tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64754782024-03-16T12:47:23.330-04:00Whole BeanRichard W. Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218466003423381304noreply@blogger.comBlogger263125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475478.post-6544021322623239422024-03-15T10:57:00.015-04:002024-03-15T18:20:47.448-04:00The Chocolate SetMy mom and her husband had finally decided to sell their farmhouse just outside Jackson, Tennessee. Set way back from the road, it had always been a favorite destination of ours, one where we'd shared many warm and wonderful family times. But in recent years, my folks had been spending most of their time in Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg, way over in East Tennessee, so they felt it was time get whatRichard W. Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218466003423381304noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475478.post-75165490707268263432023-03-14T16:34:00.004-04:002023-03-14T18:39:06.096-04:00In Living Color "The following program is brought to you in living color on NBC."Words like those, heard often on American TV back in the 1960s, signaled that the program about to be aired was something special. Instead of being broadcast in black and white, those of us lucky enough to have a color TV would be treated to a veritable video rainbow. It sounds comical nowadays, but back then, a color TV was Richard W. Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218466003423381304noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475478.post-16090279889426042762023-02-15T14:35:00.007-05:002023-02-15T17:59:48.599-05:00The Three KrogersThere's a popular meme afloat these days that reads something like, "I'm at the place in my life where running errands counts as 'going out'." I think that if we were all to be honest with ourselves, this is actually the case for many of us, particularly since the Covid lockdown. But there's a grain of truth to this adage, in that we really don't have to explore too far to satisfy our need for a Richard W. Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218466003423381304noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475478.post-87224466340095747042023-02-07T17:52:00.007-05:002023-02-07T22:47:42.279-05:00Life by the NumbersOne of the things that drives many visitors or new residents crazy about our fair city is the preponderance of street and place names containing the word "Peachtree." As of late 2021, there were 71 streets in the Atlanta area bearing that name or some derivative of it. If I just think off the top of my head to streets which I travel on a normal basis, I come up with the following:Peachtree Richard W. Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218466003423381304noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475478.post-76581786194911561842022-07-28T17:04:00.006-04:002023-02-15T14:47:55.887-05:00Georgia Driver's GuideEvery region or municipality has its share of, shall we say, unique driving skills. Today, I'd like to focus on those that are noteworthy in the region I've called home for 40 years, the state of Georgia. I'm sure that many of these practices exist in your area as well, so it's important to note that I'm not just picking on Georgia. I am, after all, one of its drivers.For the sake of brevity, andRichard W. Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218466003423381304noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475478.post-21362941619373884732022-05-04T14:18:00.011-04:002022-05-04T18:08:31.962-04:00Breaking the Sour Cream BarrierI am that rare individual who possesses a California birth certificate and yet does not care much for avocados. I'm often asked, and these are the exact words, "How can you be from California and not like avocados?" Well, I only lived there full-time when I was a wee tot, and back in those days, Angie Dickinson had not made those 1970s commercials that resulted in the avocado becoming an object Richard W. Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218466003423381304noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475478.post-12410067813010741482022-04-13T15:32:00.004-04:002022-05-04T14:22:09.449-04:00Presentation SkillsWhen I worked for Macy's Technology, I had something of a reputation for preparing and leading meetings. I stretched PowerPoint to its limits and always tried to make presentations aesthetically pleasing or, in some cases, humorous. My feeling was that if you were going to have to sit through an hour (or more) long meeting, it might as well be entertaining. There is absolutely nothing more boringRichard W. Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218466003423381304noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475478.post-76802637868220943322022-03-22T15:00:00.010-04:002022-03-22T18:01:40.817-04:00Splendor on the BypassThat night in 1962, my dad and I were on a mission. As we made the five-minute drive from our house to Summer Center, I once again pulled out the piece of paper which my teacher had provided to each class member and quickly reviewed its instructions. We were to purchase one clear glass candle holder and a single red candle. Then, we would bring our candles and holders back to the classroom, whereRichard W. Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218466003423381304noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475478.post-32212948876712403352021-05-13T12:13:00.017-04:002021-05-13T14:59:42.649-04:00Pigskin PanicA while back, I was listening to the "Fresh Air" podcast on NPR, and host Terry Gross was introducing one of my favorite writers, David Sedaris. She mentioned that although Sedaris' writing generally tickles your funny bone, he also is not afraid to address subjects which may make readers uncomfortable. It occurred to me that my stories are typically innocuous, but to really stretch as a writer, Richard W. Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218466003423381304noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475478.post-50086420330621793372021-05-12T16:59:00.017-04:002021-05-13T11:34:41.317-04:00BloomfestI will go even in winter. The spring and summer crowds can be almost overwhelming, but Pike Nurseries (any of their multiple Atlanta locations) are possessed of a sweet dormancy in winter that is soothing to the soul. Sure, there are empty pots here and there, a few hopeful seedlings and generally a wayward tree or two that may not make it until May, but overall, there's one thing that you can't Richard W. Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218466003423381304noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475478.post-77349978435845239962021-05-05T13:50:00.012-04:002021-05-14T10:05:00.808-04:00Oh, It Looks Like Daniel, Must Be the Clouds in My EyesI noticed this morning that he hadn't played Words With Friends in quite a while. From time to time, people drop off, so I checked Facebook, and there I saw my happy birthday message to him in February. But right above it was another post made two days later that read, "Happy belated heavenly Birthday." I had to stop for a while to gather my thoughts.I remember clearly the day I met Daniel Richard W. Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218466003423381304noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475478.post-34301230573144401242021-05-04T14:45:00.007-04:002021-05-04T18:09:17.515-04:00Sonic BoomI'm "of the age" where I've discovered that my hearing (among other senses) is not what it used to be. Of course, my family and friends have been telling me for years that my hearing was on the fritz, but I didn't really believe it was all that bad; that is, until I started noticing that I couldn't even hear conversations at restaurants unless the person was sitting directly across from me or to Richard W. Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218466003423381304noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475478.post-46422705685893708432021-01-25T17:32:00.012-05:002021-01-25T22:00:41.063-05:00Les dangers du poisson grilléThe best fish I have ever eaten was a marvelous plate of swordfish at Hugo's Lighthouse in Cohasset, Massachusetts. The worst was some dreadful mackerel from a sushi sampler at Yagura Ichiban in L.A.'s Little Tokyo. In between, there have been many other fish dinners, and fortunately, they've typically been on the good side. Being married to a Bostonian gives me the occasional opportunity toRichard W. Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218466003423381304noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475478.post-64836716292644459482019-01-29T15:27:00.002-05:002021-05-13T15:09:39.088-04:00The LibesIt's good these days to hear about my alma mater, Northwestern University, even if it's just in passing. This past Sunday evening, I was shopping at Publix, and as I was searching for the perfect slider rolls, I overheard a conversation between a woman and a man, two friends who had run into each other buying groceries in advance of a predicted winter storm.The woman's daughter was a senior in Richard W. Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218466003423381304noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475478.post-72736552811037824082018-11-06T10:12:00.000-05:002018-11-16T14:53:15.784-05:00Herbert's HabitsEvery afternoon at precisely 6:00 PM, regardless of the weather or planetary alignment, Herbert Evans would stop whatever he was doing and observe Happy Hour on the front porch of his home high atop the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina. Herbert lived at the highest point on Big Ridge Road, and from his front porch, you could gaze out over the crest of the mountains. The view was beyond Richard W. Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218466003423381304noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475478.post-52314945658542228812018-10-25T15:14:00.000-04:002018-10-25T15:30:59.445-04:00Sears Had Everything
The "Walton" Craftman house plan
The first news item that I read last Monday morning was that Sears was filing for bankruptcy. The news is certainly not a surprise at this point, but still, I'm a Baby Boomer, and for generations before mine, and even the one following, Sears was an institution. A jingle years ago said, "Sears Has Everything!" Even though the company was sued over this claim Richard W. Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218466003423381304noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475478.post-56689542139276742522018-09-22T11:55:00.004-04:002022-10-28T16:56:04.689-04:00The Black SheepEvery family has at least one member for whom conformity to the perceived norm is simply too much of a stretch. In our case, there was one quite memorable black sheep: my Uncle Clay.
Clay Wells was a Navy man who married my great Aunt Mary and thereby became part of our family. There's no denying that Clay marched to the beat of a different drummer, yet he was an upright, honorable man with a Richard W. Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218466003423381304noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475478.post-4775517453964269642018-09-14T09:15:00.000-04:002018-09-21T16:05:13.969-04:00I've Got My Hands Full Over Here
The cleaning people were coming to our house this morning, so I started collecting items to take with me to the coffee shop where I'm now sitting. On cleaning days, I head to the shop at around 8:00 AM and remain there until around 10:00, when the cleaning is usually completed. About an hour ago, I packed my laptop and all its accessories and then started gathering everything else: walking shoesRichard W. Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218466003423381304noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475478.post-87177501609344534002018-07-24T11:33:00.001-04:002018-07-25T14:27:59.255-04:00Listen to All That QuietnessI don't think my father ever realized that he was a wordsmith of sorts. I've mentioned before on this blog how he liked to subvert normal usage and pronunciation of common words, and I'm sure it was all in good fun, but he really did seem to enjoy uttering profound, folksy statements at just the right time. One day, while vacationing in Hot Springs, Arkansas, we turned off the Chevy and Richard W. Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218466003423381304noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475478.post-72712144600301273872018-06-15T16:09:00.001-04:002018-06-16T11:52:52.091-04:00Doing Shots with Mickey MouseFor some unknown reason, I can remember events that happened many years ago with remarkable clarity. I cannot recall exactly what it is that I need to pick up this afternoon at the grocery store, but I can remember exactly where I was, and what toy I was playing with, when I heard that John F. Kennedy had won the 1960 Presidential election. It makes no sense, but it comes in handy sometimes.
Richard W. Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218466003423381304noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475478.post-12574954101014223762018-05-23T17:28:00.002-04:002018-06-01T08:35:13.573-04:00Mrs. Keltner and the LightningOf all the awe-inspiring forces of nature, lightning is my least favorite. I am genuinely terrified of its potential for sudden destruction, and I will do almost anything to avoid going outside when it appears. But it wasn’t this way before 1963, the year I started third grade.
Mrs. Keltner was our third grade teacher, and if memory serves me correctly, she was a fairly nice lady. She reminded Richard W. Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218466003423381304noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475478.post-80021882495793581922018-05-22T16:59:00.004-04:002018-06-01T08:34:39.516-04:00True ColorsI found myself in an odd, but strangely familiar, situation today. I had eaten a healthy steamed chicken and broccoli entree for lunch, but I was still hungry, so about two hours later, after a bit of light shopping, I stopped by a McDonald's drive-thru, then pulled over into a parking lot to eat my second lunch, because honestly, I just couldn't wait any longer. That alone was bad enough, but Richard W. Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218466003423381304noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475478.post-4967872175976268572018-05-01T18:46:00.000-04:002018-06-01T08:34:18.064-04:00Wired
We relocated to Atlanta from Chicago in 1982, and we have been here since, except for two years in Charlotte, North Carolina, in the mid-90's. As soon as we returned to Atlanta after our time in the Tar Heel State, we located and put a contract on a house in a neighborhood that we'd always had our eyes on. It was in an excellent school district, which was very important to us. Plus, it was onlyRichard W. Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218466003423381304noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475478.post-38858080756876843142018-03-15T16:42:00.001-04:002021-05-11T18:09:47.906-04:00Press Hard
It's interesting how things come and go. The compact disc was released in 1982, and sales of the medium peaked in 1999. Yet here we are, only 36 years since its debut, and the compact disc is very quickly becoming a thing of the past. A recent article from Digital Trends indicates that Best Buy will stop selling CD's on July 1 of this year, and other major retailers are rumored to be consideringRichard W. Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218466003423381304noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475478.post-9575576623407686622018-03-13T11:21:00.001-04:002018-03-15T17:17:14.731-04:00Put Another Dime in the MagnavoxToday at lunch, I stopped by McDonald's, and as I walked in, pianist Floyd Cramer's rendition of "Green Green Grass of Home" was playing. I thought immediately of my dad, because Floyd Cramer, of whom many people these days have probably never heard, was one of his favorite artists.
Although not a musician himself, my dad had a fairly broad interest in music (guess where I got that from). HeRichard W. Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218466003423381304noreply@blogger.com