He told me last week he loves fried chicken livers.
So do I.
The Shell staion on the corner has a deli with all kinds of deep fried southern favorites. You can't cook like that at home. The hot grease has a little spice and flavor from the variety of all the delicious things they cook.
Today is his 62nd birthday. By the time a person is sixty two, a lot of good and bad has come and gone. He has seen his share of both. Lately, more bad.
Nearly every day, he sends me a text message asking me how I am doing. He is the first one to smile and say, "God still has me here for a reason."
He is four years older than me. That doesn't seem like alot right now, but when you are a kid, four years is a full generation. When I was still at Hickerson Station elementary, he was at the junior high. When I finally got to the junior high, he was at the high school.
The school bus was the great equalizer. No matter your age, or personality, you were tested. The nice kids were nice, the mean kids were mean, and the kids that wanted to fight, found somebody to fight. For an hour in the morning, and an hour in the afternoon, we were pressed together, left to work it out among ourselves. We all had no choice but to ride the bus. Generational differences didn't matter on the bus. If you were a smart mouth kid, another kid of any age might shut you up, or smack you around.
He was one of the tough guys. I've aggravated him over the years about him being the toughest kid on the bus. I guess he had to be. With the Baker's, Anthony's, the Webb brothers, the Bowen's, and his own cousins, There was plenty of tough to go around. He didn't take any crap from anybody. Looking back, all these kids were figuring out who they were, and trying to survive. All different home, and family situations, each one tough in their own way.
There was a sense of right and wrong on the bus. He stood for what was right. Little kids and people with problems didn't get picked on, at least when he was around. As older kids graduated or moved on, the code of school bus justice was passed along.
Today, I called and told him I might stop by. My sisters, Melanie, and Sheri, have kind of adopted him as family. Maybe he adopted us. They check on him, and help him get to his appointments, the grocery store, and the post office.
He also has a wonderful care giver right now. Karessa is there three days a week for a couple of hours to help him get things done. Today, she brought him birthday baloons, a cake, and a gift.
He seems to be in a good place. He lives in town now. It's easier to pop in for a short or long visit. During the longer visits, we get back on that school bus and ride for awhile. It does us both good to remember and talk about the people, and things from those days.
Today, he was happy to see me, and his eyes lit up when he saw and smelled the fresh chicken livers. "Get me the ranch dressing," he said, and I did. I never thought about ranch on chicken livers. But I didn't say anything. Then I tried it. It was delicious. He is still teaching me things.
The movie Jeremiah Johnson was on. Interesting back story about the guy that movie was made about ...https://storymaps.arcgis.com/stories/78392f5d677a434c9e065490a78c4208
It was about half over. I got him a can coke, and he ate. For awhile, we watched the movie, and didn't say anything. Then, he apologized for being quiet. I said, "Aww, We're good." Not too many people can have a good visit like that without talking.
Now that I think about it, even Jeremiah Johnson had Old John Hatcher to show him the ropes.
He and I go back a long, long way. Same neighborhood. Same bus. And, my sisters watch out for me too.
We played basketball in the driveway till two or three AM many times. The guys that worked at the Minit Saver for my dad would come out after the store closed at ten. Under the lights, we played two on two or three on three. If we got tired of that we played 21, or tip-out.
When I was in Jr. High and high school, the Rocky movies were big. He and I would go jogging late at night, sometimes 11PM or midnight. On top of the hill at Short Springs, we would stop and do push ups and sit ups in the middle of the road. It was quiet, and the stars and the moon were our lights. We talked alot. Mostly about boxing, because he loved boxing. Leonard, Hagler, Hearns, and Duran. When we got bored with that, we jogged the mile and a half back home.
Maybe God has us all here for a reason. Part of that is to be thankful, and give God honor and praise. Part of that is to check on one another, and be a little help and a blessing to each other.
He holds on to the promise of Heaven, and a new body that works right.
He told me today, "My past... is not too good, but my future... is great!"
Well said my friend. Well said.
Happy Birthday Jerry Anderton ! We love ya buddy !