Stuart and asked him if I should tone down my part to meet the level of the other actors.  He said no.  I should raise them up to my level.  So, I did what he asked.  I met with some of the actors and gave them pointers how to do better.  The guy playing Jesus said he didn't need help.  I left him alone.
 The production also had an orchestra which sat just below the stage.  There was one place in my monologue where I would spit.  I told the woman below me in the orchestra that it was going to happen, and that she needed to prepare for it.  She told me she would be fine with it, but when I did during the rehearsal, she wasn't prepared for it.  When we ran through it again, she started to crouch down right before I did it.  Stuart told her not to do that, so she moved her chair slightly to the right and missed my spew.  Problem solved.
 Another issue was backstage.  One part of my training as an actor has been to do exercises before coming on stage.  One reason for this is to get my voice ready.  Another is to get my muscles limber.  And a third reason is to get my energy level up.  So, I was in a hallway behind the sanctuary doing my exercises.  One elderly choir member saw me doing this stuff, and she went horrified to Stuart.  She asked him if I was a Pentecostal person, because I was making weird noises and jumping around.  He had to explain to her that I was just getting ready to go on, and that I was a good Baptist.  Not to put down Pentecostal folks, but she was worried that I was going to speak in tongues during the program.  I didn't.
 The program went well.  Many people came, including my friends The Stones from St. Matthews.  I got a lot of praise for my role.  I was glad to do it for my friend.

Lamps

 After the TV Department at Rich's closed up, I was moved to a full-time sales position in the Lamp Department.  We sold table and floor lamps, as well as mirrors.  I knew nothing about lamps, except how to turn them on and off and how to change a bulb.  There was a guy working part-time there named John, and he helped me out a lot.  I learned about finials and harps.  I learned about wattage and shades.  I also learned about resin and brass.  Just about everything in the world of Lamps.
 We did special orders for the wall mirrors, because they were way to big to store in our stock room, and very heavy.  I had been used to just picking up the phone and calling a corporate honcho to get things on special order.  It stemmed from my days as a buyer at Belk.  It carried over to my time in TV's.  I had a supervisor in Lamps who didn't like me going over her head to order mirrors.  In fact, she made it perfectly clear that there was a chain of command in that store.  I would sell the mirrors, but she would have to be the one making the call to the honchos.  I knew all the honchos, and I also knew that doing it myself would mean the customer getting their order quicker.  After all, my supervisor was over several departments, and her time was at a premium.  Our store manager joked that my supervisor had my footprint on her head.  I finally had to relent and do what she said.  She also wore shoes that clomped when she walked, so you could hear her coming a mile away.  She was always impressed that her associates were always working when she saw us.  We goofed off when we didn't hear the clomping heels.
 One day, I was going to move some floor lamps from one display fixture to another.  We used power strips to plug in the lamps.  One plug would not come out of the strip.  So, I turned off the lamp and turned off the strip.  I got a pair of scissors to dig the plug out of the strip.  I thought the electricity had been cut off from the strip, but NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!.  There was a boom, and I was blown across the aisle.  My hair stood up, and my heart was fluttering.  I blew a fuse out.  I still have the scissors.  There is a burned notch out of one side of the steel.  I never did that again.
 One thing I had learned in retail was to develop friendships with other stores that sold your product.  That way, if I didn't have something that a customer was looking for then I would refer them to another store.  And, those stores would do the same for me.  Along about six months into my working in our Lamp Department, I was told that I had received a sales award.  My department was the number one Lamp Department in the entire Rich's organization of 70 stores in sales.  I got $100 and  my choice of a free lamp.  I chose a Dale Tiffany lamp that had flowers and butterflies on it.  It was a big deal for me and the store.
 I was riding high, when I got a new supervisor.  When I met her, she was looking at my department and said, "This place looks like S**T!  I was shocked that she would say that.  Surely, she had heard about my success.  Apparently not.  During this time, our store formed a bowling league.  I signed up.  I wasn't very good, until I started imagining my new supervisor's face on the bowling pins.  I started rolling strikes.  She helped me game and our team immensely.
 Another six months passed, and it was announced that I once again had the best Lamp Department in the entire Rich's company.  I got another $100 and my choice of another lamp.  I chose a basic table lamp this time.  I ended up giving it away to my neighbor.  My success in selling really impressed my bosses.  So much that they moved me to another department.  The Lamp business died.

Slim Fast

 A friend of mine at work had a husband who was dying.  When he passed on, she gave me a case of Ensure that the hospital had given him, which he never used.  I had not had any Ensure before, but I started in on the case drinking one just before bed.  I started feeling better.  After all, I was the king of junk food and fast food.  Neither of which was very nutritious, so the Ensure helped with counterbalancing my choices in food.
 So to this day, I drink an Ensure or an equivalent product before bedtime.  I let the vitamins and minerals swim around my body, while I sleep.  I drank Boost for a while, but I found it hard to get into the drink because of that foil at the top.  The downside to doing this is the cost.  Ensure generally costs around $8 for a six-pack.  The generic form is usually $2 cheaper.
 I was talking one day to a friend at work about Ensure, and he told me that he did the same thing, except he used Slim Fast.  He said it had all of the vitamins and minerals as Ensure, but it was cheaper.  So, I went into Food Lion one night after I got off work and bought a case of Slim Fast.  As I took it up to the register to pay, the cashier looked at me and then at the Slim Fast.  Again, she looked at me and then at the Slim Fast.  I realized she was wondering why a thin person was buying Slim Fast, so in a straight face I told her, "This stuff really works!".  I paid for it and started out the door.  I turned around to see the cashier pointing at me and talking to her fellow employees.  They had their mouths open.
 Maybe I encouraged some of them to try Slim Fast.  I would like to think so, because some of them needed to.  At least, I would like to think that the cashier has told that story to her friends and relatives for the last 20 years.  I took it home, but I really didn't care for the taste, so I went back to Ensure.

WebTV

 When I worked in the TV Department at Rich's, they wanted us to sell a new item called WebTV.  It was an internet device that would attach to your TV, and you could surf the web.  It used a wireless keyboard, so you could sit in your recliner and check out the internet without any wires.  Today, we have broadband, and we use a wireless mouse from a USB port, but back then it was a dial-up device.  Consequently, it could be a bit slow at times.  And, it had no hard drive, so there was no downloading.  You could attach a printer, if you wanted to save anything.  You couldn't upload anything either.
 They gave us a sample device to show in the store.  It had been modified with parental controls, so we could not show any adult content.  One thing that I liked to do was to find live webcams from around the world.  One site in particular was on the border between Finland and Russia.  We watched trucks cross that border in the snow in real time.  That was cool.  We also found webcams on college campuses and could see students walk around.  There were customers who tried to find adult material, but that was blocked.  However, we found a way around the blocking.  Typing in "Pamela Anderson" into the search line brought up some stuff that the parental controls did not block.  It was not something we shared with the customers.
 WebTV also had email capability, so we could email friends from work.  Not that we did (in case any of my former supervisors are reading this).  I fell in love with WebTV, so I bought one and took it home.  It became my internet surfer of choice.  I already had a Compaq dial-up computer, which I mainly used to play games and use AOL to chat with folks, but WebTV worked for all of tasks I would do on the internet.  I would sell stuff on eBay, but since you couldn't upload pictures, I would have to leave that blank on my listings.  I would try to describe my items in great detail, so the buyer wouldn't be disappointed when they bought something.  That worked well.
 I used WebTV for about 10 years, until I broke down and bought a laptop.  Cable internet and wi-fi became the norm.  Dial-up became out of date.  Now, many TV's have streaming services on them.  WebTV was the father of all the stuff we have now.  20 years ago seems a lifetime ago in the tech world.  It is.

DVT

 As you probably know, I have spent most of my adult life in retail.  I have made many friends along the way.  After Belk closed officially in 1996 in Columbia, almost everyone went to other places.  Some stayed with the Belk organization in other towns and cities.  Others took jobs where they could find them.
 My friend Ginger from those days went to work at USC.  I had a day off from Rich's and thought I would pay her a visit.  As I was walking toward her work, I had a sharp pain in my right leg.  It made it very difficult to walk.  The pain was intense.  I made it to her job and told her that I was in a lot of pain.  She urged me to go to the doctor.  I had noticed some pain while at Rich's, but had just ignored it.  I have had lower back pain almost my entire life, so I just thought they were related.  But, this seemed worse.
 I went to see the doctor that day.  They did some tests and suggested I get an ultrasound on my leg.  They were worried that I had a clot in my leg that could move to my heart, lungs or brain.  They made an appointment for me to go to an ultrasound lab near USC.  When I got there, the nurse said that the jelly they were to put on my leg would feel funny.  It started out cold and quickly turned hot.  They ran the detector over my leg and found I didn't have a clot.  That was the good news.  The bad news was that I had Deep Vein Thrombosis which was causing the pain.  The veins in my right leg were swollen.  I was given a prescription for some support hose.
 When I got to Hawthorne Pharmacy, I was fitted for the hose.  I had worn tights before in plays, but this was way more substantial.  The hose was designed to support my leg and allow the blood to flow smoothly through my veins.  I could tell an immediate difference.  No more pain.  The hose went all the way up to my hip.  The nurse said I could wear a garter belt to keep them up, or I could use a rubber band.  I opted for the rubber band.  I asked her how long I would need to wear them.  She said for as long as I lived.
 I put it on my right leg and went to work.  The rubber band was tight, so I took it off and just held it up by tugging from my pants pocket.  That seemed to work okay.  I wore it pretty much every day at work for several years.  Gradually, I started feeling I didn't need them every day, so I started wearing them when I felt the need.  I started walking more and getting some exercise, which helped my leg.  I now wear them when I know I am going to be standing up for a long period of time, or when I become inactive and need the support.  A result of 30 years of retail.

Rock Hill

 I was driving up to Charlotte on Sunday morning in the late 90's.  I was planning to visit the used record stores.  It was in the summer.  My car had air conditioning, but I had to use it sparingly, because of the strain on the motor.  I was reluctant to open the windows to get the hot air in my car, so I was driving some of the way with no air.
 As I was going up I-77, I began to have chest pains.  The pains got worse, and I was having a hard time breathing.  I started to panic.  I was close to Rock Hill, SC and saw a sign for a hospital.  By now, it was around 12:30pm.  I got off of the interstate and headed for the hospital.  When I pulled into the parking lot, I stopped the car and opened my car door.  I immediately threw up.  I was sweaty.  The chest pains had gotten worse, and I thought I was having a heart attack.
 A security guard saw me in distress and called for help.  They brought out a gurney, and rushed me into the ER.  I looked around the waiting room and saw many people waiting for help.  I was moved ahead of all of them.  I felt sorry for them, but the nurses said that people with chest pains are a priority to be seen.  That was good to know.  They rushed me into an examining room and started taking vitals.  I was in a lot of pain.
 After triage, they started working on me more.  The tests came back negative for a heart attack.  They did more tests and had me drink something.  Soon, the pain subsided.  I was there three hours, when the other results came back.  It turned out I had a bad attack of acid reflux.  The doctor gave me a prescription and asked where I lived.  I told him that I lived in Columbia.  He told me I could drive back home, but I had to take it slow.  I had been through a real ordeal.  I drove back taking two-lane roads and driving 35mph.  It took about three hours to get home.
 The next day, I went to my doctor's office for a follow-up.  Just to be on the safe side, my doctor said he was going to do another EKG.  The nurse came in to put on the sensors.  After a few minutes, they all came back to me in a panic.  They told me that I had had a massive heart attack.  I had no symptoms of one.  I knew that from my father's heart condition and what happened to him when he had a heart attack.  They called a cardiologist who was sent the strip.  He told my doctor that a large portion of my heart was missing and that I needed to be rushed to the hospital.  I felt fine.  Just before the ambulance came, the cardiologist ordered another EKG.  Another nurse came in and replaced the sensors.  The results came back that my heart was fine.  It turned out that the first nurse had put the sensors in the wrong place on my chest.  The doctors called off my trip to the hospital.  When I went back a week later for another follow-up, that errant nurse had been fired.  They all apologized to me for upsetting me.  You think?

TV's

 I had worked in Luggage at Rich's for a couple of months when an opening came up in the TV Department.  My supervisor put me there.  I sold TV's and stereos primarily, and I loved it.  I grew up with TV.  From Howdy Doody to the present.  My co-worker's name was Thom.  He told me the first day that I wouldn't want to turn on the TV, when I got home.  I thought he was crazy.  He wasn't.  When I got home from work, the last thing I wanted to do was watch TV.  I had done it all day.
 Due to my vast video library at home, I brought in some movies to watch during the day.  I also made some movie and music clips to play to promote the TV's we sold.  Yeah, that was the reason.  The real reason was I couldn't stand to watch network TV during the day.  Thom liked movies too, although he got in trouble for playing "Basic Instinct" in the department.  He had gotten a promo copy and had never seen it before.  We also played "Batman" that we had gotten from Blockbuster.  Little did we know that someone had tacked on some of "Debbie Does Dallas" at the end of that tape.  Our supervisor loved "Top Gun" and demanded we play that.  We saw "Top Gun" probably 100 times.  It was kind of cool to turn up the sound at the beginning to hear the jets taking off.  That would rattle your fillings.
 We had a part-timer join our department.  He wanted to bring in some videos to play.  I told him that there were a few rules.  First, the video had to be in color to promote the TV's.  I had wanted to bring in The Three Stooges and the Marx Brothers, but they were in black and white.  The second rule was no excessive violence.  The third rule was no profanity.  I learned my lesson, when I brought in a Crosby, Stills & Nash documentary that I had not seen.  At one point in the video, David Crosby called Stephen Stills a (paraphrasing) "Effen A-Hole".  Just when that happened, a little boy and his mother were passing by the TV.  The little boy shouted "Mama, he said the F word".  He said that several times for the whole downstairs of the store to hear.  I didn't bring that video anymore.  And, the last rule was no nudity.  So, it was on a Sunday afternoon.  I was on one side of the department, writing up an order for a TV.  The big-screen TV was on the other side.  Suddenly, I heard a lot of laughter.  I looked up to see a woman emerging from a bath completely nude.  The film was "Death Becomes Her", which had been brought in by our part-timer.  I ran to the TV but couldn't get there quick enough to turn it off.  Needless to say, we banned him from bringing in any more movies.
 Thom and I averaged selling around a million dollars of merchandise, but Rich's made a corporate decision to get out of selling TV's and stereos companywide.  There just was no markup on the merchandise.  So, we had to sell off the stuff.  That was sad.  After that was done, we were transferred to other departments.  I went to Lamps, and he went to rugs.  Our departments were next to one another.  We played a lot of trivia games during the boredom.  No more fun in TV's.  I went back to watching TV, when I got home in the evenings.

Pyramid

 During the late 90's, I was trying my best to find money.  I was working at Rich's, but it was not nearly enough for my lifestyle after declaring bankruptcy.  I found an ad in the back of a magazine about making millions.  That appealed to me.
 I wrote to the address, and I got instructions on how to make millions.  I had gotten books on how to make millions, but there were a lot of hoops you would have to do like by stocks or get grants from the government.  This notion was better.  I was to buy a mailing list from a company.  They assured me that all of the addresses on this list were people who would do the same as me.  Gullible people.
 I paid $100 for the list.  I also bought a roll of stamps and some envelopes.  The idea was to send $1 to five people, and then move your name up one on this form letter.  Based on a series of steps, it was possible to make a million dollars in $1 increments.  Maybe this was true in theory but not in actuality.
 I spent around $150 for everything and mailed my letters.  The form letter told the addressee to send $1 to the person that sent this to them, and then move their name one spot up on the list of five.  Confused yet?  I know I was.  In the end, I got $1 from a woman in Kansas.  That was it.  I guess the "gullible" people knew more than me.  I also wrote a film company in Kuwait and asked them for money.  I never heard back.  I never heard back from Oprah either.

Encounters

 During the 1990's, I had some encounters with some famous and sort of famous people.  One was with BB King.  He had come to Columbia for a concert.  The show was at the Township, and it was great.  After the show was over, I went around to the stage door to see him.  He was still inside signing autographs for a bunch of people who paid money to meet him.  I waited for over an hour before he came out.  I was one of a handful of fans back there.  His limo pulled up.  They had a special place made in the trunk to put Lucille (his guitar).  One of his assistants gave each of us a picture of Mr. King and a plastic guitar lapel pin.  These were pretty special, because the people inside didn't get them.  When he came out, he said hello to us.  He was very gracious.  I left to go to my car.  His limo passed by me, and the driver honked the horn.  King waved at me.
 Another was Bob Dylan.  He also played the Township.  It was 1997.  I danced in the aisle during his show.  Good stuff.  After the show, I headed back to my car and saw his tour bus pulling out of the parking lot.  I tried to catch up with the bus.  It was going toward I-26, as he was heading to Knoxville for his next show.  I drove 70mph and running red lights to catch up with his bus.  I finally did about 10 miles outside of town.  My plan was to ride behind the bus to Knoxville, but I failed to notice I was running out of gas.  I pulled alongside the bus and honked my horn.  Dylan looked out of the window.  I waved, and he waved back.  I yelled out "No Gas!".  He smiled.  I pulled off of the interstate to get gas.  His bus continued up the road.  I went home.
 The Shirelles were playing at the Township along with Gary Lewis.  I was sitting on the second row with Chris and Del.  I was on the aisle.  As they were about to sing "Going to the Chapel", the lead singer pointed at me and wanted me to join her on stage to sing the song with her.  Fortunately, the man sitting in front of me stood up and went on stage to make a fool of himself.  That was a close call.  We met Gary Lewis at the stage door after the show and gave him a tape of our music.  He liked it.
 And then there was Elizabeth Ann Hilden.  She was the Pet of the Year for Penthouse in 1997.  She and her husband lived close to me in Forest Acres.  I would see her at the Piggly Wiggly next to Ravenwood frequently.  She was nice.  I knew who she was, but most in the neighborhood didn't.  When I had first met her, I told her of my friendship with Ginger.  We hit it off, as I treated her as a person, not judging her for what she did.  One Saturday, I got off of work and was exhausted.  I had to stop by the store to get some food.  Elizabeth had been to a magazine signing at a bookstore.  When I got out of my car, she was getting into hers.  She smiled and greeted me.  I was so tired that I could barely speak.  She looked perplexed as to why I wasn't more friendly.  I told her I had to get some food and walked on by.  Shortly thereafter, she and her husband moved away.  I hope it wasn't my fault.

Revenge

 A friend of mine went to a conference in Atlanta.  She was in a hotel room, and sharing it with another woman she didn't know.  This other woman hit on my friend who told this woman she wasn't into women.  The woman went downstairs to the hotel bar and got drunk, leaving my friend in her room alone.
 When she got back from her conference, she told me that story.  I told her that we needed to get back at this woman, so I had my friend tell me her name and where she worked.  I also needed the city.  It turned out she worked in Charlotte and worked at a store in a local mall.  So, about a week later I headed up to Charlotte.  I went to that mall and found her working there.  I called her by name.  She looked at me blankly.  Then, I proceeded to tell her a total lie.
 I asked her if she remembered me.  She said no.  I said, "You don't remember me?  We met at a bar in the hotel in Atlanta about a week ago."  She still didn't remember me.  I then said, "We seemed to hit it off.  I bought you a drink, and you said that if I was ever in Charlotte to come look you up at your store, and we would go out and party."  At this point, she seemed to be buying my story, only because I had all of the facts right, and she had been drinking heavily, so it could be a true story.  I had never seen this woman before.  I then went on to ask her what time she got off?  She said that she was done at 6pm, so I told her I had some stuff to do in Charlotte, but I would be back at 6 to take her clubbing.  Still with that blank stare, she said okay.
 So, I left that store and drove back to Columbia.  I didn't take her out.  I was back in Columbia by 6pm.  The next day, I told my friend how the encounter went.  We had a good laugh about it.  I am sorry that the woman in Charlotte didn't get a date that night with me, but she wasn't really into guys after all.  And, she never knew that my friend told me about her.  It was perfect revenge.

Rich's

 I was burned out from working in retail and was looking for other work.  After all, I had worked at Belk, Sanger Harris and JB White's.  It was time for a change.  I looked everywhere for a job.  I had taken a little time off from my Charlotte experience to unwind, but I was still looking.
 I went back to Columbia Mall to put in an application at Rich's Department Store.  I really didn't want to work there, but I was getting desperate.  I had rent to pay.  I went into the Human Resources office, and the lady there asked me if I had worked for Phil Barrett.  I said yes.  He was our store manager at Belk.  She said that she didn't need to check my references, because I was coming to her from a good person in Phil.  It pays to know people.
 I was hired to work in their Luggage Department.  I had experience in that area from other stores, so it was an easy fit.  The department was next to the employee breakroom.  I had two stockrooms in the department.  Across from Luggage was Housewares, and next to Luggage was TV's.  I liked spending my time in TV's, as it got kind of boring in Luggage.  One day, the supervisor for Housewares came to me and wanted me to do stock work in her department.  She was not my supervisor, and I told her that was not my area.  It was made clear to me that I had to do what any supervisor assigned me to do.  I grumbled but did it.
 Word got around town that I was in Luggage, and the business started to pick up.  I only worked in that department for three months.  I would be transferred to another department, which I will cover next.  One thing about Rich's:  if they liked you, they would move you around.  I thought the goal was to make a statement in your assigned place.  Their goal was to move successful sellers to other places.  Interesting concept.

Bankruptcy

 In 1995, I had a lot of credit cards and no money to pay them.  In fact, I had one with a $10,000 line, and I couldn't afford the minimum monthly payment.  In all, I had $52,000 in debt.  I was living way beyond means. Using credit cards was an addiction for me like being on cocaine.  I had collection agencies calling me all the time.  Morning until night.  It created a bad case of anxiety for me.  I was afraid to answer the phone.  This was before cellphones, so I got these calls only when I was home.  My answering machine took care of a lot of them, but I got to the point that I would roll up into a ball when the phone rang.  I had to stop it, so I decided to go the bankruptcy route.
 The first thing I had to do was get a lawyer.  One was recommended to me.  She was supposed to be the best.  I went to see her and set up a payment plan for her fees.  We then got to work.  She gave me some forms to list everything I owned, including furniture, pictures, records, memorabilia, and more.  I brought the list back to her, and we began assigning a value for each item.  I came up with a figure, and then she told me to not do what something is worth but rather what something could be sold for.  Then, I came up with that figure.  She then asked what I could get for it, if I sold it at a flea market.  I came up with that figure.  It was considerably less than the first amount I had done.  It was that amount that we used to access my "wealth".
 It was then time to go before a bankruptcy judge.  A paralegal went with me to court.  This was in the Spring of 1996.  There were others there to plead their cases before the judge.  One man lost his truck.  I was sure I was going to lose my assets, the majority of which were my records.  There was an auctioneer in the courtroom who determined how much they could get for selling the stuff that people had.  When my case was heard, the judge asked me one question.  He asked if my records were worth anything.  I said that they were worth something to me.  I had not planned on saying that.  It just came out.  The judge looked at the auctioneer who shook his head no.  The judge declared my case to be a "no-assets" case, and my debt was cleared.  It meant I could keep my stuff.  I was relieved.
 All of my debts were wiped out except one.  Sears refused to accept the judge's decision.  They said they would set up a payment plan with me to pay them $15/month.  I agreed to that.  The first bill I got from them was more than the $15/month that we agreed to.  I called them and told them they had made a mistake on the bill.  They apologized and said they would send another bill.  I never got another bill from them.  I was afraid to go into Sears for several months after that, but slowly I returned there.  No one said anything about my debt.
 The only real downside to it was that the bankruptcy was on my credit report for several years, but I could answer the phone again.

Charlotte

 After Belk closed all of their stores in Columbia, I was out of work.  In looking around, I found a company that wanted to hire me.  It was Prudential Insurance.  They liked my ability to sell.  So, I went to their orientation and found out quickly that this was not the place for me.  They wanted me to sell insurance, mostly to my friends and family.  That was the first strike.  They also wanted me to go through the phone book and make cold calls to people.  That was the second strike.  The third strike came, when they informed me that I would not get a commission from the sale for the first year.  A mentor would basically get the money I had worked for.  I would be paid enough to pay for rent and gas.  I never went back.
 I was needing money for rent.  I saw an ad in the paper for someone in a marketing firm.  That sounded doable.  I went to their office in my three-piece suit and found it was a telemarketing place, and all of the women on the phones were in shorts and t-shirts.  I was very overdressed a d walked out of the door.
 Then, one day the phone rang.  It was my old Belk store manager, Phil, wanting to know if I wanted to help them close the books on the stores.  He said the former warehouse manager, Don, was going to do it, and he needed someone familiar with Accounts Payable.  So, I said yes.  The job was in Charlotte at the headquarters for the Belk family that owned our stores.  We had a van, and we left the Columbia Mall parking lot every morning at 7:30 and drove to Charlotte to be up there by 9:30.  The offices were on Tyvola across from South Park Mall.  When we got there, we had all of the held invoices and the stock receipts in several boxes.  We would take a receipt and match it to an invoice.  We would check to see if they matched.  Once that was reconciled, we would send that invoice to be paid.  We sometimes could only pay partial invoices, which usually meant a call from a vendor when they got their check.  We would try to get out of the office to return home by 3:30-4:00 to avoid the rush hour traffic.  If we didn't, we wouldn't get back to Columbia until 7:30-8:00.  That happened some at first.
 Charlotte has a lot of nice restaurants.  We tried to go to a different one each day, since Belk was paying for it.  One reason we would go to a different one was that Don had bad luck with some of them.  Either he got sick on the food or get hurt.  One time, he bit into a sandwich that had a staple in the meat.  He cut his lip, and it wouldn't stop bleeding.  Our food was free that day.
 We also would go up in all kinds of weather.  It snowed twice.  We braved the snowy roads one day, but the other we turned back before we got to Rock Hill.  Our safety seemed kind of important.  Another thing we did was stop for gas along the way on I-77.  We stopped at all of the gas stations at least twice and got to know the workers inside.  They got to know us too.
 The job was starting to last longer than we had planned.  We were supposed to take 3 months to close the books.  We weren't anywhere near that to finishing, so we started a new plan.  Pay the invoices without checking the stock receipts, as long as it was not over $10,000 each,  We started okaying checks like crazy.  We even joked that we could issue ourselves $10,000 checks without authorization and no one would no.  Of course, we never did that.  Too bad.
 We finished up our job in February 1996.  We had started just after Thanksgiving in 1995.  The books were closed, and we went home.  Phil got a job as a Belk store manager in Orangeburg.  Don got a job at a bank.  I was still looking at the want ads.

AP

 There was a meeting called in the breakroom of all those Belk employees present.  The announcement was that the Belk store at Columbia Mall would be closing in three months.  We had already closed the downtown Belk store, and all of the offices and warehouse had moved to Columbia Mall.  The reason for the closing was that we were not making enough money to stay open.  Because of that, we had been holding invoices to be paid for over a year, and we were not paying any of our vendors, so they had stopped sending us merchandise.  Belk had given a three-month notice so that employees could find other jobs.  Some did, including one woman in Accounts Payable.  I was promoted to her job.
 Each Monday, I would go into the manager's office, and he would give me a list of lies to tell vendors when they called asking about their money.  I kept the lies on a yellow pad.  When a vendor would call Accounts Payable, I would read a lie off of the pad, such as we had an issue with the plumbing that took some money to fix.  Or, your money will be coming as soon as we reconcile the receipts.  Sometimes, the vendor would call more than once a week.  They would say that I told them something when they called last, so then I would go down the list and pick out another lie.  I was not proud of this task, but it kept the vendors at bay for at least a few days.
 When the Columbia Mall store closed, the operation moved to Columbiana Centre.  By this time, there were two of us in Accounts Payable that moved there.  It was a girl named Ginger (no not the same as a previous story) and me.  We had been able to get some money together by closing of the two stores, and turning the Batesburg store over to another branch of Belk, so we were able to cut checks to some vendors.  Ginger's job was to check invoices against receipts, and my job was to put forth those invoices for payment.  Our "office" was in an old stockroom on the "second" floor of the store.  There was little ventilation, so it got very hot in the summer and very cold in the winter.  We had to take breaks during the day, so we could go downstairs and breathe.  We had a radio in the room to help with the boredom.  Ginger was forever calling a song request into a radio station to play "Mother-in-Law".  I got very sick of that song.
 Speaking of songs, one of the cuts that Belk made was to cut out the Muzak in the store.  The employees and some customers complained about the dead air.  I went home to my extensive record collection and recorded 20 90-minute cassette tapes with instrumental music.  We played those in the store over the PA system.  That worked well.  When Christmas came, I recorded another 20 tapes with Christmas music.  Yes, I had enough records to do that, too.  When the store finally closed in 1995, those 40 cassettes disappeared.
 Ginger and I would go to lunch in the mall's food court.  In the winter, it was fun to see the high school kids come to the mall wearing shorts, and seeing their blue skin.  It was their fashion statement.  One day, we watched a guy from WIS TV try to eat more ice cream than someone else.  We got on the news that night cheering them on.
 When the announcement was made in 1995 that Belk was closing the Columbiana Centre store, we liquidated all of the merchandise still there.  There were just a few employees left, including me, our warehouse manager, and our store manager.  As we were about to lock up the store for the last time, the three of us went into the Men's Department area and turned on a big screen TV that was still there.  We watched the verdict in the OJ Simpson trial.  We couldn't believe our ears, when they said "Not Guilty".  It is kind of funny how you remember where you were when events happen.  During the Bronco chase, I was closing up my parents' house for the last time in 1994.  Now, we were closing up the last Belk store in Columbia for the final time in 1995.  It was a very sad day.  I still have on my key ring the key to the warehouse at Columbiana Centre from Belk.  It doesn't open anything now.

American Eagle

 During the latter days of Belk in the mid-1990's, they had a travel agency in the Columbia Mall store.  I used that agency to book a flight from Columbia to Nashville to visit Del and Chris who had moved there.  The only direct flight was on American, so I took it.
 When I got to the airport, I found that the plane was a small prop plane that was actually American Eagle.  The plane sat around 28 people.  It had two pilots and one flight attendant.  The cockpit was separated from the cabin by a curtain, and you could see the pilots easily.  Because the plane was so small, it could not be attached to the walkway from the terminal to the plane, so we had to walk out onto the tarmac to board the plane and load our luggage.  This whole experience made me nervous.  Primarily because a plane like this one had crashed in Alabama a week before and had killed everyone on board.  Our plane was about half filled with passengers.
 Apparently, my nervousness was seen by most everyone in the plane, because the flight attendant asked if I wanted to sit by her at the front of the seating area.  I agreed, and she held my hand as we took off.  She gave me a Sprite, and I had a window seat to look out at the scenery.  I started getting nervous again, when we started flying over the mountains.  The plane seemed to be just above the trees.  I could look down and see a person mowing his grass.
 After drinking the Sprite, I had to go to the restroom.  It was at the front of the plane and very small.  The ceiling was lower than I was tall.  It also was made of metal.  While I was in there, the plane hit an air pocket, and my head hit the ceiling.  I saw stars.  When I came out, I had a big bump on my head.
 We got to Nashville, and we were all thankful we landed safely.  I stayed in Nashville with my friends for a few days and got to see the city.  We went to a couple of record stores, and I found some cool test pressings.  Then, it was time to board the American Eagle back to Columbia.  I knew better what to expect with the flight.  All of the seats were filled this time around.  A guy had brought his guitar on board.  Liquor was served.  Although I didn't drink, enough people did.  We had a party on the plane with singing and guitar playing.  I forgot all about being scared.