Black 8 Track Tape

1.75 miles on the Dreadmill this a.m........during my walk/jog routine my iPod played from a select group of 268 songs I have playlisted as "Golden Oldies". This is a very select group that is ever evolving. To make the group you have to be stand out for some reason......you have to make me want to sing along.....dance (not a pretty sight)......give my goose bumps.....or just be a solid oldie but goodie.

Today two of the songs that played very close together on that playlist Massachusetts and To Love Somebody..........woosh...........I was transported back in time to my days at Southeastern. Hanging with my buddies Greg Marten and Tommy Bolton. We had a black 8 track tape, the "cover" was ripped off so it was black with no identification of what album it was......but we knew.....it was the Bee Gees.....we had other 8 tracks.........I should say, they had other 8 tracks...............T & G had green cars, Bolton's a Green and White (or cream?) Cutlass 442 and Greg had a Green Toyota Corolla much like the picture above.....just not as pimped out as the picture shows.......life was "great" back then, no worries, just fun.........Jim's Fried Chicken.....a Monkey...........The Brent Apartments...........hiding in the closet............gin and tonics............Orange Street Park..............Livingston Parish Softball Champs.............Saturday mornings playing softball and booray in Satsuma.........playingng 11 vs. 9 against the Satsuma Seedticks......The Edgar Winter Group..... the Help Session...........$1 six-packs of beer........Crab bait.......Biloxi.......Greyhound Buses.......could Artie Moore run home in the time it took to go inside and call him on the phone (he answers the phone!!! freaking fast)...........Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young.....................lots of good memories.

Luckily for me both Greg and Tommy's parents liked me. Nothing wrong with that.

We would often stop at Marten's Grocery to get luncheon meat sandwiches where Mr. Frank Marten would grill us on our plans for the day. He kept up with us and the rest of his tribe to make sure we were doing the right thing. Mr. Marten was great. He was like a father to me (He knew to watch over me since my parents lived so far away....or maybe he just felt sorry for me, I believe it was the prior). He showed lots of interest in what I was doing and was always quick to help in any way he could. He came by the frat house one day to take me to Thibodaux to go see Greg play for Southeastern against hated rivals Nicholls. He left us way too soon. I loved that man!

Out on Pleasant Ridge Road the Boltons lived on some quiet, shady land. I always wanted to live out on Pleasant Ridge Road. Man could Mrs. Bolton cook. OMG, pure country cooking at its best. She knew that I was hungry.....she would feed me anytime of the day or night, lucky me. Mr. Bolton was the principal at Annie Eastman Elementary where I student taught. Good man.....good heart. Not a big talker, so you better listen when he spoke.

Was there a better time in my life?.....no worries.....no cares.....great friends.......fun, fun, fun.........people to take care of me..........I was quite blessed to have been mentored by Mr. Marten and Mr. Bolton and fed by Mrs. Marten (did I mention that great Italian cooking, shame on me) and Mrs. Bolton.

God Bless Mr. and Mrs. Marten

God Bless Mr. and Mrs. Bolton

Viva Greg

Viva Tommy

Viva the Baltimore Orioles

Viva Tower of Power

Peace Upon You