Tag: story

Gift Advice for Men

.Reading time 5 minutes.
Timeless advice from George Lee’s monthly feature in the Portsong Guardian, circa 1926
.Christmas woman

I shouldn’t assume that all you men realize Christmas is upon us.  It is hunting season in some places and we tend to be a distracted group.  Therefore, I will begin by making two statements to you men who have wives, fiancées, or girlfriends:

First:  Christmas is in two weeks.

Second:  You are expected to get something for her.

Now that we’ve passed the obvious, let’s talk a little about the word “something”.  It can be a tricky word.  Do not substitute “anything” for it, anything won’t do.  She is expecting something special, something that says you know her, her dreams, and her desires better than anyone else on the planet.  Are you scared yet?  If not, hand her a can of motor oil or a pack of playing cards on Christmas morn and watch the sparks fly!  Here are some friendly reminders of things that will NOT promise satisfaction and smooth sailing on Christmas morning:

1.         Anything that is for “us”.  If it is for “us”, it is really for you.  Rule of thumb:  if you will touch, watch, listen to, or carry it more than 15% of the time, it is for you not her.

2.         Anything automobile related.  Give her car wax or leather cleaner and get ready to sleep in the back seat of your beloved motorcar for a few days.

3.         Things intended to make her homemaking job easier.  This includes kitchen and cleaning items.  Again, see point 1, these things are for you – to make you more food or a tidier home.  Either that or they say she isn’t doing a good job and needs help.

4.         Items of clothing that are not her style, but looked good on a model or advertisement.  In fact, unless you are absolutely, 100% sure of the size, stay away from clothing altogether.  I’ve heard horror stories about men who gave their size 4 wives a size 8 dress and left the hospital sometime after New Year’s Day.

5.         Gag gifts.  Jokes are funny on April first, but not on Christmas.  I made this mistake with Harriet once early in our marriage.  When they wired our house for electricity, I found she often left lights on.  So I thought it would be humorous to give her a light switch with a chain for a necklace.  It didn’t work as a present or a reminder.  Needless to say, I never ventured down that path again.

6.         Anything found near the register at the store.  She goes there, she’ll know.  Those are called impulse items and she won’t have an impulse to kiss you any time soon.

7.         Be wary of things that plug in.  I’m from a bygone generation, but I thought a new radio was a stellar gift for Harriet one year.  I listened to it alone until June and she still curls her nose up a little every time I click on the The J.W. Terwiliger Hour of Talent.

I suppose the best way to decide on a gift for her is to watch and listen to her, not to that inner voice that says you can finish this shopping thing quickly and be before kick-off.  Games will always be there, will she?

George Lee is the resident Sage of Portsong, husband to Harriet and father of Dorothy, Henry, and Sally.  Folks from all over town stop by Greynote Insurance to get his advice.  If you’re in need of a word of wisdom, or term life coverage, feel free to stop by his office at the corner of Maple & Harvey Street for whichever type of quote suits you.

The Lamest Thanksgiving Parade

.Reading time 5 minutes.

Turkey cart

“Come, Come,” called Mayor Earnest Shambley over the chatter.  “The reason I’ve called you here today is to unveil my latest plan to put Portsong on the map!  As you know, I’ve got relatives in New York…”

“Yes, Mayor,” interrupted Ms. Prattlematt quickly.  “We are all most certainly aware of that fact and have already forgiven you for it.”

The Mayor glared at the lady, took a moment to calm himself, and continued, “I am not asking for forgiveness.  I mention the fact only for a point of clarity.  I was talking to my kin recently and he told me that a local department store has come up with the idea of having a parade on Thanksgiving Day!”

“Parades are marvelous things, but who has time for such frivolous behavior with all of the preparation Thanksgiving demands?” chimed Ms. Prattlematt, dashing the Mayor’s excitement for a brief moment.

“Who wouldn’t have time?” he asked.  “Floats, balloons for the children, animals, marching bands!  It would be a regular jim-dandy of a time right on our own Main Street.  I can see it now – people would come from all over the southeast – Savannah, Charlotte, Macon, even Atlanta!  They’d all come here, to Portsong… and bring their money with them.  That wouldn’t be too shabby would it, Woodrow?”

The proprietor of Woodrow’s Five & Dime hadn’t been listening and was quite glad when another member of the council stood up and spoke.

“If that’s all you called us here for, I’m leaving,” said Percy Radford in disgust.  “I’ve got a business to run.  You and your schemes! Ms. Prattlematt, if you’ll excuse me,” he added as he bowed to the only lady present.

“Excuse you? I’ll join you, sir!” she exclaimed as she rose from her high-back chair.  “I’m leaving before he tries to add work to my Christmas and Easter too!”

When the door closed behind them, the Mayor looked hopefully at the remnant of the Town Council.  Woodrow avoided eye contact, Sheriff Whitaker gave a vacant smile, and the Reverend Crane peered over his wire-rimmed glasses with a scornful expression.

“Thanksgiving is a day for counting the blessings the good Lord has seen fit to bestow.  It is not a day for commerce,” he said slowly.  “Did you truly think this an appropriate idea, Earnest?”

He did.  He truly did.  Even after the three of them petered out of his office, he still thought it was a good idea.  So the feisty mayor dug his in heels and planned it himself!  He made calls and arrangements that no one understood.  He tried unsuccessfully to rally his people around a strange vision no one besides him could see.  He viewed himself as a pioneer and knew that on the day tourists pour into the streets of Portsong to see the parade, he would be hailed a hero and his legacy etched in stone.

Alas, when Thanksgiving came, the streets were lined with three people who watched Otis Hoskins ride a strange little cart pulled by turkeys.  As it turns out, the crowd was simply the rest of the Hoskins family.  An odd collection of souls, this was a sort of Thanksgiving tradition and they quickly left downtown once Otis got the turkeys to move.  His parade an utter failure, Mayor Shambley ate himself into a stupor that afternoon and went to bed early, disappointed but full.

Yes, both New York and Portsong had a parade in the year 1924. Only one followed up with another in 1925.

The current citizens of Portsong would like to wish you a Happy Thanksgiving.