I Once Walked in Oscar Robertson’s Shoes

This was the exact same shoebox

This was the exact same shoebox

The big news on television these past many days has been the shootings in a Charleston church attended by blacks, the shooter of course was some misled white kid.  People are calling it a racist hate crime and calling for the removal of the Confederate flag above the state’s capital building.

When I write these stories, I usually try to figure out what the tale will be before I write; sort of a mental outline.  Sometimes there might also be an underlying theme or learning lesson.  I think the underlying theme on this one is going to be the topic of blacks and whites embracing each other, (or at least not killing each other).  Hold on, hold on…before you click on the ‘Back’ button, read some more please.  I’ll try to keep this tale light, (and hopefully, sometimes funny).  Keep in mind that this story’s written by a guy who grew up in a family that was about as diversified as they can get in Hamiltucky.

Patrol Guards of the Lincoln Elementary WWE

Come and take your medicine

Come and take your medicine

Being the new kid in school is no fun.  Oh I’m sure that maybe if you’re the new hot chick, maybe then it’s not a bad experience, but when my parents moved out of the Fillmore Elementary school district and into the Lincoln District in Hamilton, Ohio, the years of growing up on Prytania were about to begin.

I left Fillmore feeling popular and loved.  I was the kid who got hit by a school bus and lived to tell about it (link), I had lots of friends, got great grades and teachers liked me well enough to let me clown around every now and again.  Fifth grade at Lincoln, now that was a different story.  Even today, I can only remember less than a handful of the names of the kids in my fifth grade class.  I can’t recall the teacher’s name either.  She was young and pretty and the only teacher whose name I cannot recall.  I have no memories from my 5th grade class either; it’s almost a complete blur.  Given all the stories I’ve recounted so far here, this may be hard to believe, but it’s true.  I spent that year trying to adjust, trying to blend in and trying to figure out the new rules. Continue reading

Growing up in my Fifties – Drink some Water You Idiot!

Almost

Almost

My story blog site is named Growing up on Prytania because most of my informative years were spent on Prytania Avenue in Hamilton, Ohio.  The act of ‘growing up’, (at least in my opinion), is all about learning about oneself; learning about your body as well as your inner spiritual self, how others perceive you and then using that knowledge to become a better person.  I am well into my 50’s now and last summer Mother Nature tried to teach me something about my 50’s body.  I didn’t learn the lesson very well so she gave me a strong slap on the wrist with her ruler the other night.  Ok, now she has my attention!  Continue reading

The Summer of Discontent – It was the Best of Times

Where for art thou Romeo?

Where for art thou Romeo?

It was the best of times.  It was the worst of times.  This famous literary opening well describes the summer following my getting caught in my girlfriend’s bedroom by her mother.  Let me back up a tad in case you are a visitor, new to my story blog site.  One of the multi-chapter stories embedded within my blog is the telling of my wife’s and mine early days together, beginning with our meeting in junior high through to getting married.  These can be found by clicking on the “Kim Saga” Category.  In the last story, (link here), I had gotten caught in “Sheila’s” bedroom by her mother.  We pick up now from that point. Continue reading