A Paw-some Dream: When Rusty Visited Me

Have you ever had a dream so vivid, so real, that it lingered with you all day, pulling at your heartstrings and making you smile even when you didn't know why? Well, that happened to me last night and it brought back a flood of memories about a very special boy named Rusty. He was more than just a dog; he was my heart dog, my buddy, my shadow and even now, years after he crossed the rainbow bridge, he still finds ways to visit me.

Prince Rusty Ladd Fitzgerald

It started in an old amusement park, the kind with creaky rides and a certain nostalgic charm. I was just wandering, taking it all in, when suddenly, I felt a familiar bump on my leg. That cold, wet nose, that gentle nudge—there was no mistaking it. Rusty! He came barreling up from behind me and my heart absolutely soared. It was just like old times, that immediate connection, that pure joy.

Terry loving on Rusty

Thinking back to when Terry and I first met, pets weren't really on his radar. But I've always been a dog person, and for one of my birthdays, we went to the pound. I remember falling head over heels for this adorable little chow/lab mix. We were so excited, ready to bring him home, but then, the universe had other plans. Our apartment manager, without a single word to any of the residents, suddenly decided pets were a no-go. Can you imagine? I was absolutely crushed. But you know what? That disappointment turned into determination. I got us out of that lease faster than you can say "woof," and we found a much more pet-friendly, and frankly, a lot cleaner, place.

Terry giving baby Rusty a bit of love and a good brushing

Terry knew how much a dog would mean to me, even if he wasn't entirely convinced he needed one himself at the time. So, one day, I saw an ad in the paper for Scottish Terrier puppies. Not too far away, either! My amazing friend Melanie drove us over to this guy's house – Craig was his name. He had three little boy puppies. One was a handsome grey brindle, another a striking copper-colored brindle and then there was the solid black one with just a tiny dab of white on his chin. The brindle boys were feisty, all wiggles and snaps, but when I picked up that black boy, he just melted into my arms and gave me the sweetest, sloppiest kisses. I was instantly, hopelessly in love. When I put him down, the other two were still wrestling and snapping at Terry's legs, and without a moment's hesitation, that little black fella ran right up and broke up the ruckus, fighting them off like a tiny, furry superhero. It was like he knew, right then and there, that he'd found his forever daddies. Terry, who had been a bit hesitant, looked down and saw the black little boy standing between his legs and protecting him from his brindle brothers, knowing it was the perfect way into his heart. Terry just looked at Craig and said, "Is a check okay?" And that, my friends, was the day Rusty officially joined our family.

Rusty getting some love from me

He was just eight weeks old when he came home with us, and let me tell you, he was not potty trained. So, our first stop was Petsmart, where we went a little wild. Crate, dog bed, every toy imaginable, puppy food – the whole nine yards. It was close to Christmas, so our tree was already up. Rusty wasn't really bothered by it, though sometimes you'd find him snoozing peacefully underneath. We were pretty good about catching him before he had accidents, but you know how puppies are. It was all part of the learning curve for him to understand that outside was the place for business. We got on a pretty good schedule; Terry worked days and I worked nights, so there was always someone around for our little guy, giving him some much-needed routine.

If I fell asleep, Rusty was there to protect me

We even played that silly game, the one where Terry would be at one end of the living room and I'd be at the other, calling Rusty to see who he loved the most. Of course, whoever had a treat hiding in their pocket usually won that round! But truly, he loved us both fiercely and equally.

Our friend Nathan trying to get Rusty to do the "Scotty" pose.

Rusty fit in every home we had. We moved a few times – from our early days in Buckhead to our two apartments in Smyrna, then North Springs and Dunwoody, and finally, our house south of the airport. He never seemed to mind wherever we landed, as long as he was with us. I never, ever took his presence for granted. If I was on my computer, he was either in my lap, or in a chair pulled right up next to mine, his head resting on my knee. I spent a lot of time playing online games and recording music back then, and if my voice wasn't quite right, I swear Rusty would give me this look, this knowing gaze, that let me know he felt it too. He really was my buddy.

Me cuddling baby Rusty

Now, Rusty didn't have many bad habits, but there were a couple of quirks. He absolutely loved eating toilet paper, there were times where Terry and I would walk out the front door to go somewhere and almost immediately walk back into the house because we had forgotten something, to find Rusty making his way across the living room from the direction of the bathroom looking guilty...with a trail of toilet paper from the bathroom door leading up to the roll. And don't even get me started on the bathroom garbage. He'd dive in for q-tips! It took me a good minute to figure out why his poop was suddenly so colorful – it was the colored sticks from the q-tips! We also quickly learned to keep dirty socks and underwear far, far out of his reach. If we weren't looking, he'd snag them and go straight for the sweaty parts. I'll never forget coming home from work one day to find my favorite pair of Grinch boxers...crotchless. Poor guy had bright green and yellow poop for a couple of days after that!

We didn't dress him up often but when we did, he was a good sport.

Rusty was quirky, as most Scotties are, but he wasn't your typical terrier. He was incredibly well-behaved. Going back to the potty training, he was completely housetrained within his first year with us. Any accidents after that were entirely our fault, and he was merciful enough to only do it on the kitchen or bathroom floor, where there was no carpet to ruin. He was wonderful with strangers and kids alike, always ready with a lick and a kiss, never a snap, bite or growl. Even if I playfully pretended to eat his food, putting my head down next to his bowl, he'd gently move to the side and wait patiently until I was "done" before resuming his meal. He slept in our bed every single night, a furry little shadow moving from my side to Terry's throughout the night. And oh, how he LOVED popcorn! But we always knew when one of us had given him popcornl because we'd wake up in the middle of the night to him heaving. We had mere seconds to react, or we'd be spending the rest of the night washing our comforter, all thanks to Rusty's intense intolerance to popcorn. He loved it, but it just made him throw up.

Rusty's "PLACE" on the back of our couch.

After Rusty, I desperately wanted another dog, but Terry, being a bit stubborn, just wasn't ready. Then, when my mom passed away, I brought her cat, Callie, back with me. I didn't even tell Terry! Callie was a trip, a truly cantankerous kitty, but she worked her way into our hearts with her sassy charm. We had her for five months, until she, too, got sick. We discovered she had an aggressive form of cancer, and we had to make that heartbreaking decision again.

Rusty posing for the camera.

So, when Rusty appeared in my dream last night, in that old amusement park and then it morphed into this crazy huge laundromat with a tanning bed and a skating rink – I mean, how wild is that?! – I was so impressed with this bizarre business, but my absolute focus remained on Rusty. He seemed so happy to see me and that happiness was definitely mutual. Then, sadly, my alarm blared at 3:35 AM, calling me to work and my precious time with Rusty was abruptly cut short. I've been thinking about that dream all day and I just had to share the story of Rusty and his sweet little visit to my dream.

Rusty just after his first surgery for bladder stones.

Rusty loved watching TV.

Rusty was, and always will be, my heart dog. If Rusty's story touched your heart, I'd love to hear your own memories of a beloved pet in the comments below. Every share helps keep these special bonds alive and if you feel inclined to support more stories like Rusty's, any contribution, big or small, would be deeply appreciated.

The Quirky Doodle Diaries: My Daddy's Rainy Day Antics

Ever had one of those random family memories that make you laugh every time you think about it? Today is my daddy's birthday, he would have been 82 years old. He passed away in 2010 and my sister and I think of him often. He left so many stories behind, but we never truly knew our parents very well, or at least their lives before we were born.

One of my fondest memories of my daddy involves his unique way of spending rainy days. He was quite the character, though he would never admit it. His creativity often bordered on the crazy, much like me. This particular memory still brings a smile to my face every time I recall it.

Daddy had a habit of doodling on anything he could find—bits of paper, notebooks, envelopes, and even paper towels. Despite having plenty of drink coasters, he'd always tear a paper towel in half, fold one half, and use it as a coaster. These little paper towel halves were scattered all over our house, driving us nuts, a habit he had until he passed away.

One rainy day when I was about six years old, living in our cozy little yellow house at the end of Easter Lane, someone—perhaps one of the lovely ladies in the neighborhood like Mary Williamson, Karen Richardson, Mrs. Moon, our next-door neighbor Edna, or maybe even my Aunt Joan—dropped off a huge stack of magazines for my mom: Family Circle, Ladies Home Journal, Better Homes and Gardens, Southern Living, Good Housekeeping, Redbook, and a few old issues of my favorite at the time, Smithsonian Magazine. Before my mom had a chance to flip through them, Daddy—armed with a blue ink pen from AmSouth Bank—had already commandeered the stack. He sat at the kitchen table, flipping through the pages and clicking away with that pen.

As he read, he added his own artistic touch to the magazines. By the time my mom got to them, she discovered that most of the models and smiling faces had a few or all of their teeth blued or blacked out. It was hilarious! My mom was both pissed and humored. How could you be completely mad at someone after seeing Cheryl Tiegs looking like she had a gummy bear stuck to her teeth or another model looking like she ate a toilet deodorizer?

The magazines were destined for the trash after my mom read them, so it wasn’t a big deal. But after that, she made sure to read every donated magazine before Daddy or the copycats inspired by Daddy's creativity got a hold of them.

Daddy's doodling didn't stop with magazines; the Sears Wishbook and JC Penny catalogs were also filled with his random blue ink dental work. And remember those bits of paper towels I mentioned? Well, not only would Daddy use them as coasters, but sometimes he would doodle on them before folding them up to set his drink on. Occasionally, the ink would bleed, but nothing severe enough to ruin the table or the cup. Now that I'm older, I realize that my quirkiness isn't entirely my fault—it's in my genes.

Thanks for taking a trip down memory lane with me. Do you have any quirky family traditions or funny memories? I'd love to hear about them in the comments! And if you enjoyed this story and want to support my creative endeavors, any contributions would be greatly appreciated. Just know that your support means the world to me. 😊

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Grandma Ella Ree Manning: A Legacy of Love and Lessons

My granny and grandfather with my dad

Grandma Ella Ree Bunch Manning—Granny to all of us—would be 104 today. Born on February 21, 1921, she was a remarkable woman whose legacy still resonates with our family. She married my grandfather Obdean in her teens and was stunningly beautiful, the kind of beauty that could have graced magazines had her life taken a different path. But Granny was dedicated to family, her life revolving around Alabama and Mississippi. I don't think she ever travelled further than Florida, Louisiana, Missouri or Tennessee.

Aunt Joan often shared stories of Granny's dedication long before she had children of her own. She took care of her brother Harry's twins, Ermon and Thurmon Bunch, who would later be part of the musical group The Plainsmen. Elvis Presley was a fan of the twins and later became a personal friend. Granny would walk the twins to school, carrying them when necessary because they lacked proper shoes to navigate the sandspur-lined dirt roads. All the while, her sister, Aunt Velma would trail behind, lost in her own world. Granny was the glue that held our family together for a long time, even after the death of my grandfather a day before my first birthday. She never remarried or even dated. As a kid, I watched my Uncle Mike, Uncle Gene, Aunt Joan and eventually my parents go through divorces, causing the family to fragment. But through it all, Granny remained our rock.

Granny was a phenomenal cook, specializing in Southern cuisine, and she could fry anything to perfection. She also sewed beautiful quilts for all her grandkids. I still wish I had mine, but it was lost when we were evicted from one of our houses. Granny was a master at a sewing machine and I feel like everything in her closet, except her winter coats and night gowns, may have been her own creations. She was a heavy smoker, going through about a carton a week. Granny never had cable TV—just an antenna on the side of her house that picked up three network channels and a few independents. Every morning, she would rise early, cook breakfast, and make coffee for the adults. She'd be in bed by 6:30 or 7:00 p.m., always watching the local news on WKRG Channel 5 before turning in.

Granny loved doing word searches, crossword puzzles, and variety puzzle books. She was a product of her time, a bit racist by today's standards, but it was a different world when she was growing up. She would often use the generalization of people that weren't like us as a means to keep us in line, or at least away from the wooded areas where they were lurking and waiting to kidnap us. Despite this, she cared deeply for all of her grandkids and even some great-grandkids. My cousin Crystal was especially close to her. Uncle Mike used to joke that Crystal was six but a year away from turning seventy because her best friend was Granny.

Granny slept with a gun next to her pillow and made sure all doors were locked from the inside. She was deaf in one ear, so if you got locked out after she went to bed, you were in for a tough night, or at least until my Uncle Mike or one of the other adults who seemed to always live in her house would arrive home. Once, when Granny visited us in Florida, I found myself locked out while she took a nap, oblivious to my knocking and ringing the doorbell.

While she wasn't particularly religious, she had a large Bible in her living room. She might look at it occasionally, but she never forced any of us to pray, a trait I appreciated. Granny was not a lady who cared much about looks but she did take care of herself. I remember her putting curlers in her hair and sitting under a pastel-colored tabletop hair dryer, painting her nails, doing puzzle books or reading library books my dad would check out for her.

Granny was a disciplinarian, instilling a healthy dose of respect in us with her preferred method of punishment—the switch. She would send us out to the yard to pick our own switch, ensuring we learned to choose wisely if we picked one that was too small or unwieldy. As we grew older, Granny kept a random stick in the house as a reminder for the great-grandkids. She didn't intend to use it, but our stories of the switch were enough to keep the younger ones in line. They learned from our experiences and knew Granny meant business.

Granny also had a deep love for animals and insisted we respect them. I remember the time I shot a squirrel with my BB gun. Instead of scolding me, Granny turned it into a lesson. She taught me to skin it and she then cooked the squirrel, showing me the importance of respecting life and the consequences of my actions. It tasted surprisingly like her delicious fried chicken, but the experience was enough to teach me a valuable lesson I'd never forget, I haven't eaten squirrel since.

While she had a sister, Velma, they were never close and didn't have much to do with each other unless Velma showed up for a visit. Granny would immediately instruct all of us kids to watch her and anyone she came with to make sure they didn’t take any of her belongings while she was distracted. That side of our family was wild, and I have many stories to share about them as well as my own immediate relations in the future.

Ella Ree Bunch Manning

Every Christmas, Granny could expect gifts like house slippers, kitchen items, or something to read, and she was always grateful for everything she received. The last time I saw Granny, my friend Ry (known as Stig to some of you) and I visited her at her house on Repoll Drive, on our way to the fair in Mobile. Granny didn't seem too impressed with Ry, but much like the time I invited my friend Costa to visit while I was living with her, she was the perfect hostess. She fried up some pork chops, mashed potatoes with gravy, and biscuits. Despite our intention to save room for fair food, we couldn't resist her cooking and enjoyed the meal and our visit with Granny.

Granny passed away in May 2002 after battling lung cancer, but even in her final days, she tried to sneak to the hospital roof to smoke. She was a resilient and stubborn woman, and we all loved her deeply.

Happy Heavenly Birthday, Granny Ella Ree Bunch Manning. Your legacy lives on in all of us.

Thank you for reading this tribute to my remarkable Granny. If this story resonated with you or if you have similar memories of a loved one, please feel free to share in the comments. I love hearing from all of you and learning how our shared experiences connect us. Your thoughts and stories mean the world to me, and together, we can keep the memories of our loved ones alive.

Stay connected by following me for more stories and updates, and don't forget to like and share if you enjoyed this post. Until next time, take care and cherish the moments with your loved ones.

From Pen to Paper: My Mama's Legacy of Letters

Today is my mama's birthday, she would have been 80. Ever since she and my dad passed, I find myself thinking of them more often, especially around holidays and milestones like birthdays—happier times filled with cherished memories.

My mama was a wonderfully quirky lady with a multitude of talents. From crochet to sewing, tole painting to ceramics, and even painting on canvas, there was nothing she couldn't do if she put her mind to it, often with minimal directions. I loved that about her. She excelled in certain dishes we had regularly and was a wizard with old-fashioned confections like fudge, divinity, peanut brittle, and pies.

For a lady who was constantly doing something with her hands—whether washing and folding clothes, doing dishes, tending to my sister and me, or even performing duties as room mother when we were in elementary school and sometimes working a full-time job—mama always found time to sit down and write letters. She saw value in Christmas cards and spent hours on them, not just signing "Love, Dee and family," to friends or if it was her family "Love, Pheroldine and family, but writing heartfelt letters to friends and family.

Here's a fascinating fact about my mama: she didn’t have a middle name. Her birth name was Pheroldine Day. With such an unusual and distinctive name, who needs a middle name anyway? Unlike other kids, my sister Becki and I couldn't even attempt to forge our mama's name on notes sent home from our teachers. We could never spell it right, and the teacher would instantly recognize that our mama didn’t sign and erase her name to try again. My sister once told me a story about her entire class attempting to spell our mama's name, and no one could quite get it. When my mama met my dad, he didn't like the idea of calling her Pheroldine, so he asked if he could just call her Dee. From that moment on, everyone but her side of the family called her Dee.

Whenever my sister needed a gift for a friend's birthday or Christmas, mama's go-to gift was a cute stationery set. I was always a bit jealous that I never got one like those girls; even my sister had a few herself. I'm not sure who I would have written to anyway, as I didn't really have long-distance friends or family connections to write to, so it would have been a waste of money, I guess. Still, mama had an address book filled with friends and family. She always had time to sit down with her writing pad, box of envelopes, and stamps to write to people related to us or people my sister, dad, or I had never met, like her best friend since grade school, Nancy.

I'm not sure exactly what mama wrote about, though I know that when it came to writing to her mom, my grandmother, there was always a mention of something mama didn't like about my dad or something bad that I had recently done. I wasn't a bad kid, but I guess when I did something noteworthy, it made it into her letters. Grandma didn't really like my dad and seemed not to be too fond of me either, but I was okay with that because my favorite grandmother was in Alabama—the one who didn't make me eat dishes containing massive amounts of tomatoes, bell peppers, and onions at dinner, knowing I hated them.

Even though we had a Smith Corona Galaxie Deluxe manual typewriter, much like the one I use now, and later on my mama's Brother electric typewriter, she always preferred writing letters by hand. Even if she didn't receive a reply, she would continue writing because she loved it so much. I used to think she wrote because the cost of a stamp, envelope, and a few sheets of paper was cheaper than long-distance phone calls, but it was more than that. I believe it was mama's way of what we now consider blogging. Rather than putting her thoughts out there for anyone to read in hopes of being relatable, she was making personal connections one letter at a time.

The older I get, the more I realize how my parents' actions resonated with me in ways I took for granted as a kid. Do I regret giving them hell and being a bit of a rebel when puberty hit me full tilt boogie? No. Had I not made the decisions I did in my teens, I wouldn't have seen the world or experienced things I probably never would have otherwise, though there are things I would have handled differently in some of our not-so-great moments.

In recent years, I've continued my mom's tradition of writing Christmas cards, though now more to friends than family. I don't know most of my family on mama's side, and many who would have known me have passed away. A few years ago, I thought I would buy myself a stationery kit like the ones mama bought for my sister and her friends. To my dismay, these have become relics of the past—at least the ones with more than just one or two sheets of paper per envelope and extras like a pen, matching stickers, and stencils. It baffles my mind because they used to be available everywhere, from Woolworths to TG&Y, K-Mart, and True Value Hardware. Now, not even Walmart, Office Depot, or Staples carries them, or at least not for anyone over the age of 5. If you can find a Hallmark or greeting card store, you'll discover they aren't much of a commodity in those stores anymore either. I've bought a few from Amazon, but even they don't hit the same.

I hope you enjoyed this tribute to my mama and her beautiful legacy. If you have similar stories or memories of your loved ones, please share them in the comments below. Your feedback and shared memories help build a wonderful community. If you come across any charming stationery sets or unique finds, I'd love to hear about them! Your recommendations could bring a bit of nostalgia and joy, continuing mama’s tradition. If you'd like to support this effort, your contributions are greatly appreciated. Even small gestures of support mean a lot as we continue this journey of storytelling and connection. Thank you! ❤️ ❤️

From Homeless to Prepared: A Peek Inside My Manbag

Ever wonder what it's like to carry everything you own with you at all times? Well, let me take you on a journey through the world of a self-proclaimed packrat with a touch of OCD—me! From backpacks and lunchboxes in my younger days to the latest and greatest manbags, my journey has been one of overpacking and overthinking. So, sit back, relax, and let's dive into the quirky contents of my trusty manbag.

Most people who know me in real life are well aware that I'm somewhat of a packrat. Actually, if I'm being honest, it's more than just "somewhat." This OCD thing touches every aspect of my world. When I was younger, I had backpacks and lunchboxes to stash all my stuff. But when I hit the streets in Atlanta and NYC back in 1992, carrying a backpack seemed to draw a lot of attention from store salespeople.

I quickly found it best to downsize to the bare essentials. That way, I would rarely be asked to check my bag, and if I was, they wouldn't have any reason to question why I had so much stuff. One thing I learned quickly was to never tell the staff at FAO Schwartz or Sam Goody that I was homeless and carried everything I owned with me. That is, until I discovered the place I tricked out behind an abandoned house in New Jersey, and then the amount of my belongings grew substantially. If I did have to check my bag and the clerk asked why it was so heavy, my standard response became something like, "I'm visiting my uncle or dad." It totally worked, especially because of my Southern accent—it was a real kicker. This was before I learned to cover up the accent.

Once I left NYC, I found it hard to part with "the essentials." To this day, I still carry stuff around with me as I did when I was homeless, but my carry-all bag is now known as my manbag. I have four manbags—one is technically a laptop bag, and another is a laptop backpack.

Have you ever noticed that when you ask someone, "What's in your bag?" most people won't tell you? In fact, they'll go out of their way to avoid further conversation on the topic. What's in there? Government secrets? People can be so touchy about petty stuff. It's just that—STUFF. So, what's in my manbag? Let's break it down:

Contents of My Manbag:

• Hand Sanitizer: Essential for keeping germs at bay, especially after touching public surfaces or before eating. Remember, it's not just for Covid.

• Epi-Pen: A lifesaver for someone with severe allergies. Luckily, I've never had to use it, but it's always good to be prepared.

• Prep H Pads: Handy for relieving any discomfort or irritation. Not glamorous, but practical.

• Pain Meds: For pain management. These are something I keep around just in case I have a severe headache or any other sudden pain. During my homeless years, I never bothered with meds and suffered through toothaches, migraines, colds, the flu, and nausea. I would rather die than go through all of that without some sort of assistance.

• 4 Color BIC Pen: Super useful for organizing notes or highlighting different things in my journal or planner.

• Mechanical Pencil: Always good to have for making notes or sketching ideas on the go.

• Notebook: This is my portable idea bank. I jot down thoughts, to-dos, and anything else that comes to mind.

• Out-of-Date Penny Press Word Search: A fun way to pass the time and keep my brain active during downtimes.

• Rechargeable Portable Fan: A lifesaver on hot days. It’s small but mighty and helps keep me cool.

• Mini Mary Hanson Roberts Tarot Cards: Great for quick readings or just a bit of fun. They’re compact and easy to carry. I don't break out the tarot cards as much as I used to, though. Not that I've lost my touch, just not really interested in the attention a public reading brings.

• Lighter: Always useful, whether for lighting a candle, starting a fire, or just in case of an emergency.

• Swiss Army Knife: I used to have a Leatherman Mini, but it was stolen many years back. No matter which, they come in handy more often than you’d think, especially when I was homeless—cutting, opening packages, minor repairs, you name it. Except when I go to work—even though I am cleared to take necessary tools into the airport, this isn't needed for my job though it would come in handy at times.

• Lotion: Hand sanitizer dries out your hands, so it's always good to moisturize, especially when you never know when you're going to have to shake someone's hand. Dry hands are embarrassing.

• Gum or Hard Candy: Just because.

• Lip Balm: Keeps my lips from getting chapped, plus it tastes pretty good too.

Things that I Used to Carry but Have Been Outmoded by Other Stuff:

• Digital Camera: Now we all rely on our phones, and it took me a while to break away from a dedicated camera, but phones are just as good for higher-quality photos.

• Creative Zen Touch MP3 Player: My old-school music player. I loved it until Terry upgraded me to an iPod Touch for Christmas many years ago. Much like the Digital Camera, the iPod has been replaced by my phone.

Yup, I was once a Boy Scout. Their motto is "Be Prepared," and that, I am.

The thoughtful Christmas 2024 gift from Terry. ❤️

Now, let's talk about the fantastic gift I received this past Christmas. Terry gifted me an amazing large messenger bag. He was itching to give it to me before my trip to Orlando, knowing it would be the perfect size for me to travel with as my personal item on Frontier Airlines, but I didn't want to take away from his or my Christmas morning excitement. At first, I thought it was a little too big, but when I realized my 14-inch laptop that I use for almost everything, including this blog, fit perfectly, I knew it was just right. Though I love it, much like ladies with their handbags, you can never have enough things to carry stuff in. Given that I am required to carry clear bags to work, I've been searching high and low for a clear crossbody bag large enough for my larger 15-inch laptop and the accessories mentioned above.

So, what about you? Do you carry a bag or a manbag with you? My favorites are pretty much the standard waxed canvas bags, similar to the ones at Army Surplus stores. I wish I could find one large enough to fit a 15-inch laptop into, but no such luck for me. If I could carry my laptop around in one, I would, but it seems the typical messenger bags they make nowadays aren't really big enough. And if they are, they don't have enough padding to keep the laptop safe. What's inside your bag, and why do you carry those items? Let's swap stories—leave a comment below and share your essentials. You never know; you might inspire someone to add a new must-have to their own bag!

If you've got any cool ideas for must-have items or if you come across an awesome messenger bag that you think I'd love, feel free to let me know. Your suggestions and contributions are always appreciated. Thank you!

Rekindling a Love for Model Building: From Childhood Memories to Carnival Rides

As a kid, my sister Becki was always fascinated by cars and vehicles—a passion that far surpassed my own interest. I vividly remember our time in the little yellow house at the end of Easter Lane in Mobile. I was just about to start kindergarten when Becki began building model cars from kits she or our parents bought from TG&Y or K-Mart.

Becki was meticulous and fast when it came to building her models. I loved watching her progress; from box to completion, it never took her more than a few days before she moved on to the next project. These weren’t the snap-together models that started appearing in stores towards the end of the 1980s and early 1990s; these were the kind that required real effort and skill. I remember the sound of the plastic pieces being removed from the sprue, the bright light she aimed at her workspace, and the distinctive smell of Testors enamel paint and modeling glue. Once you smell Testors enamel paint or modeling glue, you'll never forget it.

Personally, I never had a strong interest in car models, but I appreciated the hobby for others. I loved that model kits were so accessible. There was usually a whole aisle dedicated to models, with kits and the tools to build, paint, and display the finished product available in stores like K-Mart, TG&Y, and Woolco. For many years, Walmart also carried a good selection of models, paint, and glue, but it seems they have since discontinued their model section. Thankfully, stores like Hobby Lobby, Hobbytown, and Michaels still carry a decent supply of paints, glues as well as model, ship, airplane and car kits.

Bobe's Hobby House, sadly permanently closed

Some of my best memories involved walking through Bobe’s Hobby House in Pensacola, Florida, which was owned by my friend Katie’s grandfather. There, I saw a box with a model of my absolute favorite carnival ride, the Skywheel. I begged my mama to buy it for me, but she flat out said no and bought me a small balsa wood airplane instead, which I destroyed within a couple of minutes of playing with in our backyard. A few years later, I saw the same model in the “Things You Never Knew Existed” catalog printed by the Johnson Smith Company and added it to my Christmas list. Unfortunately, model kits would never be part of my childhood. I'm not sure if my parents thought I didn’t have the attention span or feared the models would just sit and collect dust if they even made it to completion.

It wasn’t until the late 1990s, when Terry and I were living in Smyrna, Georgia, that I walked into a hobby shop on South Cobb Drive and saw that exact same model kit sitting on the shelves among thousands of others. The brand was called IHC, and the packaging looked quite basic with a drawing of a Skywheel and a brief description of what’s inside the box. It also mentioned the model could be motorized—how cool is that? My sister’s model cars were static and just cool to look at but never moved. While browsing the section, I realized that IHC not only created the Skywheel model kit but a whole line of carnival ride models like the Spider, a Flying Bobs-type ride called Thunderbolt, as well as a regular Ferris Wheel and other rides, games and concessions like one would see set up at a fair. I ended up buying the Skywheel, Thunderbolt, and Spider, along with some modeling glue, paint brushes, and other tools to work on my new models.

Out of the box, the models didn’t look like the pictures. They were basic colors that didn’t even match the actual rides, and the artwork that came with them was not self-stick decals but crudely drawn and colored renderings of generic art. However, the directions were good.

I assembled my Thunderbolt within an hour of getting home, but something about it bothered me—the colors, the artwork, the way the ride cars hung from the center point. Not sure what it was, perhaps a bit of everything, so I decided to disassemble what wasn’t permanently glued on and see about making it more realistic. Then my attention swayed over to the next model before I could really get it together again. Perhaps my parents knew I would do this, but I still enjoyed working on each one of them on and off. That year, Terry gave me several models that I hadn’t yet purchased as well as several motors for them. He’s always been good at picking up on what I want for Christmas and did a great job that year.

Though the IHC models weren’t exactly realistic, they were good for learning what modeling is about, and I soon discovered another brand called Faller. Faller not only made carnival models but detailed ones that looked just like the real thing, some even coming with lighting. Faller offered more than just carnival rides; they had roller coasters too. I purchased two roller coasters, completely assembled them, but unfortunately, they were destroyed during an incident in our old apartment.

IHC and Faller weren’t the only players in the carnival ride model game. Some individuals began creating their own kits, such as RAH Models owned by Ronald Hamm and Renauld's Midway Miniatures built by Warren Renauld, as well as the incredibly detailed working models made by Don Cummins. While the RAH models involved a bit more knowledge in what’s known as “kit bashing” to make assembly and theming more realistic, Ronald offered an array of rides that could fill an entire state fair if they were full-sized rides.

Over the years, I’ve not touched my models, many of which are unfinished or even taken apart for retheming but just not completed. I have, however, followed many groups dedicated to the hobby and am friends with many very talented men who create their own carnival models from various items as well as IHC, RAH and Faller kits. My friend Kenny Littlechild, for instance, has created a layout of rides that are elaborately detailed yet made from long matchsticks, cardboard, and other basic items.

Being that I enjoy working with my hands, writing, and a million other things, I have decided to start working on the old ride models I already have, get them complete, and move on to more—perhaps even recreating a classic layout of my favorite years from the fairs I have attended.

I will be sharing photos of my completed models as I finish them. Though I wouldn't hold my breath too long, as it will probably take me a while for some of them since many have suffered damage from being shuffled around and stored in closets and under beds. Stay tuned for updates and progress pictures!

Hooray for Hollywood: The True Story of an Original GLOW Girl - From Ring to Real Life: The Heartfelt Journey of Jeanne Basone

My book reviews are typically posted on Thursdays. However, considering the significance of this book—Hooray For Hollywood by the GLOW girl Hollywood, Jeanne Basone—I've decided to make an exception. This isn't just a book review; it's also part of my Saturday GLOWcase blog series, where I highlight personalities connected to my all-time favorite show, Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling (GLOW). This dual-purpose post celebrates Jeanne's amazing new release and honors the enduring legacy of GLOW.

If you were into Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling (GLOW) back in the day, you definitely remember Hollywood, Jeanne Basone. She wasn’t just a pretty face—Hollywood was the very first to be cast as a GLOW girl and became one of the show’s most iconic villains. With her glamorous street girl persona and killer moves, she knew how to bring drama and excitement to the ring. Her character had the glitz of the Sunset Strip with an edge of menace that made her so intriguing to watch.

Hollywood Jeanne Basone, in Hollywood

In the ring, Hollywood was fierce. She brought a blend of charisma and athleticism to her villainous role, always keeping the audience on their toes. Her high-energy matches against the good girls were legendary, packed with intense action and loads of attitude. From the pilot episode to the unexpected final episode, Hollywood cemented her status as a top competitor and a formidable opponent.

But Jeanne's book, Hooray for Hollywood: The True Story of an Original GLOW Girl, released December 25, 2024, is so much more than just a recount of her wrestling days. It's a heartfelt and raw journey through her entire life. Jeanne dives deep into her childhood, the traumatic events she's endured, her loves and losses, her family, and growing up. She even shares her travels and her long term relationship with her incredible boyfriend, musician Ryan Spencer Cook. This book truly covers it all and gives you a genuine look into the person behind Hollywood.

This isn't just Jeanne's story—it's the story of her friends, colleagues, and family. Her perspective is inclusive and almost every detail is written from the heart, with love, no matter how painful or traumatic. As a long-time fan and friend of Jeanne, I was deeply moved by how she shared not just her life, but the lives of her friends and fans—including myself! Jeanne's ability to weave these personal anecdotes into her story makes it so relatable and touching. It's a beautiful reminder of how powerful friendships can be and the impact we can have on each other's lives.

What really stands out in this book are the memories and stories from Jeanne's friends and family. There's content written by her sisters Julie and Joelle, GLOW's head writer Steve Blance, actor Douglas Dunning (aka Sir Miles Headlock of GLOW), rock music photographer Michael Strider, and fans like William Taylor, Kim Krieger, Mike Rand, Shawn Campbell, Manny Briano, Andrew Zeranick, and myself. This collective memoir makes the book feel like a shared journey. The segments about our own friendship and history as fans were especially touching. Jeanne’s storytelling is engaging and heartfelt, making it impossible to put the book down.

The photos in the book are truly spectacular, with an amazing shot taken in the Dominican Republic by my partner, Terry. These images add so much depth to the stories, bringing the memories to life in vivid detail. It's like you’re right there, experiencing everything alongside Jeanne and her friends.

A spread from GLOW Magazine feature Hollywood

After GLOW, Hollywood didn’t just disappear. Jeanne kept wrestling on the indie circuit and dabbled in acting, stunt work, and modeling. She’s appeared in Playboy, Married with Children, Liar Liar, and countless other movies, TV shows, and magazines. Jeanne's versatility and talent have made her a multifaceted performer, showcasing her skills beyond the wrestling ring. One of her most iconic projects was playing Jane in the video game Plumbers Don't Wear Ties. Her legacy as one of GLOW’s top bad girls lives on, especially with the resurgence of interest in GLOW thanks to the Netflix series. Jeanne's journey from a glamorous villain in the ring to a multifaceted performer is a testament to her talent and determination.

Jeanne bravely addresses the bullying incidents involving certain ladies of GLOW as well as their fans, both towards Jeanne and her fans. Her candidness in setting the record straight is empowering and enlightening. Jeanne's honesty and courage in speaking out about these issues are truly inspiring. Hollywood may have been a bad girl in the ring, but she's a very good girl outside of it. Her book is not just a memoir but a powerful statement against bullying and overcoming adversity, showing that even in the face of challenges, one can rise above and make a positive impact. Her journey is a testament to resilience and the strength to stand up against unfair treatment and adversity.

Terry and I with Jeanne, on a cruise 2018

Today, Jeanne's got her hands in a lot of fires, in addition to her her own comic books and now her memoir Hooray For Hollywood, she still wrestles and makes soap for her company Hollywood Botanika. If you loved Hollywood, be sure to look her up on Facebook, Instagram, X (formerly Twitter), and her Etsy Store https://www.etsy.com/shop/GLOWHollywoodMerch. You might also catch her at fan conventions for wrestling, comic books, and her yearly appearance at the CAC in Las Vegas. Anyone who's ever met her can attest that Hollywood is one of the most fan-friendly wrestlers you could ever meet.

Jeanne also includes beautiful tributes to the GLOW girls who have passed away, such as Matilda the Hun, Tara the Southern Belle, Sally the Farmer's Daughter, Star, Mountain Fiji, Angel, Pepper, Aunt Kitty, Big Bad Mama, Babe the Farmer's Daughter and several others. These tributes are a heartfelt and touching homage to her fellow wrestlers, preserving their legacy and the impact they had on the wrestling world.

You can purchase Hooray for Hollywood: The True Story of an Original GLOW Girl by Jeanne Basone (ISBN# 9798218566524) from various online retailers, including:

Amazon: Amazon.com

Jeanne’s official website: JeanneBasone.com

Jeanne's etsy shop: etsy.com/shop/GLOWHollywoodMerch

Hooray for Hollywood: The True Story of an Original GLOW Girl is a must-read for anyone who loves a good, candid, and truthful biography, 1980's pop culture, and professional wrestling—especially ladies wrestling. Jeanne Basone has truly outdone herself with this remarkable work, creating a book that is both entertaining and deeply moving. I wholeheartedly recommend this book to anyone looking for an inspiring and captivating read.

Yours truly enjoying Hooray for Hollywood!

Each Saturday, I post a blog entry featuring memories of a Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling personality, including the wrestlers, crew, management, as well as fans who loved the show as kids and into adulthood.

If you would like to purchase episodes of GLOW on DVD, Blu-Ray or VHS, check out eBay for deals on NEW and media.

Remembering TG&Y: The Store That Had It All

TG&Y Store Fronts

Growing up in the 70s and 80s, some of my best memories were from when my mom or dad would take my sister and me shopping. One of our favorite places was TG&Y, a beloved variety store. This "five and dime" was a staple in many communities across the United States, catering to people who weren't exactly well-off or just enjoyed an all-in-one shop. It predated the expansion of Wal-Mart and it's only rival at the time seemed to be K-Mart. I've heard it called Toys, Games & Yarn, Turtles, Girdles & Yo-Yos, and other variations because of its diverse departments.

TG&Y was founded in 1935 by Rawdon E. Tomlinson, Enoch L. “Les” Gosselin, and Raymond A. Young, whose initials formed the store’s name. The chain quickly grew, reaching its peak in the 1970s and 1980s with nearly 1,000 stores in 29 states. Known for its slogan, “Your best buy is at TG&Y,” the store aimed to provide a wide range of products at affordable prices. Walking into a TG&Y store was like stepping into a treasure trove of goods. The store was divided into several departments, each offering a unique shopping experience:

Toys: The toy section was a paradise for kids and for kids like me who weren't really taken to toy stores, it was THE toy store. From classic board games to the latest action figures (hello Masters of the Universe), TG&Y had it all. Popular items included yo-yos, dolls, and model kits. My sister spent hours in her preteen years gluing together and painting model cars with Testors glue and paint from TG&Y. Prices were incredibly reasonable, with many toys costing less than a dollar. Towards the end, I racked up on Masters of the Universe action figures because clearance prices were around a dollar.

Yarn and Crafts: For the crafty shopper like my mom, TG&Y’s yarn and crafts department was heaven. You could find a wide variety of yarns in different colors and textures, perfect for knitting and crocheting projects. A skein of yarn typically cost around 50 cents to a dollar. Unfortunately, my mom gravitated to budget-friendly acrylic yarns in orange, brown, mustard, white, and dusty rose that usually felt a little itchy. She enjoyed crocheting, and the prices were right for her, so that's what mattered.

Pets: TG&Y had a pet section where you could buy small pets like goldfish, hamsters, and parakeets. Pet supplies, including food and cages, were also available at budget-friendly prices. I always wanted a hamster, but my cousin Lynda put a nail in the coffin when it came to my mom deciding to get one for me after hers escaped several times. I honestly don't think my mom would have bought one anyway; she wasn't much of an animal person and was good at using other people's examples, no matter if the story happened or not.

Household Goods: From kitchenware to cleaning supplies, TG&Y offered a range of household items. You could find everything from pots and pans to brooms and mops, all at prices that wouldn’t break the bank. My mom's cleaning supply list was definitely fulfilled by TG&Y: Dutch Cleanser, 409, Lemon Joy, and Windex were her go-to products.

Clothing: The clothing department featured affordable fashion for the whole family. Whether you needed a new pair of jeans or a cozy sweater, TG&Y had you covered whether you wanted them or not. What you wore wasn't a big deal during elementary school unless it was dirty or stinky, and by the time I was in middle school, when kids began to worry about impressing others and not wanting to wear cheap clothes, TG&Y was already on the way out and not offering up-to-date clothing.

Hardware: They sold motor oil, tools, pesticides, bug killers, garden implements, and lawnmowers. My dad bought a riding lawnmower from TG&Y, and it worked for years.

Electronics & Records: The electronics section featured various brands and sizes of TVs, as well as different brands of stereos and record players. I don't remember if they carried high-end stuff, but I know they carried lower-priced brands like Soundesign, Emerson, and their own store-branded transistor radios. The record section covered top 40 pop, rock, country, soundtracks, and compilations. They carried records, tapes, and up until the early 80s, 8-tracks. TG&Y also carried 45 records but always seemed to be a week or two behind the new release selection at K-Mart, although they were a dime or so cheaper. I remember when my dad bought me Van Halen's Jump, my first "grown up" 45 at the TG&Y in Schillinger Road in Mobile, Alabama. I played it on my hand me down Emerson Disco 80 record player until the grooves were worn to the point where it sounded like it was being played on a radio station that wasn't quite getting full reception. I was so proud of it and I always looked forward to looking at the records in TG&Y. 

One of the most memorable aspects of TG&Y was its affordability. The store’s philosophy was to "have what people want at a price they can afford to pay," meaning shoppers could find great deals on a wide range of products. For example, a toy might cost 25 cents, a skein of yarn 50 cents, and a goldfish just a few dimes. This made TG&Y a popular destination for families looking to stretch their dollars.

Shopping at TG&Y was more than just a trip to the store; it was an experience. Entering TG&Y involved passing by a kid's merry-go-round and a car ride that took a quarter per ride, a few gumball and candy machines, and a couple of arcade games like Pac-Man and Galaga. The friendly staff, wide variety of products, and unbeatable prices created a welcoming atmosphere that kept customers coming back. Whether you were a child eagerly picking out a new toy or an adult stocking up on household essentials, TG&Y had something for everyone. Some stores had their own lunch counters. One in Mobile, Alabama, had one, and I obsessed over the fruit punch in the JetSpray Beverage Dispenser because something about it looked refreshing. Can't remember what the food was like, but I feel it might have been similar to the K-Mart restaurant or Woolworth lunch counter. The checkout experience was just like all the other stores at the time, with simple cash registers, credit card imprinters with slips, and flat paper bags that sounded super crinkly, which would get folded closed and the receipt stapled to by the cashier.

My last memory of an actual TG&Y, before McCrory's converted them to the short lived concepts of even cheaper dollar store concepts like Dollar Zone, was the Gulf Breeze, Florida location which always had pool and water floats fully inflated and stored just outside the front doors. I always wanted my parents to stop there to buy a float on the way to Pensacola Beach.

Though TG&Y stores have long since closed their doors, the memories of shopping there remain vivid for me. It was a place where my parents could find just about anything they needed while entertaining their kids, all at prices that made you smile. TG&Y may be gone, but its legacy as a beloved variety store lives on in the hearts of those who shopped there. For anyone looking for a similar shopping experience, minus the pets, records, lawnmowers, and crafting sections, the closest thing in modern times would be stores like Roses or perhaps a Walmart that hasn’t been converted to a Supercenter.