Ride, Sally, Ride

On a lazy, sun-filled summer day, our neighbors suggested that I take their polo pony out for some exercise. Sounds simple enough, right?A gentle trot through the woods might be just the thing on a beautiful morning. So, I consented and my neighbor saddled the horse and we were ready for our outing. I mounted this gorgeous beauty with the shiny brown coat that stood at least fifteen hands high and thought to myself, “This is going to be a fun day.”

Off we went, through the woods with a gentle breeze blowing the trees making everything seem perfect as we trotted along. Maybe for me, it seemed perfect but obviously not for the horse. The horse that decided trotting was not for him – he wanted to gallop. And gallop he did! 

He took off at a run with me in the saddle trying as hard as I could to get him to stop or even slow down. It did not happen! 

Somehow as we flew through the woods, we managed to miss every low-lying branch and limb coming out unscathed. I don’t know how but we did. I was screaming the whole time we were riding. These were blood-curdling screams (my sons can tell you about my screams). 

Shouting: “Oh God, oh God – please help me, please help me! Stop! Stop! STOP!” 

I was screaming for help out in the woods alone, surrounded by trees, trees, and more trees. 

After what was – I’m sure—were only minutes that felt like an eternity, we came to a clearing, and there on the other side was the barn where the pony had been kept for the last few days. 

We were still moving at a gallop and I was still screaming for him to stop, still trying to stop him as he raced toward the barn.

As we got closer, I noticed that the door was open (that’s good). I was sitting high in the saddle when I realized that even though the door was open; this was more a garage than a barn and the opening was not as tall as we were (that's bad)! 

Oh great!!! 

In just a few seconds I was either going to be minus a head or my butt was going to be flat on the ground and the rest of me with it! Either way, it wouldn’t be pretty. 

I knew I had to stop this horse. “I think I can! I think I can!” 

Still screaming for help and still trying with all my might to get control of the situation and the horse, I realized we were only yards away from the door opening. When, all of a sudden, and I’m sure with no help from me, the horse came to a screeching halt – and I mean HALT! 

I just knew that I was going to sail right out of the saddle and over the horse’s head but somehow, I stayed glued to the horse’s back. 

I am certain that it was God’s hand holding onto me. I think he finally answered my prayers or was tired of me screaming, “Oh God, oh God, oh God!” 

After regaining my composure, I dismounted, walked the polo pony into the “stable,” handed the reins over to the owner, and quietly walked out like nothing had happened.  

My knees felt like wet noodles and I know I shook for at least an hour – this just wasn’t one of my best days. 

How often do I go horseback riding, you might ask? 

You know how everyone will say, “If you fall off the bike (or in this case the horse), you need to get right back up and try it again?” 

NOPE! Not me! 

I have many other less stressful things to occupy my mornings. And, they don’t involve screaming till I have no voice or dodging tree limbs that will leave me senseless. 

Yeah, just give me the simple life. 

~ Jeannie Joyner

Why'd It Have To Be Snakes?!

I know people who are scared to death of snakes; who won't look at them and who certainly would not want to be in the same place with one. Thank goodness I am not one of those people. Not saying that I would love to look down and see one slithering by my feet, but I would not panic, scream, and run.

When I was in high school, my father took a full-time job managing the grounds of a private estate. This involved clearing the property of trees, underbrush, and poisonous plants. He also had to manicure the property, plant new foliage and flowers, and clear an area for a fairly large vegetable garden. That might sound simple and easy—but hey—it wasn't, particularly in Charleston where the summer gets so hot and humid. And this area had lots and lots and lots of snakes... and an alligator.

This property had an island that could only be accessed by foot over a small earthen dam. We lived on the property but not on the island. I loved to take long walks around the property because everything was so beautiful and the more my dad cleared and worked it, the more beautiful it became.

It was not unusual for me to walk out our back door and find a snake or two curled up on our patio sunning themselves—or whatever they like to do! How do you read the thoughts of a snake?

I was dating David at the time, and on this particular day, my father was working over on the island. We decided we would walk over to visit him and, not locating him immediately, we decided to check the backside of the island where we were sure he must be.

Aha! We spotted him.

We were walking toward him and had stopped for a moment under a tree when my dad picked up his shotgun and aimed it right at us.

“Wow!” I thought, “he must be ticked off with us about something!”

All of a sudden – BAM! POW!

Dad had fired the shotgun at us!?! What??? Surely not!!!

My dad was trying to kill us??? Why???

Should we run or just stand there and be taken out???

Dad lowered the shotgun.

I thought as he walked towards us, “Is he coming closer for better aim?”

He raised his hand and pointed in our direction.

“What are you pointing at,” I said.

David and I turned to where he was pointing and we saw it...

A snake—a huge black water moccasin!

We were just standing right by it! David said it looked exactly like the roots of the tree. It was amazing how well that snake blended in with its surroundings. We never saw it!

We both breathed a sigh of relief as David’s color began to return to his face.

As I mentioned before, my dad's job was not easy. Besides killing over 300 poisonous snakes, there were other obstacles to overcome. The water had been full of ducks, fish, and turtles, but my father noticed that they were slowly disappearing.

One day when he was fishing, he spotted a 10 to 12-foot alligator. He ran into the house to let us know the reason this was happening.

Are you kidding me! I would sit for hours by the water and fish from the bank!

I... I would sunbathe on the bank!

I would picnic on the bank!

I could have been eaten on the bank!!!

My father tried numerous times to get the Fish and Wildlife Service to take care of the problem with the alligator, only to be told—after three or four conversations—that he would have to handle the problem himself. So, he and a friend decided to spend the day hunting that alligator.

And hunt they did.

By the end of the day, they spotted the gator on the shore. They shot it, dragged it across the island, and displayed their day's work for all to see.

I never looked at the water or the island quite the same after that.

What had once been a place of relaxation, I now approached with caution. Those wonderful lazy summer days resting on the bank—they didn't happen after that.

From then on, I enjoyed the lake “from a distance.”

What appeared to be a little slice of heaven had its hidden dangers, and I saw the warning signs.

Danger, Will Robinson! Danger!

~ Jeannie Joyner

Tennessee Mountain Home

I have always loved Dolly Parton. Love her music, love her tacky clothes, love her cute personality. And, every September after our choir retreat, we'd head over to visit Dollywood in hopes of getting a glimpse of her in the park.  

This particular year we invited our close friends, Lois and Clay, to come along with us. While we were in Dollywood, we decided to see a show that showcased Dolly’s relatives. And who was performing in this show? 

None other than Dolly’s Uncle Bill – the uncle she credits with getting her started in the country music business (sitting with her through auditions and watching after her while she was on the road). 

We were sitting on the front row at the show with our son John next to us in his wheelchair. Since he is legally blind, he needed to be close to the stage to view the show.  

After our visit to the park that day, David suggested that we might try to locate Dolly’s childhood home. We all jumped at the chance to go on a little “side-trip.” Locust Ridge shouldn’t be hard to find and we were sure that everyone in Sevierville would be able to direct us. 

Boy, were we wrong!    

We couldn’t count the number of places where we stopped for directions only to be “directed” to the wrong location. After all, we were tourists - not blood kin! After hours of searching, we finally realized that the residents of Sevierville would not give up the info we needed to get to Locust Ridge. They were protecting her from “people like us”.  

So, the heck with them! We ventured out on our own headed in the direction where we thought Dolly’s homestead might be.   

Aha! David spotted a local gas station/convenience store along the way and decided to run in to find out any info he could. 

In a few minutes he came back to the car very excited and said, “You’ll never guess who I ran into in there!” 

“Who,” I said. 

“Uncle Bill, Dolly’s uncle. He’s gonna take us up to Dolly’s place on Locust Ridge. He said it would be very difficult to find on our own. He is headed home in that direction anyway.”  

Hallelujah! Are you kidding me? What an opportunity!  

So, off we went, following Uncle Bill through miles of scary, winding roads going higher and higher up the mountain until we came to a church up on top. 

We pulled off into the parking lot behind Uncle Bill. He got out of his van and explained that that was as far as he could go because his van wouldn’t make it down the steep hill to her property. We got out of our cars and stood there talking and laughing and taking pictures for about forty-five minutes. He was the nicest man. He told us he remembered John from the previous day’s show. I guess that was why he decided to help us.   

We had the nicest visit... but all good things must come to an end. 

He told us that his wife had supper ready and that she would kill him if he was late. After he told us where the entrance to Dolly’s property was, we parted ways with a great big thank you for the help - leading us to Locust Ridge when no one else would - and the stories he blessed us with.  

We decided to head down the road to the steep hill that led down to the property. 

No problem!  

Once down the hill there wasn’t much to see. The property was surrounded by a wooden fence that must have been twelve feet high with a huge double gate secured by a massive lock. You could peek through the fence but you could only see a very large manicured lawn with the driveway leading to the house hidden somewhere behind all the trees. 

The excitement of it all! 

We were thrilled to be standing outside her homeplace on Locust Ridge and getting the chance to spend time with Uncle Bill. We took more pictures to commemorate this special event.  

But now, we had to get back up the hill! 

Getting down the hill was no problem – driving back up proved to be a little more trouble. Lois and Clay headed up first and with a much bigger engine they made it up with only a little struggle.  

Now it was our turn. Did I mention that the driveway was covered with crushed rock? Didn’t think so.   

We started up the hill – all of us leaning forward and rocking – like that was really going to help. How dumb could we be?  

Our tires were spinning and spinning and we felt like we were going to slide back down the drive. 

"We may have to camp out down here! Was this really a good idea?” I thought. 

Then, all of a sudden, with a mash of the gas, we lunged forward and we were up and out! Yep - we had made it! Maybe we should have thought that through a little more.  

Well, it was done. Was it worth it? Would we do it again? Sure.  

What an exciting day we had and how unexpected was it that we would meet and spend time with Uncle Bill. And when we talk about it with John, he gets the biggest grin on his face. 

We have seen Dolly in concerts and in her parade, and we have had the pleasure of conversation with her family at the park. We have also toured the costume department and had conversations with her personal costumers. This was EXTRA special!  

Who knows what adventures await you? Whatever your idea is of a great adventure, or wherever it might be, just keep your eyes open so you can enjoy it when you FIND it! 

~ Jeannie Joyner 

Let Me Take You On a Sea Cruise

Cruisin’? I never thought that I would ever go on a sea cruise. 

“Why?” you ask. 

Number one: I'm scared to death of the water.  

Number two: I'm scared to death of the water. 

Number three: Well, you get the picture. 

David and I had talked about going on a cruise for years, but because of our crazy schedules, I thought that would never happen. Too many conflicts - work schedules, school schedules, and performance schedules - all excuses right. 

Fast forward, ladies and gentlemen! We have gone on five cruises since then. And, I must say, I love to cruise. 

Was I still uncomfortable as I stood on deck and looked out over the dark waters of the ocean and thought about how deep that water was? You betcha! That's why I tried not to do that. 

I tried to think of positive things; like dining in the opulent dining rooms, shopping in all the upscale gift shops, going to wine tastings, attending art exhibits, etc., etc. In other words, I wouldn't stand on the bow of the ship and think about the Titanic. 

My favorite cruises have been the ones that have included my two sons. It was still difficult to arrange all the schedules, but like we've always heard—where there's a will there's a way. So, with some planning, we actually scheduled a cruise for all four of us. 

For those of you who know our son, Brandon, you know he can't sit or stand still. It was no different on the cruise. If there was an opportunity for him to participate in or attend something, he was going to do it.  

He would read the ship schedule then let us know what the plans were for the day. 

One night, Brandon said to me, “Mom, I have an idea for the four of us to have a fun evening and I know you'll love it. It's called ‘Quest.’” 

“I have no idea what that is, Brandon,” I replied. 

“Mom, just say yes. You'll love it,” he said. 

So, evening came and we headed into an area of the ship that resembled a men’s club—swanky furniture and dark wood décor. We took a table about halfway back from the stage area. 

The emcee came out to the stage and explained to everyone that we were to be divided up into teams of 8 members each. We found two other couples who agreed to join our team. 

BINGO! 

The host then explained that he had a list of items that he would read from. We would then gather those items (if we had them) and one of the team members would rush up to the front. The first one to reach him with the item would get the most points. That was all well and good as long as he asked for a watch, a sock, a hat; but then he asked for a bra! 

“Great!” I thought to myself. 

I could feel my face turn red. 

“Ain't no way I'm gonna do that,” I thought to myself. 

At that point, I felt like all eyes were on me! I don't even think the other two girls were wearing bras. 

David looked at me and said, “Well so much for that one. We've just lost.” 

He knew how shy I was and that no way in heck would I take off my bra—in this club—at this table—in front of all these people. 

Then, I thought... “I have to take one for the team.” 

So, without giving it another thought, I pulled my arms in through my blouse sleeves, slipped my bra straps down my arms, unhooked my bra, popped it out under the hem of my blouse, and—waiving it like a white flag—yelled, “Here it is!!!” 

And, off we went, running up to the emcee to collect our points. 

Once back at the table, David said, “I can't believe you did that! I can't believe you did that! And, in front of your son. I can't believe you did that!” 

And, even after all that, we did not win. 

But who cares? 

It was so much fun I would do it all over again! 

I told my family as we were leaving that evening (with my bra on) that I couldn't remember laughing so much in a long time. 

Ooey, ooey baby, 

Ooey, ooey baby, 

Ooey, ooey baby... 

I'm so glad we all went on a sea cruise! 

~ Jeannie Joyner

Forever Young

They say that only death and taxes are certain but without getting into politics, I would claim that there is a third thing available as long as we each are alive - birthdays. We can make claims to the contrary as regards the number or the date, but the truth still prevails.  

My lovely wife has long held the belief that her birthday is her business and hers only. We all know the fallacy of that position with the multitudes of required signatures and birthdates needed for federal forms, hospital forms and applications for virtually anything else. 

She has often baffled questioners by giving only the month and the date when asked so that they don’t do the math and compute her age. 

We celebrate Jeannie's birthday as boldly as she will allow but always with purposeful intent and love for this remarkable lady. Her special birthdays are slightly more celebrated than those in between (as per her request), but there have been notable exceptions - her 16th specifically. We obviously go back a long way.  

This was the first of her birthdays we celebrated together, having started going steady in late December 1963. She had not had the chance to explain her position on birthdays and parties at that point. I was happy that her special day fell on Sunday that year because she turned “Sweet 16.” It allowed for a party with our good friends after youth group on Sunday evening, so I had someone get her cake and had it brought to the house where we met so she wouldn't know till we all got together. 

Christmas past allowed me to get her very first charm bracelet. And, for her April birthday following, I found her first special charm to christen the bracelet - a cash register with a drawer that opened revealing my heart. 

Now I had no idea the damage I had done to this very shy, beautiful, young lady by exposing her to such a large spotlight of attention that included the comedy of opening multiple boxes one inside the next, each one wrapped but smaller than the next, until she reached wit’s end and finally revealed the gift. 

She was such an incredibly lovely mix of expressions and emotions ranging from anger to laughter, to tears and sweetness. 

Over the years I have attempted to replicate that first birthday celebration with a modicum of success, but always with the knowledge that she would be as gracious and thankful as she was at 16. 

The time and place, the number of guests, and the size and value of the gifts were different as befit the birthday being counted, but our joy and love were always the same - knowing that we were with those we loved, sharing that love and being thankful for the opportunity. 

So... happy birthday my little calendar girl.  

You'll always be my “Sweet 16.”  

Love always, David 

The Songs of Babel

The Glowettes - our ladies trio + 2 men - sing all kinds of music but we have a love in our hearts for the 40’s style music. 

Because of our extensive repertoire of big band music, we had been invited to perform on the USS Yorktown for many years. Just the opportunity to perform on this aircraft carrier in front of their beautiful holiday-sized American flag was a treat for us.  

We were asked to perform for a huge corporate event and we were going to sing most of our usual World War II music. 

As most of you might know, this music can be very ‘wordy’ - VERY WORDY! And learning all the words can be very challenging. 

It seems like all of our songs were like that. But, that's OK, right? Because those challenges can help keep you sharp, keep you on your toes, and keep you young. I'll admit that hasn’t been easy for “the Glows +2.” 

Sometimes we had resorted to using cue cards, or “cheat sheets” as I call them, but that idea was not popular with me. It did become necessary if we had to learn a lot of new music for an upcoming show. In the meantime, we struggled to get away from the idea of cue cards. 

Anyway, back to this corporate event... 

We had added new numbers for this occasion and had rehearsed and rehearsed to make sure we had all the words and choreography as crisp and clean as we could get them for this new show. 

One thing about “the Glows” - we have been performing together for so long that if one of us loses our place in the music or forgets a word, each can turn to one of the others and be given that word or verse in that song. We can always tell if any one of us needs help. 

USS Yorktown - Performance Time: 

The show started. 

About halfway through this show, Ladonna was up for a solo. She had walked out stage front with Lynn and I behind her stage-right because we were singing backup on this particular number. 

This song started. 

And, Ladonna was singing with all her heart - interlude - and she started to sing the second verse. 

Well, at that point, somehow, she had forgotten all the words. 

Because of the confusion as to where she was in the song, she couldn't even repeat the first verse. 

Being as graceful and smooth as she could be, she turned around toward us, expecting one of us to help her out of this situation, only to receive a blank stare from me. This song was a new song and I had no idea what the words were.  Great help I was! 

As I was staring into her eyes that seemed to shout out to me: “Jeannie can't you help me out here?!?” 

At this point, all I could do was shrug my shoulders like, “You are on your own kid.” 

Well, LaDonna turned around toward the audience and with all the confidence she could muster got into the microphone as close as she could and started singing in a language that I had never heard before and hoped that I would never hear again. 

It was like she was speaking in tongues. 

Yes, my friends, she was speaking in tongues! 

Some of the sounds and tones that were coming out of her mouth were unrecognizable - they did not exist.  

Lynn and I were dumbfounded. We tried to add as much background vocal as we could. Did we help or do more harm? I'm not sure. 

I remember looking at the bewilderment in the faces of the people in the audience. 

Bewilderment - I'd say so. 

They were trying to figure it all out. Was there a problem with the microphone, with the background music, with... the who knows what? 

When the song was finished, she received a wonderful round of applause. 

She had performed with confidence. 

That was what our music mentor had taught us to do - to perform with confidence whether you know what you're doing or not. 

Perform with confidence! 

He used this story as an example. He was singing for a huge convention years ago and had rehearsed for months for his vocal presentation. When he got up to the mic, every word just left him except for the name of the song - “Sylvia.” He sang the first word Sylvia, and every word after that was Sylvia, Sylvia, Sylvia. He sang the whole song only singing the name of the song, “Sylvia.” He said after his performance the audience gave him a rousing round of applause. They loved his presentation and they never knew the difference! Why? Because he performed with confidence. 

Ladonna? She too had performed with confidence.  

Oh yes, now we always ask her to carry a CHEAT SHEET. 

Not going through that again - not even with confidence! 

~ Jeannie Joyner  

An (Extra) Ordinary Love

Depending on your age, the concept of celebrating an anniversary floods the senses with a myriad of images that range from the mundane to the ephemeral. Many well-known, overused phrases from the husband caught in that instant the wife asks, “Honey, what did you get me for our anniversary?” to the trend-setting, budget-busting, movie-scripted soiree talked about on the society pages for ages to come to the forefront of my mind.

The other side of the anniversary celebration deals with the original moment being celebrated and the person or persons involved. The common idea immediately brought to mind is a wedding celebration. So common is the theme that there are lists involved which tell us what the gifts for celebrating should represent. Silver, gold, and diamonds are the most obvious images that jump out. Paper, wood, and cotton don´t elicit shrieks of joy when the parties start for the first, fifth, and second commemorations when those get-togethers are held.

Wedding anniversaries are the most commonly celebrated, and they provide the benchmarks for all long-lived marriages, but they are not necessarily the most meaningful events that are cause for remembrance. Life has those moments that provide common ground for conversation amongst family and friends that sometimes make those special moments even more deeply felt.

I would suggest to those who know me and my lovely wife and our sons, that the heart and soul of any celebration here revolves around a profound understanding that none of the traditional themes enjoyed could be had without having made a conscious and very personal decision related to faith and spirituality. All the other decisions thus build on that foundation. Looking at life through that filter brings a

certain meaning to the most important decisions made after that. I, for one, am convinced that faith has painted our lives with brilliant and deeply saturated colors which make our celebrations more exciting and meaningful regardless of the theme or the number of years past.

So, you might be surprised to see the tears flow when invited to celebrate the day Jeannie and I met, or the day she said she would go steady, or the day we were married, or any of our birthdays (especially the boys), or the day John got his first pair of glasses, or Brandon graduated from kindergarten after learning to tie his shoes, or so on. A lot of love has been shared here by family and friends.

The memories from those years bring tears of joy as we light the candles on the cakes designed for the occasion at hand. Typically, we gather in a circle around the bar in the kitchen, share thoughts and jokes about the time gone by, and then a prayer of thanks for all those here and gone and the joy each brought. This year is our 53rd Anniversary and I am moved by the totality of the moments and the memories that have made those years so full. It is somewhat appropriate that all the charts claim paper as the representative image of this anniversary because this blog is my digital dissertation in its place. My wife and sons, our family and friends – these are the gifts that bring me the true feeling of blessedness one hopes for when celebrating all our special moments.

Yes, anniversaries around here are a big deal and so are the celebrations that go with them.

For those wondering – 73, 53, 50, and 40. Also – first Tuesday after Labor Day, December 22nd, and March 22nd.

Thanks, and praise for all those days.

~ David Joyner

Oh, Yes! They Call Him the Streak

My Mom and I were always close. She had such a sweet personality and that's why people liked to be around her. I was no exception and I tried to visit her every day – even if just for a few minutes.  

We would shop together, cook together, visit friends together, sew together, and definitely talk... talk... talk... together. 

She was a night-owl like me - or should I say – me, like her. She rarely went to bed before one or two in the morning and sometimes later than that.  

My mom was an excellent cook and my mouth still waters when I think about her rice and gravy (Mmmm!), fried chicken, fresh fried fish (caught and cleaned by my dad), pot roast with onions and carrots and potatoes (no one ever made it better), mac and cheese, and - oh yes - hot boiled peanuts (fresh green peanuts, boiled for hours to perfection). 

One balmy summer evening, we decided she would come to our apartment, make an evening of it, and boil a pot of peanuts. 

She came over around 11:30 that night and we pulled out a big ole pot, filled it with green peanuts, and started cooking them. We could hardly wait till they were finished.  

We lived in an apartment on the second floor with a door that led out to a back deck with a stairway that led down to the green area out back. Since it was such a beautiful evening, I decided to leave the sliding glass door open with the screen pulled closed but not locked - big mistake! 

Jeannie, what were you thinking? 

Obviously, I was NOT thinking! And so, thinking about it no more, I went back into the living room to join my mom. 

The peanuts had begun to boil so I decided to go give them a stir. I did this about every 30 minutes or so. 

I was standing at the stove facing the deck when something caught my attention out the corner of my eye. Not moving my head at all but just moving my eyes a little... to try to get a glimpse of whatever it was... 

I spotted something in the shadows. 

There, crouched down on the stairs, was a guy. And all I could see of him was a little of his face and the top of his head. 

At that point, I hadn't had time to take it all in. All I could think about doing was to carry on a conversation with my mom and also pretend there were lots of other people in the living room with her – both men and women.  

“Hey mom,” I said, “I need some of those strong men in there to come help me pick up this heavy pot of delicious peanuts!” 

I walked back into the living room to let my mom know what was really going on and to carry on a conversation with those “make-believe guests.” Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't come in the back door if he thought other people were there in the apartment. 

As I walked back into the kitchen, I saw him turn around and quietly tip-toe his way back down the steps. At that point, I scooted over to the sliding glass door, pulled it shut, and locked it. 

“Whew, I'm glad that worked,” I thought to myself. 

I went to the light switch and cut off all the lights in the kitchen and opened the window curtains. 

I saw him. 

He was walking away, cutting through hedges that were growing in between the two apartment buildings. 

There was a street light next to our building. He stepped out into the light. 

“Brave soul, wasn't he?” 

His attire left a little to be desired, for all he had on was a red plaid shirt. That was all - no shoes, no socks, no pants, no underwear! 

“Hmm... Wonder what he was planning?” I thought to myself. 

No, I did not call the police. Stupid? Yes! 

As I thought about the incident later, I should have done just that, because the police may have been able to catch him and possibly prevented the situation from occurring again. 

Hindsight is 20-20, right? 

My mom and I laughed about that “peeping Tom” memory for many years after. Thank goodness it turned out OK, but who knows what could have happened had he not decided to leave. 

Do I leave the backdoor open anymore? Not on your life! 

We still continued to boil peanuts together for years. I can still taste them - just enough salt and so tender they would melt in your mouth. Our old local icon, Tony the “peanut man,” had nothing on my Mom when it came to boiling peanuts. 

Who knows, Tony and Mom could be boiling peanuts in heaven together right now! 

~ Jeannie Joyner 

All the Wrong Moves

My father was a practical joker. If he had an opportunity to play a joke on someone, he would. I've already written blogs on some of the crazy shenanigans he has pulled! 

My mom would get so upset with him. 

But did he ever stop? Absolutely not!  

We lived in downtown Charleston close to King Street when I was in elementary school. My mom's best friend, Louise, came from a family of six girls. And when Louise’s younger sister, Annette, wanted to move to Charleston from Kingstree, S.C. - to get a job on King Street - it was suggested that she move in with us for a while to save money. It was settled. She would do just that.  

Annette got a job at one of the dime stores on King Street so all she had to do was walk a few blocks to work. 

At that time, the kinds of jobs that most of the young people would apply for during the summers or before they were getting ready to go off to college were at stores such as Woolworths, Kress, and Silver’s - small mini-department stores, predecessors of today’s Belk’s. 

Annette was a feisty, beautiful, young woman with long dark hair and had no problem attracting the opposite sex. She was fun-loving and she and my mom were always laughing and having a good ole time. 

Like I told you before, my dad was always up to no good; and with Annette living with us, that just gave him another person - another opportunity - to pull off one of his practical jokes. 

Annette had met this gorgeous, tall, blonde, blue-eyed hunk and he had asked her out on a date. Annette, playing hard to get, put him off for a while before she finally agreed to go on a date with him. 

Annette had come home from work to tell my dad that she had accepted a date with this guy. 

“Ed [as she always called my dad] I have a date on Saturday night at 7:00 o'clock. He's taking me to dinner,” she said. 

Big mistake!  

The wheels in my dad's head started turning. 

Saturday night rolled around and Annette had taken all afternoon to get ready for the date. And she really was excited! She had been thinking about it all week. 

7:00 P.M. rolled around - no date. 

7:05 P.M. - no date. Annette was a little antsy but maybe something had just delayed him. 

7:15 P.M. -- 7:30 P.M. -- 7:45 P.M. - by this time, she was boiling mad. 

“If he thinks he can stand me up like this, he's got another think coming.” 

And, my dad was just making everything worse by talking about how wrong it was for her date to stand her up like that. 

7:55 P.M. – knock, knock. 

“Ed,” Annette said to my dad. “Someone's at the door. Ed?” 

No answer from my dad. 

So, Annette had to go to the door. 

She flung the door open and there standing with the biggest grin that you ever saw was her date. 

He started to say how excited he was that she was going out with him. At that point, she slammed the door in his face so hard that the windows rattled. 

In that instant, we heard a little snickering of laughter coming from the entrance to my dad's bedroom. Annette turned around to look at my dad and at that point, he burst out laughing. 

 “Ed,” Annette shouted, “What did you do? What did you do?”  

He confessed to turning the clock back an hour, so in reality, this poor guy was really five minutes early for their date - not an hour late as Dad had led her to believe.  

By this time her face was beet red. 

“Oh, my goodness,” she said as she ran to the door. She threw it open and there standing just where she had left him was her date with the most puzzled look on his face that you had ever seen. 

She grabbed his arm, trying to pull him into the apartment, with him hesitating a little, not knowing what was going on... 

“Ed,” she exclaimed, “you tell him exactly what is going on - exactly what you did, or I'm going to kill you.” 

My dad came over to Annette’s date, shook his hand, and explained everything. At that time, we all had a good laugh. 

What a way to start a date. 

From then on when Annette had a date coming to our house to pick her up, she carried the clock around with her and never let it get out of her sight until time for her date to arrive. 

Would you EVER trust someone who did that to you? 

Who’s got the time?!? 

~ Jeannie Joyner 

You Will Get Wet On This Ride

Friendships are so important and true friends are really hard to find, especially ones that last a lifetime. We have friends who come and go – friends who are there for you in the good times, but as soon as things get unpleasant or complicated those “friends” disappear.

Reid has been our friend forever; through both the good and bad times! He was friends with my husband long before I came into the picture and has remained a dear friend all of our lives.

He’s always had such a sweet spirit and just so funny; always trying to make us laugh. Ever the jokester, he was always trying to get others to laugh and bring some joy. And we have had many laughs with him over the years and we pray we have many more.

I remember on one occasion we were at church preparing for the evening Christmas service when Reid showed up unexpectedly. David and I were quite involved with the preparations and Reid decided to entertain our son while we were doing so. John, our, then, 3-year-old son, is handicapped, and at that particular time, he had not begun to walk yet; so, he had to be carried everywhere.

Reid had picked John up and put him on his shoulders and had begun to hop up and down to make John laugh. John was just howling with laughter because he thought Reid was the funniest person he had ever met.

David, my husband, said, “Reid, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

Reid just ignored David as usual and kept jumping up and down. And, John just laughed and laughed louder and louder!

“Reid,” David said, “I REALLY don’t think you should be doing that.”

And, as usual, he didn’t pay any attention to David!

Then, all of a sudden, Reid stopped.

He looked at David, his eyes wide with disbelief!

“Uh-ooohhh,” Reid said. “There is something very warm running down my back!”

David and I burst out laughing.

David said, “I told you NOT to do that, Reid. Now, see what you have caused?!”

Reid grabbed John and set him on the floor!

“Oh, no!” Reid exclaimed. “He just wet all over my brand-new shirt!”

“Well,” David said, “You should have listened. I told you not to do that.”

I guess it wasn’t bad enough that John wet all over Reid...but he was wearing a brand-new brown velour shirt that he’d just gotten for Christmas! So much for that new shirt!!!

Even after all of that, we are still very good friends and when we get together, we all still laugh about that “memorable” day and many others.

“Keep smiling, keep shining,

Knowing you can always count on me, for sure.

That’s what friends are for.

For good times and bad times.

I’ll be on your side forever more.

That’s what FRIENDS ARE FOR!”

~ Jeannie Joyner

Touch-A-Touch-A-Touch-A-Touch Me

I have been singing with the wonderful trio of ladies called the “Glowettes” for many years. They are such supportive, kind, loving, steadfast friends and I feel very blessed to know them and to have been able to perform with them over the years.

We have had countless opportunities to sing for different occasions like military reunions, private parties, retirement facilities, churches, commercials, radio shows, and for about six years, toured with a roadshow. Sometimes we turned down a gig if we felt it wasn't right for us but we never wanted to miss an opportunity to sing in church whether it was our own church or another.

We have a vast number of stories to tell about the adventures of “us” to the point that we have even talked about writing a book. We just need to sit down and do it. As I sit here thinking about all of our escapades, one particular story pops into my head.

The “Glows” have always performed many genres of music - from country to big band, gospel, sacred, 40’s, and more - so it was not unusual for a church to invite us to do a secular concert. The church we had been invited to was a well-attended church. And, being the crazy girls that we are, we decided to change things up a bit to bring more laughter and audience participation in our concert. We had always thrown out glitter, candy, a little dance or whatever seemed to fit that performance.

We use our relationships with friends to make a connection to the audience but sometimes that connection is a little uncomfortable...

This particular concert we decided that we would invite men out of the audience to “sway” and sing a song with us that everyone knew. When this audience participation song came up, we left the stage, picked a partner, and headed back up to our places.

We took the time to instruct the guys on what they would be doing.

“So,” I said, “put your arms around our waist and when we sway to the right you sway to the right. Let's rehearse it, okay?”

That was the hardest thing to accomplish. I swayed to the right, he swayed to the left.

“Okay,” I said, “Let's try again.”

These guys couldn't grasp it so we decided to start the music and just go with it. Each guy got into the position and we were ready to perform.

The music started.

If you think it was easy trying to get guys to sway in the same direction while having their arms around your waist... then think again. It was like having ice skates on for the first time, trying to push off and getting nowhere cause the 200-pound dude ain't movin’!!!

By this time, I was laughing so hard tears were streaming down my face. If that wasn't bad enough, I stuck my mic up to my guy’s mouth so he could be heard singing instead of me. If you thought I was laughing, then you should have experienced what I heard coming out of his mouth. This guy - bless his heart - sounded like a wolf howling at the moon. He wasn't singing; he was bellowing.

I had lost all ability to sing.

As I glanced to my left, I realized my situation was minor compared to what my “Glow sisters” were experiencing.

One of the “Glows” was a little on the short side. When our audience participants were chosen, we had no idea how tall each one was. Unfortunately, the shortest “Glow” had chosen the tallest partner. As we sang and swayed, this gentleman's arms and hands were getting higher and higher till they were right under her arms and almost across her chest. She was trying to rectify the situation... but, one of her hands was holding the mic, one hand was trying to manipulate his arms back down from her yaboos to her waist while trying to get him to sing and at the same time sway in the right direction.

You can imagine how it looked to the audience because this gentleman had no clue what was happening. Let's face it... when his arm started sliding up... there was no stopping them! She must have felt like she was at the drive-in movie on a first date.

By this time, her chin rested on her bosom because of the tight grip he had on her. We were quite relieved when this number was over. The audience got a real chuckle out of all of it, especially the wives who allowed us to “borrow” their husbands.

Now we don't have to draw men from the audience as we have two of our very own who have joined the “Glows” permanently.

Some people say that church is boring, but it wasn’t that night! So, please remember, the next time that you go to a concert and the music touches you, that doesn’t give you permission to touch back...

As for now, we’ll keep singing... “Shine little glow worm - glimmer, glimmer.”

I Love a Parade

By the time my wife and I were joining our friends Lloyd and Mary Lou to drive to our one-and-only Rose Bowl Parade, a whole lifetime of experiences had been had. The 60s had been a real mix of events in rapid-fire occurrence.

I graduated high school in 1965 and entered the Citadel that fall. A freak accident ended my marching career there and led me to the Baptist College of Charleston where I enrolled in their Naval ROTC program with hopes that I would enter the service as an officer. We didn't expect the college to fall short of accreditation, which left the ROTC program, also without foundation.

My lovely wife and I said our vows in March of 1968 after I had completed Navy Bootcamp. I had come home with the expectation of active duty prior to that. I was finally notified to report on duty in San Diego, California in January of 1969. Tearful goodbyes and fears for my safety were part of my departure and flight from Charleston to San Diego, to San Francisco, to Honolulu, to Vietnam where I joined my ship in the Saigon Delta.

I expected to spend my 2-year requirement on board the USS Nueces - APB40. With one or two R and R’s, I would satisfy the active-duty portion of my contract, but fate being what it was, we cut our in-country tour short and headed for our new homeport.

The sail home began in July of 1969 moving from upriver to Vung Tau Harbor to Subic Bay in the Philippines and then across the South China Sea on to Yokosuka, Japan for servicing our power plants. After almost two months we sailed to Honolulu by way of Guam. We then set sail for San Francisco, but we were diverted to Long Beach after several conversations regarding where our group would find a final rest. We reached port in California late September of 1969.

Life as a bachelor was not my cup of tea, so I put together a lease plan that included an apartment off base and a flight home to retrieve my bride and our car filled with all we could carry. We headed west with well wishes from family and friends and concerns for our safety as we throw the “Southern route” across the country, which included the desert. Unfortunately, extra gas and water had no place in our two-door Chevy Nova, But, fortunately, they will not need it.

Our apartment lease allowed for the unknown tenure because we were decommissioning our ship. We began our stay in our new home in October of 1969. Our stay in Southern California was filled with special moments like our driving trips around Long Beach, Palo Alto, Los Angeles, and all the neighborhoods in between.

We made our one and only Disneyland trip in December of 1969 where we crossed paths with Mary Lou and Lloyd while scaring all the visitors within a hundred feet by screaming and shouting with joy. We became a foursome that enjoyed several road trips to locales as diverse as Tijuana, Mexico, and the San Diego Zoo.

We couldn't let her stay in Southern California go by without trying to satisfy our desire to see everything our time and budget would allow. If you come as no surprise then that the New Year celebration at Mary Lou and Lloyd’s apartment would go into the wee hours of the morning of January 1st, 1970. What else would make the party more memorable as the other guests left around 3 AM? Why, a trip to Pasadena to see the Rose Bowl Parade, of course!

We piled into our Nova, with its large back seat and almost as large front seat, and headed north to find the perfect spot along the parade route. There was no GPS to keep us from getting lost or to help us find the shortest route there. After about one and a half hours, we found a parking space just one block off the main street for the parade and immediately went to claim our place on the sidewalk to be assured of a viewing point. We quickly found out that even though the temperature was in the 60s, it was too cold to stay there from around 4 a.m. till 8 a.m. when the parade started.

We slept in the car till just before the parade began and rushed to reclaim our places. It very quickly became clear that we were part of an event that dwarfed anything that we had ever participated in. It was all we ever dreamed it would be. Our in-person experience was an intense dose of sight, sound, and smell. It was impossible to see all parts of the floats or hear all the instruments in the bands, nor smell every flower that was part of the parade.

Standing on the sidewalk in the throng of people watching the beauty of so many different creations, experiencing the sensations and filling our hearts with incredible joy. There's no way to compare a televised, homebound experience with the reality of being there.

A once in a lifetime event with my once for a lifetime partner.

~ David Joyner

Sock It To Me!

I've always tried to pick out special items to give my friends and family at Christmas. I'll admit it isn't always easy. Let's take, for instance, my sons. They're both into music and movies. I would never be able to select either of these for my sons. We’re talking about thousands and thousands of movies; thousands of CDs. If I need a movie or a CD, I just ask and they loan them to me.  

So, when someone studies another person enough to know what they might want or need for Christmas and then makes a purchase of that special item for them, then that person really feels loved.  

Let's face it - that's not always easy.  

So many of my friends and family have just about everything that they want or need. Like one of my dear, dear friends said when I asked him what he wanted for Christmas, “Only give me something I could eat or drink.” Now that's easy shopping, isn't it?  

By this time in our lives, we want to be getting rid of our baggage, not collecting more.  

Early in my marriage, I tried not to make a difference between my mom and my mother-in-law when it came to exchanging gifts. If I made my mom a dress, I made my mother-in-law a dress. My mother was always so gracious when I gave her ANYTHING! My mother-in-law – well, let's just say I could not always read her quite as easily as I could read my mother.  

Except when she was aggravated with me - which seemed to be quite often.  

This particular Christmas, we had joined my in-laws at their house for Christmas dinner and after our delicious feast, we gathered in the living room to exchange gifts! Everyone quickly tore into each gift with so much excitement, wrapping paper flew everywhere. Everyone was almost finished and was curled up in a comfy chair thinking we were finished. 

I really didn't care that no present was passed to me because my mother-in-law and I had very different tastes. Then a small package was handed to me. “Oh,” I thought, "I was remembered.” I open my “present” to reveal... a pair of socks. 

And they weren't even pretty socks.  

The room was quiet with most eyes on me. “Well, thank you so much,” I said as I really didn't know how else to respond. It was one of those times when you know you had been set up and my response was really important at that moment. I also knew and that for whatever reason my mother-in-law was upset with me for some reason and this was her way to get back at me.  

Talking about uncomfortable, I was!  

We sat around with the rest of the family for a few hours, gathered up our gifts, exchange goodbyes and headed home.  

Our trip on the way home—you could have heard a pin drop and finally, David broke the silence and said, “I don't know what gets into her.” I just shrug my shoulders because I didn't know what to say. Imagine me not knowing what to say! Haha!  

No, I did not give her a pair of socks the next Christmas! I still tried to make it special for her. And I'm glad I did. It would have been petty on my part if I had responded any other way.  

Let's always remember what's really important during the holidays. Things may not always go as planned but sometimes we have to make the best of a bad situation. Like Judy Carne from Laugh-In used to say... 

Sock-It-To-Me! 

Sock-It-To-Me! 

Sock-It-To-Me! 

~ Jeannie Joyner

Christmas With the Cranks

Isn't it nice to be able to gather around the table on a holiday, share favorite foods, but also share wonderful memories, and to spend time with all the people we love most?

Fellowship with family and friends - how I look forward to those times and our gatherings at Christmas - are my favorite. The presents are nice but - ahhh - the food! If I never received another present - the food is present enough!

Our guests are really great cooks. Turkey and dressing, mac and cheese, rice and gravy, banana pudding, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie... to name a few!

Makes your mouth water, doesn't it?

Which brings me to the point of this blog.

It was Christmas and we had invited all our besties to help celebrate. All the food and desserts for placed on the island so we could all “help ourselves.” Everyone had brought so much food that all the dishes couldn't fit on the island so we had to put some items on the countertops.

Can you imagine?

We said grace and everyone was told to go through the line, help themselves, find a seat – and EAT! The aroma from all the homemade foods permeated the air and we could not wait to indulge!

We have waited for this all year, right?

We were all seated around the table when we spotted a white car pulling up out front. We all watched as three people got out of the car, collected their many dishes of food and presents, and started walking toward our house. Everyone at the table looked at each other and someone said, “Who are those people? We thought everyone was already here.”

“I have no idea who those people are,” I said.

Then, we heard someone open the front door and walk in.

“Okay,” I thought to myself, “I must be wrong since they hadn't rung the doorbell and were walking right inside!” We all turned around toward the foyer. We were staring into the faces of three people who had never seen before. We all stared, frozen. Then my husband stood up and greeted them, “Hey, guys. Come on in!”

One of them said, “Oh, I think we're in the wrong house. We were looking for a white house, spotted this one and thought we were at the right one.”

My husband said, “Well there's another white house about three houses down on the same side of the street. That must be the one you are looking for, but you are welcome to stay and share our meal because your food smells mighty good.”

We all laughed. We laughed and laughed about our “unexpected” guests and how the expressions on their faces were priceless as they realized they had just walked into a total strangers’ home. But, we could all see how embarrassed they were. They said that they thought they would head on down the street to the correct house cause their family would be waiting for them, but thanks for the invite.

They took the food and presents, packed them up again in the car, and drove on down to the next white house. When they left, we figured it all out - we had just had our house painted – WHITE! That's the reason they were confused about which house to go to. After all, what more could we have asked for then to celebrate it with our loved ones... and maybe a few extra “unexpected” guests?

~ Jeannie Joyner

My Old China

Do you have “keepsakes” from your grandparents, parents, children, etc?

Some people may think it's silly to say things like a special outfit your baby wore home from the hospital, a ring that belonged to your mother, a pair of glasses that belong to your grandfather. I never had many items that were passed down from one generation to the next, but the few that I managed to save are precious to me. I keep them tucked away to keep them safe.

When I was about three years old, my grandfather remarried a short while after the death of my grandmother. My father was not excited about the marriage and, according to him, my new step-grandmother was only after my grandfather’s money.

You've heard the expression, “the proof is in the pudding?” Well, my grandfather and “new” grandmother had only been married a short while when my grandfather passed away.

As a little one, I really had no real understanding of all that was involved in the settlement of his estate. The only thing I did know, a little later, was that my step-grandmother took everything, giving nothing to my father and siblings, but distributing all to her children, who were grown, and had never actually lived in the house with my grandfather.

Yes, you can get angry if you want because it was unfair. But life isn't fair, is it?

Somehow my father managed to acquire five plates from some that my grandmother had in her kitchen. How he got them I will never know. Maybe from one of his brothers or his sister. They were not expensive; they were everyday dishes. No information was printed on the bottom, only “USA.” They had a lot of porcelain cracking in the plates and a lot of the gold banding was wearing off along the edges, but I love them - so when my parents passed away, the plates were one of the few things that remained - so I acquired them.

I was always looking in thrift shops, antique shops, estate sales, anywhere I thought I could find a piece to add to my “five precious pieces!” I found a serving bowl at a vintage shop, another piece was found in an antique mall in Gatlinburg, TN. My collection was slowly coming together, but all this at this rate, it was going to take years to complete.

Then one day, my husband, two of my best friends, and friends visiting from Wales decided to go antiquing. We walked into a well-known antique shop in the Charleston area and decided to go straight to the back and work our way forward. My friend, Lois, came over to where I was browsing and said, “Jeannie, you’ve got to get over here right now. I think I found your grandmother's dishes!”

I thought she meant that she had found a piece or two.

WRONG!

We went over to the area in the back of the store and on the shelf were about sixty-two pieces of the most beautiful dishes I had ever seen.

“I can't believe it,” I said to Lois. “Surely this can't be the right price for all these!”

So, I ran to the front of the store where my husband was and excitedly, I blurted out. “David, you've got to come see this. I think we’ve found my grandmother's pattern on some dishes!”

He grabbed my arm, pulled me aside, and said, “Jeannie, you've got to stop acting so excited about the dishes. I'll never be able to convince the owner to give me a better price if we decide to buy them.”

“Ha!” I thought to myself, “If you think I'm going to leave here without these dishes, think again.” I didn't care how much they cost.

We told the lady that we may be interested in purchasing the dishes, she walked to the back of the store, removed the ticket, and brought it up to the front. At that time, she told us that the dishes had been mismarked and that they should be a lot more expensive.

I'm sure the expression on my face was one of real disappointment!

Then she said, “I'll have to sell them to you at that price because it was how they were marked.”

Inside I was jumping for joy. Yes! All I could do was grin from ear to ear as I thanked the lady over and over again.

I invited my old friends and my new friends from Wales over for dinner and happily displayed my new “old” dishes. It felt wonderful to fellowship with friends and to know that they had helped me find my treasured dishes because if my friends had not suggested that we go antiquing, I never would have found those dishes.

Wasn't it something that after years of collecting one piece at a time, I found almost a complete set right here under my nose, here in Charleston? Did I say, “HERE IN CHARLESTON?!” I've often wondered if these were the actual dishes that my grandmother had owned & had used every day when my father was a child. I like to think they were. At least I know I have five plates that belonged to her.

All I can say is don't give up on your dreams, even if it's something as small as a set of dishes. It made me so happy to find them and so happy every time I set them out on our dinner table. I really do think the food tastes better served up on these new “old” dishes. Are you hungry?

~ Jeannie Joyner

Strip, Tease

I love to be around people who make me laugh, people who are happy, people who are positive thinkers, people who look for the best in others. I've been very blessed with my wonderful family and circle of friends who are there for me when I have a “not so great moment.”

When I had a friend who was celebrating a birthday, the wheels in my head started turning! What can I do to make his birthday “something to remember?”

This friend was an organist in a fairly large church and the organ that he played every Sunday was right up front in this church -- and very visible!

“Hmmm...,” I thought to myself, “how can I use this?”

My family had just moved into a larger house and there was a room in the new house that we had never been in because the handle had been removed from the door. We were told that renovations were going on in this room so we didn't think much more about it.

BIG MISTAKE!!!

After we moved into the house, my husband collected his tools so he could open the door. Once we were in the room we discovered that the teenager living in that room had trashed it. Without going into great detail, we discovered that this stranger that this teenager had collected a large stack of Playboy magazines! I know... I know... He only read the articles. That's when the idea for a memorable birthday came to me.

I collected my art supplies, took one of the Playboy magazines and went to work.

Fast forward to Sunday morning. I left the choir room where the choir was rehearsing for the 11 AM service, scooted over to the sanctuary and placed the birthday card that I had meticulously created out of the Playboy centerfold right on top of his music so he could not possibly miss it.

The choir filed in, myself included, and the director seated us. The choir director sat down on the organ bench, spotted the card and smiled.

He opened it!

He slammed it shut!

He sat for a moment to think through what had just happened.

He slowly turned on the piano bench until he spotted me.

“How did he know?” I was thinking.

Our eyes met.

His eyes widened.

I grinned.

He knew.

It was all I could do to compose myself... for you see his wife was my best friend and she was sitting right next to me and observed all that had transpired! She was laughing uncontrollably (to herself) till her chair was shaking.

He carefully removed his “most memorable birthday card EVER,” placed it on the bench beside him, opened the music for the anthem, stood the choir, and continued on with the service.

Yes, I'm still alive.

Yes, I still sing in the choir.

Yes, we are still friends -- although now I think he checks his music very carefully before our Sunday services.

What are friends for if we can’t bring a little joy to someone else's life. I have noticed that he doesn't remind me anymore of his upcoming birthdays!

Wonder why?

~ Jeannie Joyner

The Ghost Whisperer

Who you going to call?

That's right! Who ARE you going to call when one has an encounter with a ghost, a spirit, the supernatural? I suppose if someone has never had an encounter with one of these, then it might be difficult to believe. Let me tell you about a couple of my experiences with “Casper.”

One of the theaters where I had worked was well known for its ghosts. Most workers would not work in the theater alone and most would leave around 5 p.m. unless rehearsals were in full swing. I usually worked crazy hours way into the night. That was a great time for me ‘cause no one was there to bother me – or so I thought...

This particular night I was on the second floor of the costume facility far removed from everyone or anything. My husband did not want me to work alone in this large facility so he would get comfortable in a cozy chair downstairs and sleep until I was ready to go home... usually, about 2 am.

One evening, while I was going through a section of vintage costumes looking for something from the 50s, I was mesmerized by all of the “one-of-a-kind" runway dresses that I was finding. I had struck gold as far as I was concerned, and I wasn't paying any attention to anything around me. I was happy, happy, happy!

"Jeannie!” someone said.

“Yes...?” I answered as I thought for sure that I had heard someone call my name.

“Goodness! I must have imagined that,” I thought to myself.

"Jeannie!” someone said again.

"What?!” I blurted out. “Who is that?” I asked.

Again... nothing.

“You really are tired, girl. You need to go home and rest!” I said to myself.

"Jeannie...” the voice whispered this time.

“Oh, I really must be going crazy,” I said out loud. “OK. Okay, I hear you. What do you want? I'm not scared of you so if you want to talk, we can.”

So, I carried on a conversation with “Casper.” It didn't seem like it was there to hurt me or to really scare me. Maybe no one else had actually stuck around long enough to talk.

Anyway, as the night went on, I heard from the very back of the costume facility, on the same aisle that I was working, footsteps that started running from the very back wall, passing right behind me and abruptly stopping right in front of the windows about 10 feet on the other side of me.

All this while whispering... “Jeannie...”

“Okay,” I said to myself. “That's just weird! But if you are lonely, I'm here to talk so.” So, I continue to talk to “my friend. “

When I was finished working with the costumes, I went downstairs to collect my husband and let him know I was ready to leave.

“Did you happen to hear anything or any conversation I was having?” I asked.

“No,” he said, “I was sound asleep!”

I realized that I would have had to be screaming at the top of my lungs for him to hear me from that far away.

I had a number of encounters with the “Friendly Ghost” in the theater. And, no, I was never scared and, no, I never felt threatened.

Another evening, I had a few interns working with me on a show and as usual we worked into the night. We had discussed the ghost in the theater before and they were intrigued by all of it. Some had witnessed “ghostly activities,” while others had not.

As we were leaving the theater, one of the interns pulled out a camera turned around and snapped a picture of the second story window. You might be surprised, there in the window was a figure all in white. It looked like a female. The theater was empty. And yet... they still have that picture!

Spooky, huh?

I could go on and on about the encounters that took place in this building. Can you imagine all of the characters who have passed through these theater halls and walls– all the stories THEY could tell! I am so thankful that I had the opportunity to EXPERIENCE some of them. The opportunity to TELL about some of these. After all, who said all the experiences with ghosts have to be scary?

I did get my chance to meet “Casper” and he was friendly!

~ Jeannie Joyner

Treehouse of Horror

I saw a little ghost.  

He saw me too.  

I said, “Hi.” 

And he said, “Boo!” 

This is this was how I felt on a clear, crisp, chilly (I mean COLD!) evening just before sunset. I didn't believe in ghosts but I guess at 8 years old, I never gave it much thought.  

My dad was a tease, prankster, a kidder. My mom on the other hand, not so much. She would always fuss at my dad if he played a joke on anyone... Especially me.  

I remember one evening. I had invited a friend over to watch television. That was special—but remember—back in ancient times, when you invited someone over to watch television, you watched it in the living room, WITH YOUR PARENTS, and you watched whatever they wanted to watch.  

After a while my father left the room and I didn't think much about it. My friend and I were sitting together on our living room couch right in front of a big picture window. We were thoroughly involved in what we were watching when all of a sudden, we heard a tapping on the window behind our heads. 

We both whirled around in our seats only to be staring into this horrible, ugly, distorted face of “something!” We screamed one of those “blood-curdling” screams that could have shattered all the windows.  

(You know how little girls can scream—EEEEEeeeeeek!)  

At that moment my mother who realized what was actually happening, yelled out, “Frankie, stop that right this minute. You are going to give those girls nightmares!” 

And with that, he jerked off the ladies' hose that he had so carefully pulled over his head, to reveal himself to us. To this day, I still have a clear picture of what he looked like with his face all squished and disfigured in the ladies’ stocking – and it wasn't purdy!  

The same little girl invited me over to her house not long after this episode. Can you imagine her parents letting her continue to play with me? But she never told them.  

Anyway, we lived on an oval “cul-de-sac" area with apartment buildings all around the outside of the oval – all facing the oval in the middle of the oval was grass where all the kids would play. It could not have been a better setup for the kids in the 50s—the 1950s not the 1850s!  

I was briskly walking over to her house when I spotted something out of the corner of my eye.  

“Oh, my goodness,” I frantically said to myself. “There is a ghost coming after me!” 

With my heart pounding in my chest, my feet started running. I ran into the apartment building up to the second floor.  

Safe!  

I was safe for the moment. The ghost wouldn't dare come into the building with all the light all the bright lights. So, I'm okay for now!  

We played until her mom said it was time for her bed.  

“Oh no,” I thought, “What if the ghost is waiting for me outside?” 

The only thing I could do was to run as fast as I could to my house and never look back. 

That's exactly what I did. 

I ran in to my apartment and slammed the door behind me—just in case that ghost was running right behind me.  

“Whew! I made it,” I said to myself, never saying a word to anyone about what had just happened. 

Next morning, all I could think about was the ghost that was haunting me. I had to get up enough nerve to peek out the window to see if he was still waiting for me.  

“Well, what do you know!” I said. The ghost was still in the yard, still in the very same spot, still watching me. He hadn’t moved all night long.  

“Who is that man walking over to the ghost?” I thought, “He must be very brave.”  

He was grabbing at the ghost.  

Why was he doing that?  

So, with one good yank, the white cloth covering came off in his hands. He folded it, walked over to the shed and put it away.  

Oh... it wasn't a ghost at all. I had nothing to be afraid of, right? It was a small tree that was covered to keep the frost from killing the new growth. That new growth almost killed me.  

As children, our imaginations can really “run wild,” can't they? 

I still love sharing the stories of my youth whether the stories are happy, sad or scary. And I hope that you have tails that you can share with your family and friends—whomever is willing to sit and listen for a moment.  

Come into my parlor... Shall we have a glass of wine and sit and chat for a while? 

Devil Or Angel?

Like most of my friends know, I have been sewing most of my life and I love it. My mom didn't own a sewing machine but she could sew “by hand’ with the best of them. She designed a can and constructed all of my doll clothes and I watched as she meticulously sewed each piece.  

When I was in eighth grade the opportunity for me to take home a home economics class came along.  

“Oh my... How could I pass this up?” I thought. But not having a sewing machine at home for me to practice on was really going to be a problem. My dear, sweet Aunt Esther heard me talking about it and told me she had a sewing machine in her attic and I was welcome to go up there and use this machine whenever I needed to practice.  

So there!  

Problem solved.  

“New clothes for me!” I thought.  

So as soon as I finished my first project in class (and we all know the project was an apron, gathered, with a wide waistband) I was off to the fabric store for a pattern and fabric so I could make my first outfit! The more difficult the pattern, the better... I wanted to learn it all!  

Whenever I could get a little money, I would head to the store for fabric. I ended up making most of my clothes in high school.  

Jump Ahead.  

Married.  

Still sewing but now sewing for home and for my boys. Picking out fabric for little boys' clothes, designing, smocking, and sewing appliques was so much fun for me. And when it came to Halloween costumes, I never bought a “ready-made” one. I enjoyed thinking up ideas and constructing them.  

John was everything from Zorro to Captain America and even Gene Simmons from Kiss. But when Brandon came along, I tried to make costumes that were similar like Batman and Robin, Pinocchio and Jiminy Cricket and Sesame Street characters. I had sewed the Pinocchio costume for John and was very satisfied with the results. Now I was working on Jiminy Cricket for Brandon. The top hat was a stinker to make but I did get it finished and thought Brandon looked especially adorable in the little gray coat and tails.  

We were getting ready to go out for trick-or-treat and Brandon was in a “poopy” mood and refused to put on the green face makeup. No green face for him. He wasn't going to put green makeup on no matter what I said so we headed out to trick or treat. I just knew everyone would know that be was Jiminy Cricket even without the makeup because John was obviously Pinocchio!  

The first house we came to I was totally insulted because they thought John and Brandon were Pinocchio and W.C. Fields!  

What?  

Are you kidding me?  

How could they think that I would dare dress my little boy like WC Fields??? You know, without the green makeup he did look like W.C. Fields! 

Another year, I decided to dress my boys up as a devil and an angel. So, I busily constructed the red devil costume with horns, long tail and a pitchfork. The angel costume had a long white gown (with glitter on it, of course) and a sparkly halo. I thought they were perfect.  

We hopped in the car to go out for the evening.  

Our Halloween evenings were just a little different because we didn't trick or treat door to door-- we went by car to visit close friends and family. We got out of the car, walked up to the front door and when they spotted John and Brandon blurted out, “Don't you have those costumes backwards? Shouldn't John be the angel and Brandon be the devil?” 

Everyone burst out laughing because we all knew it was true!  

Need I say more?  

Sometimes you think you hit a homerun and then you realize you just struck out! It just took someone else to point it out!  

So... Who's the devil? Who's the angel? 

They’re Gonna Put Me in the Movies

When our family was participating in lots of extras work in the movies, we got a call from the casting director wanting Brandon to audition for an upcoming movie being shot in the area. It was a role playing the part of Timothy Hutton’s character as a child.  

Simple enough, right?  

Not so simple as far as Brandon was concerned.  

I told Brandon about the call and when he was supposed to audition. “Ha!” He's more interested in playing with his friends so this was going to be an inconvenience to him.  

“Ah-ha!” I thought.  

Bribe him! 

“Brandon,” I said, “if you go to the audition for this role, I'll take you to McDonald's for a Happy Meal and prize!”  

BINGO! It worked.  

So, AFTER the visit to McDonald's and carrying the prized toy with him to the audition, we were very successful. He received a “call back.” Now we were told he needed to be able to play the piano or at least look like he could play it. 

Bummer!  

The only instrument he had ever thought about playing was the viola. He hated practicing so need I say more?  

We drove downtown for the re-audition and he was called into an area where the piano was set up so he could exhibit his piano playing skills. He was in the audition for a few minutes and was escorted out to join us in the holding area. I was waiting for someone to say, “so long, farewell, aufedersehen, adieu,” because his piano skills were non-existent.  

We were told that he had a wonderful audition and that he did great on the piano.  

What?  

David and I just looked at each other thinking they must be talking about some other kid. We ask Brandon how he could play the piano when he had never had a lesson and to our surprise he said, “I watch John, Mama.” Brandon had been standing by the keyboard when John had his lessons and Brandon had picked up enough from watching John that he was able to pretend that he could play.  

Who knew?  

From that audition he got another call back. This time it was to check to see how close he looked the part and to see how well he did on screen.  

Again, according to the assistant, he did great.  

Another “call back.” 

No more bribes with McDonalds. He was enjoying this.  

He began to recognize some of the people and they him. This time they were checking facial characteristics and coloring. One more addition down. Casting took a few days to make a formal decision. They called to let us know that it had been narrowed down to three children. The child they would select needed to have brown hair.   

“Brandon’s hair can be dyed, right?” they said. We said it would be no problem.  

When it came to his eyebrows, they were so white you couldn’t see them-- they would have to be dyed as well. Because they preferred not to take that risk around his eyes, they thought it best to go with one of the other two children. 

We broke the news to Brandon thinking he would be upset. Not so!  

“Okay,” Brandon replied as he was grabbing a toy and running out the door to join his friends.  

“Well, that was easy,” I thought. I just knew he was going to feel upset & rejected. We had always explained to him that he got the role great and if not so what. You never knew exactly what the directors were looking for.  

As I looked out the window and witnessed him running over to join his friends on the front yard, I knew why he was not upset. They were all happy just to be together and to be able to spend the day together. He had spent many days going back and forth to auditions and even though he really enjoyed it, he was really ready to spend time with his friends.  

Which would you choose?  

Being cooped up shooting a movie? Or running, jumping and laughing in the warm sunshine with your besties? After all, they could all play with the collection of toys from McDonald's Happy Meals!  

Notice that I said: “Collection!”