Five and Dimes

Back before the Wal Marts and even KMarts and Alco's of the world, small towns had Five and Dimes. They were little stores that carried a little of this and a little of that. Clothes, craft stuff, knick knacks, gifts, toys and most important to me - candy!

I saw recently in the ANT - Atlantic News Telegraph (it was run by the Simpson family in town - another good friend of the Bullocks, until 15 years ago or so), that Mrs. Bonneson died. Bonneson's was one of the stores I frequented nearly weekly when I was a kid - at least during good weather.

Laurie Reinertson and I would walk downtown - it was a good 7 or 8 blocks, but all downhill. Back then our parents didn't worry much about us getting kidnapped or sexually abused by some perv. We walked with purpose - on a mission to get some serious shopping done. I usually had a coin purse on me - one of those rubbery things you squeezed to open up. Or a leather one my sis weaved and pounded during arts and crafts at Bar L Ranch.

Early on, Bonneson's was on the left side of main street - Chestnut. When you walked in the door you were met by a huge candy case filled with all sorts of delights Willy Wonka would have loved! Grape Bubble Gum, Lik-Em-Aids, Pixie Stix, Bottle Caps, Candy Necklaces, Wax lips and pop bottles, Sweetarts, Lemonheads, Milk Duds, Sugar Daddies, Fizzies, Bazooka Gum, Boston Baked Beans, Candy Cigarettes, Bubble Gum Cigars, Bit O Honey, Slow Pokes and more.
Oh, I didn't get all that stuff each time - but I remember getting canker sores a few times thanks to sugar overdose.

I also liked to look around the store - not at the boring stuff like fabric and womanly things. But at the toys - junky stuff you'd never buy but lusted for. Fake handcuffs, guns - you know what a tomboy I was - all those things attracted me. There was a downstairs to the little store too.

They also had a wonderful selection of porcelain horses - another huge attraction! Those were great birthday gifts - the Bullocks had a wonderful collection of them on the built-in shelves in Betsy and my bedroom. Cindy crafted yarn bridles for them and we used those little pencil eraser creatures (another dimestore purchase) as the riders - playing Bar L ranch and naming each horse Bar L horse names. Of course we had to be mighty careful of the fragile horses, and ended up gluing one or two - the ones in a trotting position were especially vulnerable!

The other store in town - Ben Franklin, was run by the Larson family. Marlette was a class behind me. That store was laid out all on one level. They had the added attraction of - gasp - hamsters and birds! I lusted after those too, but my mother wisely avoided adding either to our family. That store is where Bets and I unwisely turned in original Barbies (Cindy and Susi's no doubt) for the Twist and Turn models (I didn't even like Barbie - that had to be an impulse buy!). The store was another good place to bide my time checking out toys on slow summer days.

I miss good old main street Atlantic. But times change and we can't ever get that back. I'm sure my grandparents missed stores from their childhoods that were replaced by Ben Franklin. And so it goes...

Tom Henningsen

One of my dad's buddies passed away Wednesday. Dad grew up with Tom Henningsen in Atlantic - their parents were friends. Tom always called him Bullock. Tom was the step dad of my friend Robbie Dob.

I've blogged before about how Tom and Robyn's mom Jody rocked Atlantic with their scandalous marriage post divorce from their original spouses - all in the same friend group - in 1969. They must have truly been soulmates though, as they were married 40 years! So Dad and Tom had a few years in there they weren't close - as friends chose sides with the marriage splits. But in the last 20 years or so, they've been like grumpy old men - enjoying fishing trips to Canada and South Dakota.


One time, not so long ago - when they were already OF (Old Farts) and Tom had palsy pretty bad. Tom piloted Dad and himself to someplace in Canada. They were met by the border patrol at the airport where they landed. Something about failure to file a flight plan...the cops backed off when they saw it was just two old guys wanting to do some fishing. The next year, Tom's son Mike flew them!

After Dad had his stroke in 2002, and I was staying with him for a couple days, Tom came over and spent the evening with us. That was the most time I ever spent with him. He was an opinionated, crusty but very loyal guy and he loved my daddy.
Tom lived large - his family biz was Henningsen Construction, building steel buildings and asphalt roads. He was a pilot and he and Jody spent lots of time in the Bahamas in the winter. They loved to sail too. He liked to hunt and drink - a man's man who loved ladies and hunting dogs - and his family.

Paul and I are heading to the memorial service tomorrow - mostly to be there for my friend Robyn. I will also enjoy seeing my parents' friends - the ones that are left. I'm looking forward to that hug from Rob.

Post Script - after the Memorial Service and gathering in Tom's honor at the Airport

The hugs were worth the trip, and I was honored to represent the Bullocks at these events. Rob is looking good and she and sis Karla were watching out for their mother. Jody is now settled into Heritage House, and she expressed concern that she'll be lonely - I hope her friends remember to stop to see her and take her to lunch etc. Karla looks good - and we talked about cooking and food, as she asked about Cindy's son Colby.

The Henningsen girls Lynn and Christie still look the same - attractive women - both live in Florida these days. Their brother Mike has lived in Atlantic for a long time - his youngest daughter Beth played sports against Amy. I talked to her - she's in Phys Therapy school at Iowa - will graduate next December.

The Oakmont Condo was well represented - we got to see:

• Don Reinertson who was our longtime neighbor at 202 Crombie - his wife Rosemarie died years ago and he has hooked up with Betty Gee - another longtime friend of my folks. It was fun reminiscing with Don about their family and how I enjoyed playing at their house - the pool table and the wonderful electric box Don's brother built so we could play Jeopardy.


• Jim and Suzanne Klein - they played a lot of golf with my folks, and Jim said he thinks of Dad a lot


• Floyd and Edna Heithoff - Edna is turning 80 this year and all the kids will be back to celebrate, Floyd was such a good buddy to Dad - helping him move into and back out of Assisted Living


• Collete and Chuck Kinen - who lived downstairs from Mom and Dad, their daughter Lynn lives here with her family. They miss Dad and how he used to be the social reporter of the condo, checking in on everyone

In addition I saw

Carol Wilcox - who is the wife of dear Doc Wilcox - he birthed most if not all of the Bullocks. He used to make house calls (I recall the dreaded rectal thermometer on the "good" couch in the formal living room). And her daughter Tressa who is also a doc was there as well. Dwayne passed away years ago

Huey & Donella Ross - their daughter Barb said - Betsy you must go talk to my parents! I got called Betsy a few times - what is the name Leslie hard to remember?

I talked to Helen Hutchinson - didn't see Hutch her hubby - hope he's okay. Scott Deter was there.

The Tyler girls - Lou Ann, Amy Jo, and Janie - told me I resemble my mother, even my motions. It made me glad - not that I'm built like her, but that someone remembers her that well! Gone but not forgotten. Their brother Kirk was there too.

Don Henningsen - Tom's cousin, who also grew up with Dad, got there right towards the end. His beloved wife Barbie died this past year and he's not okay. He was glad to catch up and hear about the Bullocks.

My classmate Robin Kautz was the biggest surprise there - I'd fogotten he worked for Henningsen - 33 years now! Robyn had to whisper to me who he was, because I wasn't expecting him - and he had a beard. Like many who work outdoors - he looks old! I spose I do too - especially if I'm looking like my mother!

Bad to the bone

Or maybe I was just bad to the fingernail...of my little finger. My freshman year of high school, Mom got it into her head that I needed to experience college life - I needed to go stay with Cindo who was a freshman at Drake University.

So one Friday when Mom had a Iowa Hospital Association meeting in Des Moines, she dropped me off at Drake University. I even went to a class with Cindy (boring...) Her roomie was gone (strange girl who only wore bib overalls), so Cindy had a party in her room - the drinking age was 19? back then, but I was...15.

Cindy was dating a very cute guy named Doug Mustoe. They took me to a John Denver concert - not sure where. It was when "Thank God I'm a County Boy" was popular. Yep, I know, I got to see all the good singers. My folks took Bets and me to the Carpenters at the Iowa State Fair one year too.

Then next night was party time. We played Chug-A-Lug - the drinking board game and I drank few beers. It was the first time I ever got tipsy. I remember being so surprised at how much one had to pee when imbibing in brewskis. And I recall (this was 1972) that Cindy had that hunky poster of Mark Spitz in his swim suit with all his Olympic medals on his chest. Yum.

Cindy got me a fake ID. It was her friend's license. Back then - a license was just a piece of safety paper with your description printed on it. So I quickly memorized who I was. We went to Peggy's - a Drake hot spot. My first bar!

I don't think Cindy let me drink too much - I don't recall puking or being hung over or anything. So that was a nicely supervised first drinking experience! My big sis - always looking out for me. (just like when she told me - "sex is fun - don't wait to have it!")

Walking on the wild side

My wild child buddies - clockwise from 8 o'clock - Robbie Dob, Chris Watson, me, Pammy, Sal and Jules

Chris Watson

Sal - around 6th grade

As much as I pretend my sis Bets is the goody two shoes of the family, I've not been much of a wild child either. Except for a couple times. One of them I'll blame on Sally.

It happened my freshman year of high school. I was still trying to find myself - who was I? Who were my friends - kids I knew from preschool? Or kids from the other grade schools in town? Was I a good girl? Or a wild child?

Sally discovered boys by our frosh year - and they sure found her. She liked a couple hoody guys her that year - Steve Comes and Tab Gaines. Both older, both with cars. Both from the "other" side of the tracks. Me - I was built - welp much like I am today. Flat, and curves but not in the best places. Not a guy magnet me.

I plunged into high school life - Espanol with Senior Seufert, Geography, Honors Algebra and English. I alternated friend groups - keeping busy. One weekend my horsey, swimming childhood friend Sally asked me to stay all night. Then she sprung the news on me that we were sneaking out so she could meet up with her current honey Tab (I think??). Her parents did not approve of the guy. They did like me a lot though.

So of course I got a lil sleepy awaiting the witching hour (I'm trying to paint myself as the reluctant bad-ass here, but hell, I could have been all for it - I don't remember all that part). Sally's room was in the basement - which made it easy to creep out after Wayne and Anna Day went to bed. We walked a couple blocks and met Sal's man in the car at the pre-approved time (pre-cell phone - we had to rely on watches...).

Then we cruised - ironically out past the very barn where we kept our horses, down a dirt road to a camping site by the Nishna Botna River. Chris Watson was there with her BF Dave Popp (or the Popper). Other assorted hoodlums were there - I was out of my league. People were eating frozen pizzas cooked over a campfire. I found out the pizzas had been stolen from the Schwann's warehouse up the road! Argh - I nearly choked on the purloined 'zas!

Sally went off to make out with her man, and I was stuck sitting there with his much older brother. Not much to talk about. Didn't want to get to know him! Couldn't wait to leave. Soon it was time to skedaddle (not sure of spelling, but it means get out of there). Tad (or Steve, just can't remember which one it was) dropped us off a few blocks from Sal's house and we began to hoof it. It was around 2 a.m. Before we got to her house, a blue Chevy Caprice with a white roof began to drive toward us. Gulp! - Wayne Rodgers in his Walnut Grove car. Busted!

He didn't say much that night. He didn't have to. I felt awful. He and Anna Day were two of my favorite people in the whole world. And I let them down. Of course we lied and told them we had been out tee peeing with Robyn. My parents made me go apologize to the Rodgers the next day - a very difficult thing to do!

Scared straight...that episode was enough to scare me straight! I quit hanging out with that particular group of people, and began to pal around with Chris D and Paula. Sal stuck with her wild ways - giving her a very bad rep - through sophomore year. And she dated bad boys throughout high school. She and I hooked up again as pals in college, after the teen angst years. Tomorrow night - another exciting episode of Leslie in the AHS years.

Olympics

Watchin' the Olympics reminds me of my first skis. Guess they were actually my only skis. Same as the Olympians - Atomics. I called 'em my nuclear fission skis. I got them in Omaha at a sporting goods store before going skiing sophomore spring break. The smartest thing I did was to get better boots (Nordica) than skis. I also got good bindings.

I guess my skis were probably as good as I was - not too. But they worked and hey, I never had to worry about them getting ripped off! I sure got my money's worth out of them - as I used them for ten years or so. Finally sent them out to the landfill a few years back - realizing they were probably a safety hazard!

Those skis were pretty good to me - helping me to avoid any serious falls. In fact I didn't fall much at all while skiing. Cuz I'm chicken shit! We of course skied differently with the guys than we did when it was just us gals. We liked shooting up through the trees - sometimes we'd get off the beaten path, where one could actually suffocate in snow if one fell just wrong in the loose packed snow.

When we were with the guys, we liked to find "jumps". They were just bumps we could ski over quickly to get some air time. One of the most memorable times we had skiing was at a smaller resort called A-Basin - knee high powder and short lift lines made for a fantastic day on the slopes.

One other memory I have from our ski trips were the trips - the drives out. The Olympics always bring back the infamous Wood River stay. The year was 1982 (I think) - we took off in the evening, because everyone knows the only way to drive across NE is at night or drunk. (haha) Around Lincoln it began to snow. By Grand Island it was impossible to see - right past GI is Wood River and that's where we pulled off and got the last motel room, a double for 7 people. Vic, Fred, Pablo and me, Moose, and ?? not sure who else...

There was a truck stop across the parking lot and we ate every meal there for 2 days - the Interstate was closed! Some people were living at the truck stop as there was no room in the Inn. The Winter Olympics were on - pretty much our only entertainment. (we took to rating farts, much like judges for figure skating...)

Finally on the morning after the 2nd night in that awful motel, the Interstate opened up and we hit the road toward heaven - Winter Park and the slopes!

Piano (continued)

You didn't think there would be more from me on piano, did you? Like many people, I wish I would have stuck with it, and could produce beautiful music on a piano today. (instead of just part of Skip to my Lou)

My friend Chris D. from Atlantic can still play. I don't even know if/who she took lessons from when we were young. Mrs. DeWulf was another popular piano teacher in town. Chris even wrote her own music - not just plucked out one note at a time tunes. She was from the musical Deardorff fam - so it ran in her genes. (I had "Go Tell Aunt Rodie" in alto/bass Mom).

When our children were born, of course we got them musical toys - xylophones etc. When Amy was about 8, we got her a battery powered keyboard. It had programed tunes in it, but she also learned to play simple songs. She wanted more. I arranged for her to start piano lessons with Mrs. Elaine Neeley, a local music teacher. Amy took to reading music as easily as she learned to read. In no time she was beyond the range of her keyboard.

Listening to local radio KSIB (and that's a whole nother blog or two) one day, during the Trading Post portion of the show, I heard someone offer a piano for free- as long as someone would come and pick it up! My kind of price! I called the number given (overcoming my phon-a-phobia for a good cause) right away and claimed it.

Paul arranged for his buddies to help him pick it up from some rural location, using Steve's pickup truck. All we had to pay was a few beers and pizza (that was our usual assistance payment) Of course we paid back folks by helping with their moving causes.

From what I recall, Paul said the piano was in a barn. It was covered with years of dust and some bird poop. It was missing some ivories and hadn't been tuned for many years. This finish was beyond help.

I decided it was spongeworthy - it was the 90's and I had sponge painted the dark paneling downstairs (at the old house). I used a cream color for the base and some pretty dusty rose and country blue. It came out pretty good if I do say so myself. The sound...not so good. So I called and arranged for the local piano tuner to fix 'er up for something like $60.

In the meantime, we had purchased some piano music for Amy beyond her own John Thompson type books. For some reason we got her the theme to Friends - the TV show. "I'll Be There For You". Forget an uninsulated basement - our house was open - the sound just shot up the staircase. She played that song over and over - it was her Cotton Blossom, her Skip to my Lou.

Amy learned a great deal from Mrs. Neeley - who was no Mrs. Sandhorst. Early on I would stay and read in the front room of her older two story home, while Amy had her lesson. Mrs. Neeley was married and had a red haired heavyset music prodigy son Eric who was a couple years older than Amy. Amy made us proud at her first recital, out at a music room at the college.

One day I dropped Amy off at Mrs. Neeley's door and ran home, planning to pick her up in a half hour. Amy showed up hoofing it the 5 or 6 blocks from Neeley's about 10 minutes later. Mrs. Neeley wasn't home! The next week we tried again - nobody home. We'd gotten blown off.?

I called Elaine after that - and found out she'd moved out of the house and was getting a divorce! Color me shocked. Amy went to a few lessons at her new home on Walnut Street, but it just wasn't the same. And Amy was getting into the saxophone - so she gave piano up.

We left the sponged piano at the old house when we moved - it couldn't have made the turn on our staircase here. And it wasn't an upstairs piano. I gave the piano away the same was I got it - on Trading Post. The new owners were delighted to get it.

Piano

Not sure what got me thinking about piano lessons this week. Perhaps it was hearing a piano player at Von Maur - the department store a couple times lately. Yeah, right, I sounded like that. NOT

The Bullock girls - Susan thru Leslie took piano lessons from Mrs. Sandhorst, my classmate Tom's mother (Tommy was the kid who peed around the floor tile clock in Kindergarten - Mrs. Christensen wasn't happy). I think Cindy also had a Sandhorst classmate (Nancy? - don't believe any peeing by her, at least in public).

The Sandhorsts lived in a modest home just a few blocks from our house. I started taking lessons in third grade. In decent weather, I would put my piano books into the white wicker basket (I ditched the plastic flowers) on my cool stingray bike and pedal over for my lesson.

At Mrs. Sandhorst's, the piano was in the front room - complete with a metronome on top. At first I was so thrilled to be doing what my big sis's were doing, making beautiful (maybe not...) music. Then practicing got to be a drag.

We had to do scales of course and learn to read music. We also had John Thompson piano music booklets - they were red. Oh how I loved some of the songs in those books. Of course I would sing along.

Our piano was in the playroom. Not sure why Mom and Dad didn't ever insulate that sucker - the playroom that is. You could see the floor joists - and the sound would just shoot right upstairs to the bedrooms from there.

When I was young, I didn't even consider the sounds I was producing. But the whole noise thing was distinctly brought to my attention when home from college, sleeping in with a hangover. Betsy was in the high school musical - can't remember the name. Bets was always an early riser, so there she was playing "Cotton Blossom" over and over again, singing along. Arghhh Betsy took lessons from my classmate Candice Drake.

Back to my piano playing days. I was happy to learn to play the ol favorites - that song you play with your fist. Chopsticks. And I like dinking around on the piano. But I was petrified about playing for recital! I'm proud to say I can still play a bit of one of my recital songs - Skip to my Lou - cross handed. I think Mrs. Sandhorst through me a bone there and gave me an easy song. By sixth grade, Mom realized I wasn't into it. I wasn't ever going to be Liberace. I was into horses and sports. She got tired of fighting the practice thing. So she let it go.

I never did learn to play the guitar, like Susi did at Camp Lake Hubert and lessons in Atlantic. Or the ukulele like Cindo did - it's on her wall at her house as a decoration now. I did enjoy Dad's bongo drums though- they were in the closet under the stairs. And that zippy zither fish thing he got in Mexico - it had ridges on it and you could run a stick across it to make noise. I wish I would have gotten a drum set - I coulda rocked at that - but looking back, the uninsulated playroom would not have been good for drums!