She's Sherrie

Wild Turkey Meanwhile, back at the dinner table, Steve's stepdad made his rounds with the crescent rolls. When he came to me, I just shook my head no and waved him off, acting like I had food in my mouth.  He told Steve to hand him my plate.  I know my eyes were huge with fear. I grabbed the plate and covered it, and said I just could not eat another roll.  He sat down.  I was eating slowly as I often do, chewing and concentrating on what I was doing.  Before I knew it, I caught a glimpse of something scarlet-colored hitting the table. I looked over, and right between Steve and Gail was a big blob of cranberry sauce.  And then everyone started laughing except me.  I just sat with a stupid but relieved grin on my face.  I didn't get it, they were all laughing, nobody was mad. Steve and Gail were accusing each other of making the mess.  I just sat there.  Waiting.  And then I got the explanation.  Ron, Steve, and Gail were trying to set me up and make me nervous enough to s

Wild Turkey I've been through many Thanksgiving Days in my life, some good, some bad, some funny, some sad.  I know you probably have too.  At the age I am right now, many of the people I shared those times with are no longer here.  All I have left of them are memories, good, bad, or indifferent.  It gives me something to hold onto during the times that I have alone during the holiday season. The earliest time that I was ever really aware of what the day meant was in first grade.  You know the spiel, Plymouth Rock, pilgrims, Indians, back before the time of political correctness, sharing food and being thankful way back before we stole the country from the "red" people and forced them onto reservations.  Yes, in first grade, you only learned the friendly version of history. I remember tracing my hand on a paper plate and making a turkey out of it.  As a class, we made our turkeys and took them home for decorations to be placed proudly on the fridge.  Except mine n

Halloween Old School Yes, it was a long time ago and far away.  But I remember it clearly because it was the first time I was allowed to participate, to actually go out and search for gold, candy.  And my favorite person, my Uncle Jerry, was my adult supervision. I lived in Falls Church, Virginia, a very quaint community about 15 miles from Washington, D.C.  There were tons of kids in the area, and I had watched them Trick or Treating through my living room window for years. Sigh.  My brother always got to go, and I was always left behind.  No candy for me because he was a greedy kid who wasn't giving it up.  In fact, he would eat it in front of me and describe how good it was. Then he would tease me and ask if I wanted some. Of course, I did. He said I had to ask him nicely, which of course I did.  I even lowered myself to begging with the "pretty please," followed by tears of anger and frustration.  The pig never gave it up.  But this year would be different. Ba

Photogenic Kay Well, here it is, 2020 already. I wrote this for Kay in 2017, hoping she might read it. She had been very ill for some time, but I could not confirm any details until recently. Unfortunately, Kay passed away last January from complications of diabetes. I had been searching for information about her without any luck. Last month, I had a temporary gig as an admin for a Facebook group for former Bell System employees.  I found her name on some information that had not been posted promptly.  One of my friends was kind enough to forward her obituary to me. When you read her obituary, you will see how artistic and talented and loved she was. She was a slow burner; it took Kay years to find true happiness and love, but on the way, she endeared herself to us by making us laugh, helping us if we needed it, and watching her grow. She loved and was loved. About our Kay. When I started working in the Business Office, I met and became friends with many great people.  

I voted in every election.  I have paid taxes most of my life. I have given money to the needy over the years. My family members have participated in every war since the Civil War.  I raised my children to become responsible and sensitive to others. I took care of my son and my mother when they were dying. Now I am retired, living on one small income. I am in reasonably good health, but I worry about how I will pay the co-pays and out of pocket expenses when I'm not.  I do not go to the doctor when I should. I see the middle-class people and poor, disabled, and elderly struggling every day.  I see people lined up at churches waiting for a small monthly amount of food from the food bank.  Not enough food for a month, but maybe a week. I see elderly, sickly people in front of me in the grocery line paying for whatever tiny amount of food they can get from their 16.00 food stamp allotment,  which seems to be the standard amount for a single person. I see people sl

Let's talk about the elephant in the room, the classroom.  The elephant's name is Sales.  The most difficult part of training is learning about all of the equipment.  Not just the official name and official color, but the USOC, the Universal Service Order Code.   Every item and color and style, shape, or size had a specific code recognized universally in any of the Bell System and AT&T systems. Before we could add any equipment to any customer request, we had to learn all the codes.  Remember, we had a form that we wrote everything on during a conversation.  We had to order it in technical language for time constraints and getting the order transmitted from our hands to the customer's home.  An old ugly yellow dial desk phone was an EXTYC, translation; a yellow extension rotary dial desk phone.  We had to remember all of the codes and the features and benefits of each item.  We practiced over and over, writing fake orders, on fake phone calls, with fake people. On

That picture of the phone over there to the left is a modern version of the phones on every desk in the business office.  A dinosaur even for that period.  Rotary dial.  Olive green.  Old as PA Bell.  I had touchtone phones in my apartment in 1965 in the Washington DC area.  Maybe Dallas was just a little slow to get the technology. Also, notice there is no headset attached to it.  We were on the phones eight hours a day, holding the phone on our necks crooked to one side to keep our hands free to write and file documents while we talked.  Only one person in the office had a headset.  That was Jane, a Liza Mannelli look-alike who had obtained special medical permission from The Surgeon General or Dr. Nick or Doctor Bell, some special doctor.  The rest of us had to suffer a few years until someone decided they could get more work out of us if we had headsets.  Oh, and maybe we wouldn't need so many green pills for our headaches and sore necks. I have already described how we