A trip down memory lane...

If Man could go back and live his teen-age years again, he would do it in a heartbeat. He loves me and the life we have, but in his mind, he had the perfect life from 12 to 19. The "Mayberry" kind of life. As for me, I didn't think being a teeanger was good, much less great, and would never, ever want to re-live that time of my life. My mother was very strict, especially on me, and nothing about those years was pleasant.. but, so you won't think I am in need of counseling to get over that time in my life, I won't go there. And no, I don't need counseling. I am good now, and my mother and I get along now because I can actually tell her my side of the story without fear of being grounded for a minimum of six weeks for "talking back" a/k/a having an opinion.

ANYWAY... Husband and I took a drive down to the town of D'Lo this past Saturday. He would probably ride down there every weekend if I would go with him, but the population of that town is less than 300, and in my opinion there is absolutely nothing to do there, and I mean NOTHING, except ride around and talk about what happened at the park, or on the rocks at the Strong River, etc. more than 35 years ago. You can only do that so many times before I start dozing off. But, I tried to be attentive as he told me his stories for the umpteenth time, since these were obviously happy times in his life. I heard about the horse he had that wouldn't cross a certain bridge without the rider (Man) getting off the horse and pulling him by the reins. I heard the cat story, again, and I won't even go there. I heard about his pet hawk that used to ride on the handle bars of his bike. I heard about who used to live in that house, and who used to live down that road, who owned the store across the street from his grandmother's house, and I heard about the "dark woods." I heard about the hole in the rocks in the Strong River that bascially had no bottom. And they used to trick people to stepping off in the hole while crossing the river. He thought this was funny, and I told him what I would have thought had he let that happen to me. We looked at the trees where Husband and friends carved their names and/or initials many, many years ago. I took pictures of the names, but they didn't turn out very well.. We rode on down the road to Mendenhall, which is where he went to school. We stopped in the Mendenhall Grocery and Grain which is now a gift shop, and visited with one of his friends, who is also the owner. I actually enjoyed this part because I got to shop... and I found two really cute LSU huggies (one for me and one for Daughter) and some jewelry that I could NOT live without. When we left there we made a pass around the town square and he talked about how busy it used to be in the middle of the day on a Saturday, and how not busy it was in the middle of the day on the Saturday we were driving through, almost 40 years later. He remembered the diner his grandfather had, and he talked about sitting there many Saturday mornings just watching the cars go by.

Then, we made a pass by his high school, and then we headed home. And, he thanked me for going with him. I just smiled.

He truly was the "Opie" of Mendenhall. He roamed the streets of D'Lo and Mendenhall, without a cell phone, and his dad (Sheriff Taylor) and grandmother (Aunt Bea) never worried about him or gave much thought about anything bad happening to him. He was always safely home by suppertime every single day. He would sit at the dinner table with his dad and grandparents, have a home cooked meal, then watch a black and white TV until bedtime. And, just like my family, they didn't have air conditioning. They had an attic fan and slept with the windows open. And he wouldn't have had it any other way..