Friday, July 16

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July 16, Friday - Didn't work as hard today. Spent afternoon in office. Didn't feel too hot all day. Boss said I didn't have to work Sunday. I'm glad!

July 17, Saturday - Took Bud to hobby shop first thing. He told me I was one of the good ones. So is he! So ends my first week back. Hot today. 93°

July 18, Sunday - Intended to go to church, but slept until 10. Rained on and off all day. Went over and showed Mom Colorado pictures in evening.

The office in Kroger parlance was usually a square platform near the cash registers at the front of the store. For mom, it meant she could sit on a stool and count tills, make deposits and change for the checkers. I learned to count tills from my mom. She'll get through the next day and have Sunday off. Saturday was her day to work until close, finish off the week's books and make deposits. She would typically turn around and be back at work at 8:00 a.m. on Sunday. Turn and burn.

The "Hobby Shop" is Northeast Toy and Hobby, directly across Independence Avenue from Northeast Junior High. Owned by the Collins family, the Hobby Shop was my Saturday addiction, mostly car models, greatly detailed, and way more expensive than I would have thought, considering. Model kits by AMT or Revell would have retailed for about $3.95 - about $32 in 2020 purchasing power. I had boxes and boxes of spare parts from other kits, and would use them to build custom versions and one-off hot rods. Jesus, I was spoiled.

The good news is that the time I invested working on 1/25 scale model cars returned benefits when it came time to work on real cars.  The analog is flawed when it scales up, but I knew where everything went, how most things worked, and I rebuilt my first small-block Chevy engine the following year. The Visible V8 Engine helped me there.

I can't remember, but I think the firing order was the same as Chevy's 1-8-4-3-6-5-7-2. You're welcome.

The rest of the kits were by AMT, Revell, and occasionally, Monogram. The vast majority of my cars were customs, hot rods, and a few race cars. 

Shoot, if I was doing this now, you could even get a White Freightliner Cab-Over.

That earworm is provided at no charge. I got all the way into July without posting a music link, or a reference to Lyle Lovett. This video showcases some of my favorite people in the music business doing a favorite Townes van Zandt song. They are all consummate musicians, but pay particular attention to Keith Sewell's amazing flatpicking skills. Bonus: one of the great drummers of all time, Russ Kunkel, not behind a huge drum rig, but perched on a little cajon. He looks happy to be there. (Russ Kunkel and I sport similar hair styles.)

Saturday, March 13

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March 13, Saturday - Made a trip to the hobby shop as usual, then downtown to get underwear. Margaret and Eva got me a pretty gown. Not very busy Gampper said I had a job as long as I wanted one.

March 14, Sunday - Pretty slow Sunday. Feel much better today. Myrtle and Lee came by to see me. Everyone in the store has promised to come and see me. Lois Ward is replacing me.

March 15, Monday - Paid rent, got hair fixed, went to store, did laundry, went to Dr. Hesser. Go to hospital next Sunday, operation Tuesday Went out for dinner and went downtown and shopped.

As usual, mom's expensive kid demands tribute in the form of ready-to-assemble plastic. Gampper, Kroger Zone Manager for Kansas City, Kansas just made a friend for life when he promised mom a job no matter what.

Slow Sunday at the store - Myrtle and Lee are mom's maternal aunt and her husband from Topeka. Lee Crawford ran a laundry a block west of the Kansas State Capitol building. Dad always referred to Lee as my rich uncle, and while he may have been well-off relative to our means, he wasn't a Patton family benefactor, and had a family of his own. His grandkids visited Kansas City a couple of times, but we really didn't hit it off. They were suburban kids, and we, the big-city mice, didn't agree with what passed for a Topeka sense of style.

Grandma Patton (Pansy) with Lee and Myrtle Crawford

Rent. Mom and dad moved us into our little house on 11th Street in 1955 after several years in Fort Scott, Kansas. My uncle Lawrence, aunt Gladys' husband, was employed by Cirese Investments, owned by Big Joe and Mary Cirese. They charged mom and dad $60 a month for the house on six lots. Lawrence and his son Frank helped dad excavate a large enough area under the house to serve as dad's bait factory. (Just thinking about that makes me cringe. There was a small area that held a water heater and room for a washing machine. They dug out five times that much area, hauling the dirt out in buckets. It was like something from The Great Escape.)

Dad's gigantic industrial Hobart mixer had a permanent spot on the original concrete pad, and the rest of the operation horseshoed around the basement, through the center grade beam, and over to the east side of the basement. Dad eventually put a ladder and trap door in our bathroom that allowed access, though not easy access, to our basement in case of a tornado or the beginning of World War III. Either seemed likely in those days. The original entrance, a short ramp facing south, was still handy for doing laundry or dropping off 55-gallon barrels of blackstrap molasses or cheese trimmings that dad used to manufacture various baits. Stick around, this gets interesting later in the summer.

Anyway, sixty bucks a month. In today's money, maybe $550. A few years later, when big Joe died, there was talk of raising the rent, but Mary held off. When dad had his heart attacks in 1962, Mary reassured mom that she would never have to pay more than $60 for rent. Mom finally moved out of that miserable little house and into assisted living in 1979. Her rent was still $60, the equivalent then of about $130. Anyone who says anything bad about Mary Cirese will have to answer to me. She was a saint.

Saturday, January 16

January 16, Saturday - Ran errands before work. Bud had to have some models - Marv a tax book. Real busy. Doug had the books messed up. Will finish in the morning.

January 17, Sunday - Worked today. Not real busy. Mom spent the day by herself. Will have her over for supper one night this week. Marv clipped his dog - got too close - clipped him in the butt.

January 18, Monday - Took Bud to school. Got hair done, ran errands, groceries, laundromat - the usual. Picked Bud up and watched television till 10. 
30°

I probably milked that broken left foot for all it was worth, at least a couple of model cars to work on.

Mom was still dealing with Doug The Horrible Trainee.

Dad needed someone to talk to during the day, so he bought an AKC registered platinum miniature poodle from the Tutera family, a subset of Mary Cirese's family, and named him Rebel. He had him professionally groomed a couple of times, but decided that the cost involved was well beyond his budget. He bought a pair of clippers, and proceeded to do it on his own. Dad would have Rebel stand on the ironing board, and would proceed to give him an overall buzz-cut. There would usually be at least one instance of the plaintiff yelp of a bleeding poodle followed by dad cussing. We used the same pair of clippers to cut dad's hair. I have continued the tradition and have cut my own hair since 2003. I do not have a poodle. So it goes.

Mom's dad died the previous October, and the Patton kids watched over their mom pretty much all the time. Up until just before Grandpa Tom's death, my uncle Bob lived at home, upstairs at the house on Garfield. 

Monday - mom's day off, but never a day of relaxation - always a long list of things to get done. More television. Mondays were TV throwaway nights, but mom never missed "Andy Williams/Perry Como" or "Ben Casey".

Please keep in mind that our TV was an aging Admiral table model a lot like this one - tubes aplenty, a mechanical channel tuner, and certainly no remote control. I was the designated channel changer and volume controller, and woe to the child that spun the channel knob too quickly. In the middle of the front of the set was a gold removable door that covered the vertical and horizontal hold controls, as well as the brightness setting. We never put the door back on, because you had to futz with this stuff all the time. On top of the set there was always a pair of rabbit-ears that required a deft, nearly mystical touch to readjust for each of the three stations in Kansas City - WDAF, Channel 4, NBC; KCMO, Channel 5, CBS; and KMBC, Channel 9 ABC.

About every six months or so, the TV would go on the fritz, and Bert, our TV repairman, would come out and swap out a handful of tubes - 6AU7, 6AU6, 12AU7 - these were nearly always the culprits. Once replaced, things went back to normal for a while.

Come to think of it, we were completely surrounded by "Berts". Bert, the TV guy, Bert, The Manor Bread delivery driver, Bert the chiropractor . . .

Thursday, January 7

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January 7, Thursday - A usual Thursday. Real warm 70°. Bud spent part of his Christmas money from Sonnie ($10.00) - bought a model. Hope my disposition improves.

January 8, Friday - This morning it was 62° when I got up. When I came home from work it was 15°. Bought groceries $16.00

January 9, Saturday - Went to Dr. Guptkey - lost 1 pound in seven weeks - 173. Gave me some bladder pills. They help. Doug and I did book work tonight. Trainees - phooey.


So there's the weather report - typical Kansas City January, or any other month, for that matter - warm, then cold, then freezing, then tornadoes. Maybe not tornadoes. Sonnie is my half-sister from dad's first marriage, "Sonjalee". Never thought much about halfs and others - always thought of her as my sister. Sonnie was twelve when I was born. She is pure Simpson - six feet tall.

Sonnie, with her two boys - my nephews - Brian and Mark. Photo ca 1963

$10.00 gift from Sonnie in today's money: $77.00

"Models" refers to plastic car kits. I discovered cars when I was about twelve, and threw myself into all things automotive with the same zeal that I applied to music and science. I built hundreds of car kits, customized and detailed them, and entered them in contests. There were also the occasional airplanes - especially B-25 Mitchell bombers. My dad helped build them during WWII. He was 4F, but went to work at North American Aviation in the old Fairfax District of Kansas City, Kansas as an assembly expeditor.

My car obsession quickly filtered over into real life. By the time I was fourteen, I could rebuild a small-block Chevy motor on my own. 

Mom bought a week's worth of groceries for $16.00. In today's dollars, that's about $124

Mom talks about her weight again. She's fighting a lifelong battle with heredity and lifestyle. Her mom was always fairly heavy, as was her dad. Her dad was Type I diabetic, and mom rightly feared the disease. Even so, she was an emotional eater. Happy? Eat. Sad? Eat. Bored? Eat. In this way she and I are close almost forty years after her death.

Back at work, she has to close the store on Saturday night with a trainee that will turn out to be a thorn in her side.