Writing about My Least Favorite Subject: Me
Me in 1995
Me in various situations in life
It's fair to say
We humans all have wants, needs, and desires of the heart. That can be good. And that can be a distraction to a productive life.
I am here to do three things: 1.) Try to write about myself, which is hard enough, but tell you in an honest spirit, that my days are numbered on earth. 2.) There are things that I wish people had said to me in my time on earth and 3.) things that I wish I had accomplished while I had the time and health.
I hope you do not think that I am being self-serving or self-centered. I am not. If any of you, my cherished followers, were to spend a day with me, you would see early on that I am telling the truth.
Why am I doing this?
Simple. I said that my days are numbered. I found this out at a recent visit to my family doctor. She said that I had an incurable disease in my circulation and vascular system whatever that is. And this disease is causing the bone in my left leg to eventually waste away and this same disease is already settled in my right leg and as my doctor saved the "big guns" for last. She said that this disease would also get into my heart and I would either pass away with a heart attack or congestive heart failure.
Am I scared? Not really. Not that I am boasting or looking forward to this trip, but why worry? Worrying will not and cannot change this situation. And people always bring Jesus into this problem. I don't mind that at all. I love Jesus. He is my savior and best friend. If He heals me, great. Praise His Holy name. And if He chooses not to heal me, great. Praise His Holy name.
I take comfort in the fact that He knows me and all about my sicknesses--this new one and the Fibromyalgia and Neurothopy I have fought since 2003.
I wanted this story to reveal, and maybe expose, things about me that I never confessed or wrote about to you.
Will doing this change my life? Probably not that much, but I will have the peace of mind that I was totally-honest and up-front to my precious followers.
Things I wish I had not done
I begin with the hard stuff. The shameful things that range from childhood (all that I can recall) to the teenage years where I thought I had it all figured out. Life that is. So sit back and laugh, talk about this story, or even pray if you like.
- Use up my mother's Fire Chief kitchen matches at age five. They were long and easy to strike. I was having a big time watching the flaming matches fall to the grown as I was pretending they were missiles shot in World War II. My fantasy was short-lived when my mother said, "give those matches to me. NOW!"
- Talk sassy to my dad who worked at many jobs to keep me fed and clothed. He never gave the whippings that I rightly-deserved. Now I wish he had. Then maybe my early years would have turned out better.
- Throw mud on his 1950 Ford when he was away at work. Mother was busy inside the house, so my imagination took over. I pretended the car was full of gangsters and I was the police using a special "Mud Bomb," that would get those thugs out of the car and sent to jail. My sister and mother eventually see me creating this disaster and scolded me away from the scene knowing that my dad "would" whip me good for messing up his valuable car. My sis and mother drew water from our well and washed all of the mud from the car. Dad got home and said very little about the puddles of water around his washed car. Thank you, Jesus!
- Ride into mother's kitchen in my blue, streamlined stroller and duck down just before the stroller and I disappeared underneath the table.
- Sneak to our barn one day without telling mother where I was going. She found me surrounded by dogs, chickens, and our mule, "Gray Bones," whom was enjoying the corn I was shucking and feeding her. Yes, mother scolded me. Actually, she scolded me most everyday. That's why I am openly-repenting for the mean deeds that I did as a child.
Things I wish I HAD done
1.) Pick my mother more flowers. She loved flowers. I was too busy getting causing mischief to give her some flowers to show her my appreciation for her.
2.) Kept my mouth shut more. When my parents had people visit, I was the one who ran around in the house screaming things I had heard on television westerns. Oh to give back the moments I robbed from my parents and friends.
3.) Be more loving and obedient. My sister was an ideal child. In every way. I wasn't. As I grew older and got into more trouble, I have said many times, "I wish that I had not been born," for if I were not here, my parents (and others) would not have had (this) trouble.
4.) Been more cooperative. I remember a lot of times that my parents would tell me to carry out a task and all that I did was argue. Oh, eventually I did the task, but only when my dad removed his brown belt from around is waist.
5.) Told my dad how much I loved him. Just one time would be sufficient for me.
Things I wish were said to me in my adult years
- ) "Kenny, that was a great job." I know this sounds selfish, but friends, I admit it. I am human. And sometimes a human needs to be encouraged. I have though, heard "good try," "good job," and "nice work," but never a "great job, Kenny." I guess that whatever work I was doing was only "good."
- ) "I wish I had a son like you." That one was a reach. In my teen years I was respectful to the mother's of what few male friends I had, but not one of them said this statement to me. Oh well. Another walk with my buddy, "failure."
- ) "You can manage this office, Kenny." I can remember only once, and for a very brief time, I was in charge of a newspaper office. The man who was the boss got fired leaving me to run things. Now I am not "blowing my own horn," but I put in more late-night hours getting things done to save money for the company than he did. But the permanent promotion didn't last. The company, (a secret to me), was "cleaning house," of the old hands and hiring teenagers who would work for minimum wage. I am still not over that tumble face-first downhill.
The Kudzu Playhouse (in this production) of: "Andy's Farewell," consisted of: (from left) Michelle Mills, "Janie Pimbershot," "AndyTaylor's" new wife; Clint Padgett; "Andy Taylor," Kenny Avery, "Barney Fife; Nena Gaby, "Mavis Neff," and the lady holding the program, I do not know her name except she was a dear friend of our theatre president, Clint Padgett. THE REASON I AM PUTTING THEIR NAMES IN THIS BOX IS FOR YOU TO GIVE THEM THE CREDIT FOR BEING SUCH GREAT THESPIANS, AND THAT I DIDN'T HAVE ROOM UNDERNEATH THE PHOTO TO TYPE THEIR NAMES.
Thank you Sincerely,
Things I wish I HAD said in my adult years
- ) "Buddy, keep that whiskey away from me." No explanation necessary.
- ) "Go to a party?" "No. Not tonight. My wife and I have plans." Again. No explanation necessary.
- ) "You are going to pay her more?" When I left my first newspaper job, I left by best friend, a talented brunette lady who taught me all about how a newspaper works. And after a few weeks at the other newspaper I was working, my then-editor came to me and said he was going to hire this lady who worked with me at the other paper and pay her more than me. "Is this going to bother you?" he asked. In a moment of stupidity, I replied, "Wy' no." I was too overjoyed to work with her again, but over the years I did some serious evaluation about her talents and mine. We were pretty equal. She might do one or two things better, but I have always wished that I had said, "Yes, this bothers me. You can pay us the same," instead of the opening phrase in this block: "You are going to pay her more?" That question didn't get my disappointment across to my editor.
- ) "I am having a great time." But this phrase didn't leave my lips. My now-deceased buddy and I had dates with two girls one time in mid-week and I was tired from working at my job and argued not to go. But he won by saying that his date, the older girl, was in charge of the younger girl, her niece and if she, the older girl couldn't go, neither could her niece. So I went. And after a night of giggling and talking, we parked at a local restaurant. My buddy and his date went inside to order our food while I stayed outside with the niece. She was a very pretty girl with long brown hair that caressed her shoulders. I was almost urged to kiss her, but I didn't. The out of the blue she said, "are you bored?" And again, out of the blue I replied, "yes, I am." She laughed. But I knew my stupid remark hurt her feelings. But 24 years later, I went to her workplace, a local dentist office to get a tooth removed and there she was. I apologized to her for my ignorance. She laughed and said she had forgotten about it. I also wrote a column for my paper about my stupid words and how much I appreciated the now-mature girl. I should have said to her when she asked if I were bored, "Are you kidding me? Give me a kiss, you hot babe!" I am sure that a 14-year-old would enjoy a taste of adulthood.
People I need to thank for making my life complete
- God - for without Him, I wouldn't have been here.
- My mom, dad, and sister - they endured me until they all passed away.
- My high school friends - what few I had. They made me feel like I was actually "somebody."
- My wife - She has done way too much for me, an undeserving man who has so many character flaws that he (talking about me), will have to be worked on until my last breath.
- My true friends I worked with - Les Walters, managing editor of the Journal Record where I worked (or wasted) 23 years of my life. Tracy Estes, news editor, Ed Howell, staff writer, Kristi White, ad sales. (those from 1975 when I started in the paper business): Roger Quinn, publisher, who now publishes the huge daily paper, The Gadsden Times; Joy Emerson; Don Thrasher, publisher of the Northwest Alabamian who was our sister paper; Gary Taylor, a great friend and talented photographer and a heckuva guitar player; Kenny Hess, pressman; Phillip Brooks, production manager; Aaron Collins, assistant production manager and many more too numerous to mention.
- My pastor and his wife, Bro. John Holliday and wife, Sis. Karin Holliday - for teaching me the simple things of Christianity.
- Teresa Shewbart - my real best friend from high school.
- Kenneth Stone - a true "good ol' boy," beer and all. But he was the quietest "good ol' boy" I've ever known.