A U.S. Citizen and three Bulgarian tourists walk into an antique store in small town U.S.A.
No horse, no saloon, no long face.
A U.S. Citizen and three Bulgarian tourists walk into an antique store in small town U.S.A.
No horse, no saloon, no long face.
If you happen to be in the Woodstock, Virginia area tomorrow Friday 8/24, stop by the Consulate Care assisted living facility for their bake sale. It’s a Friday, so you’ll probably be needing a pick-me-up to get you to the weekend. The feeding frenzy starts after breakfast and continues until everything’s eaten! All proceeds go to help one of the residents. Here are pictures of my three personal favorites that I made to help the cause. Continue reading Bake Sale !!!
Back when I was a boy! (as I pull-up my trousers and speak like an older man:) Life was simple for a teenager growing up in Small Town U.S.A. In 1978, the population of Woodstock, Virginia was somewhere around 2500 people. Continue reading Our Jericho Mile
This is an old home movie that captures the festivities featured in Woodstock, Virginia’s Bicentennial Celebration in 1952. Following the video is a short history lesson and a linked PDF with documents from the pageant held later that day. Continue reading A Small Town Parade Filmed in 1952
This is another in a series of short home movies that I’ve been editing (while learning how to edit:). It’s from a collection filmed by the late (uncle) Sam Smith of Woodstock, Virginia , my hometown. Continue reading Video-Main Street in Woodstock, Virginia during the Forties
I was loading groceries into my car in the Food Lion parking lot last week, when a young woman approached and asked for a ride up the road to her job at the Pizza Hut. Continue reading Hitchhiking – A Bygone Adventure
This is to be read at a Henny Youngman/Groucho Marx tempo.
So my Mom’s living in South Carolina and buys a retirement home up in the hills of the Appalachian Mountains of Virginia. As is often the case, I’m not working and volunteer to live in the house while freeloading as I paint and remodel the new home.
Mom sends me a book to be delivered at the local Post Office. She has a small P.O. Box at the office, but it’s not big enough to hold a book.
I walk in for the first time ever.
“Hi. Yeeeah. My Mom sent a book for me from South Carolina”
The lone Post Office employee tells me to wait for a moment and surveys a pile of packages behind her. Then she grabs one.
“Here you go!”
“Thanks”
I went back to my car with the package, strapped-up with my seat belt, and started the engine. And then it dawned on me. I never mentioned my name or my Mom’s. Never a P.O. number. Just that my Mom had sent me a packaged book.
And it was the right package!
You know you’re in a small town if…