I WANT MY PACIFIER! 

    The other day when contemplating our current sad political situation, I thought of something that had happened in church some time ago. Sitting on the other end of our pew was a young family. Mother, father, and small child. This child was slurping on a pacifier. The mother had sent the husband out with a bottle of some substance, probably to warm it up or do to it whatever this liquid required. 

  Shortly after the father exited the pew the baby spit the pacifier from his mouth. It dropped to the floor, took a couple bounces and a little roll, which put it out of reach of the mother. 

   The child immediately went into a screaming fit. And it wouldn’t quit. If it had been able to speak it would have been screaming, “I want my pacifier.” 

  The child was not to be consoled. He obviously wanted that pacifier back. The screaming was disruptive to say the least. The baby didn’t seem to care. His only concern was about what he wanted. He didn’t care about the embarrassment he was bringing to his mother, to the rest of the congregation, and to the preacher. 

  Obviously, what he wanted was his only concern. Nothing else was of any consequence. He didn’t care, nor of course was he mature enough to realize that the opinion of other parents toward his mother was sinking lower by the second. Nothing mattered except what he wanted, completely ignoring the unreasonableness of his demands. 

  I hear you saying, but he was just a small child. An adult would never act that way.

  

  REALLY? 

  

  Anyway, like I said, that just came to mind. For some reason.

Dixie Peach Pomade 

    A mind that has been around as long as mine does some strange and wonderful things, or maybe not. 

    I was sitting at my desk thinking about the plot to a story I am writing when the remembrance of Dixie Peach Pomade slithered its way into my thoughts. Why you ask? I’ve no idea. For those men who can recall the 50’s you will probably remember Dixie Peach Pomade. I don’t know how widespread its use was, but in the Northwest is was a must have for cool teenage boys, or men, as we knew we were. 

    Fifties hairstyles were such that we needed help to keep those ducktails in place. That is just one style example. Think Fonzie in Happy Days. 

    Now Dixie Peach Pomade was a substance much like Vaseline salve, with something in it to make it smell more like aftershave than something medicinal. It was nearly the same consistency. I would rub it into my hair and then comb that hair into whatever style I wanted, and it would stay. Much like a heavy application of hair spray today. 

    The only thing that I had to remember was to not put my head against anything I did not want to get greasy, and to stay away from open flames. But once applied that ducktail would stay in place whatever I did. 

    I see that the product is still out there. I wonder who is using it and what are they using it for?