The morning of the first day of the year is gone most places across the states with about an hour left in the Southwest Corner. It is dreary here. Rain in the Southwest corner.
i have the black-eyed peas cooking on the range. i’ll make the cornbread with a small piece of cornpone for me later this afternoon. i had wonderful blueberry pancakes courtesy of Maureen this morning. i forgot to cook my Tennessee Pride Sausage and went without. i have just finished my third and last cup of coffee.
New records from Blythe have been played along with Roy Orbison’s “Greatest Hits” and “The Freewheeling Bob Dylan,” his second album and the one that put him on the road to success. i heard an Orbison song in August 1959 when John Sweatt took Earl Major, Jimmy Hatcher, Jimmy Gamble, and me to Johnson’s Dairy. It was between the two-a-day practices for Heights football. i had lost 10 pounds in the morning practice — this was back when you were a wimp if you drank water during practice and took salt tablets before practice. We each got a half gallon of Johnson’s orange drink. it was all gone before we got back to the campus. i had regained the lost weight before the afternoon round. After that practice, i had lost another 15 pounds.
Note: i almost cried when i wrote this. All the others in that car ride have crossed over that bridge. They all were just flat super people. We were close, townboys at a predominately boarding prep school.
Today, i have added a few LP Albums to my spreadsheet. i actually might complete the cataloguing this year. i estimate there will be about 800 of them. Several came from Maureen, a number from her father including what must be all of Carmen Cavallero’s albums, and quite a few from Keith Macumber who gave them to me when he and his wife Becky decided to live the rest of his life on the road in a “recreatation vehicle — I wonder how many folks nowadays would know what “RV” stands for (oops, ending the note with a preposition). Sadly, Keith crossed that bridge several years ago. Good man.
i’ve added several photos to my ten or so “History Notebooks.” Photos, slides, documents, newspaper clippings, and other memorabilia are included. i’m not sure i actually will finish this project. That stuff is everywhere.
As it moves toward noon, it occurs to me i have not watched any football or basketball today. And i think about years past when football occupied this first day. Sugar Bowl, Cotton Bowl, Rose Bowl, and Orange Bowl, preceded by the Gator Bowl on New Year’s Eve. That was it. Now, there is a glut and they mean little, even the playoffs, which undoubtedly will prove the champion is not really the champion, just bragging rights for the winner and a topic which will be slobbered to death by the talking heads.
But oh, those New Year’s Bowl parties. My favorites were at 911 South Main in Paris, Texas. My previous in-laws, Col. Jimmy Lynch and Bettie Lynch threw the party. They probably had 60 or so people wandering through the house at those parties.
Televisions were set up in separate rooms with a theme for the game that would be on that TV. The dining room TV had a bowl of cotton balls sitting on top. The living room TV had a bowl of oranges on top. The Sugar Bowl TV was in the opposite corner of the living room and had a bowl of sugar on top. The Rose Bowl TV was in the breakfast room and boasted of an urn filled with red roses.
Food and drink, especially drink, was more than plentiful. They put a two-foot circle of cheddar cheese sent from Wisconsin. They had finger sandwiches, full sandwiches, barbecue, hot dogs, chips and dips everywhere of every kind.
Drinks began with bloody marys. The Colonel, a.k.a. “The Alligator,” was proud of his bloody marys. The bar in the kitchen contained every type of liquor with beer and wine aplenty.
It was great fun, the type that we don’t have anymore because the games have grown into spectacles with nearly all in poorly attended stadiums and are spread out over a month. Sad.
Yesterday, we had no intention of bringing in the New Year. Maureen went to bed just before the ball fell in NYC. i stayed up for another hour but kept falling asleep, finally surrendering and hitting the rack myself.
i recalled one about twenty years ago. Danny Boggs, Maureen’s brother, gave us a round of golf and the New Year Eve’s party at Singing Hills out in El Cajon. The golf was fun. We quickly changed into our party dress and tux and went to the dining room. The only seats available was a table with eight older folks who came together every year. They were delightful.
The band was almost as old as the folks at our table. They played oldies, and i mean old, big band stuff. Maureen and i danced and laughed. And when the clock struck midnight, the band played “Auld Lang Syne” like they were Guy Lombardo. In the middle of the dance floor, Maureen and i kissed. It was a great night.
Change doesn’t stop. It seems the parties are bigger, longer, and louder. The fireworks are more plentiful, louder, and more spectacular. People obviously enjoy them. But i have changed as well. i don’t need to be entertained anymore, i just want to enjoy whatever it is. i will likely watch a bowl game tonight or one of our favorite movies. And i am with that lovely woman who shared a kiss with me long ago and this morning., We will soon have blackeyed peas, cornbread, and a glass of champagne (after all, we didn’t come close to drinking all of that bottle last night.
May all of you have a healthy and successful 2026, have fun, and accept change gracefully.