The Lone Ranger, Tonto, and Dad.

I was born, my Father's Son, in December 1949. When my eyes could finally focus, I'm sure I could see my brother Johnny looking at me...he being 19 months already. As the early years passed, Johnny and I were inseparable...me, because I wanted it... he, because he had no choice. We lived in the Bronx in the 50's..before the White Flight to the suburbs. We shared a bedroom with my older sister in a small apartment on the second floor at 1468 Bryant Avenue...not far from the Bronx Zoo. There was a grocery store across the street which was owned by a Cuban gentleman. My Dad took me there once to buy himself cigarettes. I stood by his side, staring at a strange, stick-like plant just outside the store entrance. "Sugar Cane," the man said. It was the greenest thing I ever saw. "How much?" Dad asked
"5 Cents"
My Dad took a nickel from his trouser pocket and pushed it across to the grocer.
The old Cuban took what I guess was a small Machete and lopped off about a foot of the cane and handed it to me. I took it home in a death grip to show my brother.
"Look what Daddy bought for me!"
"What is it?
"Sugar!" I said.
"Looks stupid"
"You're Stupid"
Dad looked over and said: "Stop it, the both of you.. Johnny, when we go to the movies tomorrow, You can have the big popcorn".
"We're going to the movies?"
"Yep,  the Lone Ranger and Tonto on the BIG screen
THE LONE RANGER AND TONTO!
AT THE MOVIES!

Television westerns were my life at 6 years old. Johnny and I would sit with Dad and watch every possible episode of The Lone Ranger or Hopalong Cassidy . My Brother and I had no idea that the plots were so thin and predictable. The entire story had to start, develop the crisis, and resolve all in 21 minutes with a break for Wonder Bread and Skippy Peanut Butter. But just before the Big
ending, Dad would say:
"Watch this...the sheriff will see the smoke signal Tonto sends and show up with a posse to save them"
"How do you know?" I asked.
Dad just smiled and said.."I wrote this one."
Sure enough, it happened..just as Dad said. I thought he was a genius.

The next day finally DID come and me and Johnny and my Dad went off to the movies, which was under the elevated subway on Southern Boulevard. In those days, they showed 2 movies, 4 or 5 cartoons AND a newsreel. You never checked the movie times..you just went. If you came in after the feature was started, you just stayed to that point when they showed it again, up to that point. That is where the expression, "This is where I came in" comes from.

So, moving ahead, we are watching The Lone Ranger and Tonto in some exciting adventure IN COLOR...and of course, Tonto, MY HERO, has to go into town to spy for the Lone Ranger. As luck would have it, the town bullies spotted him and yelled:
"Look! a dirty thievin' Redskin!"

Whoa. Wait a minute, I thought..that's Tonto,...he's GOOD.

"Let's string him up! " "Get a rope!"
I started to cry...
Tonto...MY HERO..!
I looked up at my Daddy. But he was watching the screen .
I started to sob.
My Dad looked down at me and saw the tears streaming down my enormous beaver cheeks. He put his arm around me and leaned over and said:
"Don't worry...The Lone Ranger will come into town and save Tonto"
I couldn't catch my breath..."Are you sure?":
My Dad smiled and said: "I'm sure.  I wrote this one:"
Sure enough...The Lone Ranger rode in on Silver...Six Guns a'blazin.. and shot the rope that was starting to hang his friend...Tonto jumped on the back of Silver, and off they rode.
"Daddy?"
"Yes?"
"I'm glad you wrote that one"

After his 80th Birthday, my Dad was in the habit of saying "All I want to do is live to 90. That is older than anyone in my family ever lived ".

On his 85th Birthday he said:" I just want to make 90...after that, I don't care"

My Dad, John Henry McRedmond Jr., passed away in December 2012.

He was 90.

Turns out....He wrote this one, too.

   Happy Father's Day, Dad.

DAY IS DONE

 Many people confuse Memorial Day with Veterans Day. Originally called Decoration Day, it was created after the American Civil War to pay respect to those that died on either side of that conflict, Americans all.
Because no one could forsee any further wars, it was only later that those who died in future conflicts would be included in the renamed Memorial Day.

Veterans Day honors those who served in any of our Armed Forces, whether in the past or currently.

Unfortunately, all of these important dates have evolved into a reason to hold retail sales and long weekend barbecues without a thought of the ultimate sacrifices made by those  for whom the day was intended. It is human nature to take our freedoms for granted....who wants to dampen anyone's Holiday by mentioning the price these brave men and women have paid?

I am guilty of this myself. But on Monday I will take a moment to face the Flag which flies at my house each day of the year and be humbled. If only for a moment.

                                                TAPS

                Day is done,
                gone the sun,
                from the lakes 
                from the hills
                from the sky,
                all is well,
                safely, rest,
                God is near. 

REMEMBERING MY MOM

I couldn't even see the numbers on the phone, the tears had pooled up in my eyes to blur the keypad. It was the late summer of 2003, my youngest son, Jesse, had been wounded in Iraq... halfway around the world from me.
"Hello"?..Mom answered in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.
"Mom? It's Tommy.... Jesse was wounded in Iraq yesterday."
"Is he okay?" she asked.
"I think so..the Army called and left a message with Aubrey"
"Keep us posted, please...I will pray for him"....I WILL PRAY FOR HIM.....Mom always said that in times like these..We all say things like that, but I knew that some time that evening my Mom, a deeply religious woman, would get down on her knees and say the words she knew would reach her God to protect her Grandson, and by extension, Me.

Mom was born Susanna Marie deSeve on February 4, 1923 in Astoria. She graduated from nursing school on D-Day,1944. She would work only briefly as a Nurse until she began to raise a family. We moved from the Bronx to Old Bethpage when I was seven and Mom hit the ground running....  organizing, decorating, managing a household that would one day have 6 children crawling, crying, jumping, laughing, bitching and moaning.

She was there for me when I would come home bloody and scraped, or when Bobby Hilsby and I stepped into a bee's nest, or beat the piss out of each other.

She was the worst driver I have known...we called her Susie boom-boom because she hit everything. She would drive with her hands thru the steering wheel of her Cutlass,..  holding a cup of tea.

Her idea of serving Italian food was 3 cans of Franco-American Spaghetti.
She was a terrible cook...but would never miss making each of us a birthday cake.
On Lincoln's Birthday she would make a Log Cabin out of chocolate cigarettes and place it on top of a cake.

We gave her a surprise birthday party for her 60th, and she walked thru the doors as Jan and Dean sang:
"IT'S THE LITTLE OLD LADY FROM PASADENA!"
A hundred of us screamed the chorus:  "GO GRANNY, GO GRANNY, GO GRANNY GO!"

She once told me to water her plants outside, and as I reluctantly did so, she came to the window to check on me through the screened window...I couldn't help myself, I sprayed her right in the face with the hose.
She screamed and slid the window closed. Then she went into the kitchen and filled up a metal bucket with water and called out to my kid brother Kevin:
"Kevin..."
"Yes?"
"Call your brother, tell him to come to the door".
Kevin went outside, and as luck would have it, saw only my older brother, John.
"Mom wants to see you"
Johnny went up the stoop and opened the front door...and was immediately drenched with a few gallons of ice cold water....... My Mother shrieked: "OH SHIT!"
And they were off to the races.., Johnny chasing her around the house and down the block, throwing toilet paper at her back.
What the neighbors thought?  Nothing...just Sue McRedmond carrying on with her boys.

She went back to work in the late 70's as a Terminal Care Nurse..nowadays they call it Hospice.          I always thought.."Thank God there are people like her"

She had to bury her youngest Son James, in 2004. It broke her heart.
She had to be helped to the coffin of her youngest sister Marie early in the 1990's, a tragic accident victim. It too broke her heart.
But She never lost her faith.

I went to see her in Pennsylvania in 2006, after hearing from my Dad that she had become very forgetful and sometimes didn't recognize some of the family.

When I walked in the door, she looked at me blankly and my heart sank. Then she reached for her glasses, blinked and said:
"Tommy!"
"Hi Mom"
It would be okay..this was my Mom.

Mom died in 2007. I miss her. If there's a twinkle in my eye, it's her fault.
6 Children
14 Grandchildren
13 Great-Grandchildren (at least )


Happy Mother's Day,  Susie Boom- Boom..... I miss you,....SAY A PRAYER FOR ME.

Like I have to ask...................

Terror Denial

Don't look for the Death Penalty to show its face at the future trial of the surviving Boston Bomber, since Obama is busting a vein in his efforts to keep the details of the terrorist training the little prick received for his Jihad.
It is no coincidence that the Stepinfetchit Attorney General Holder sent a Federal Judge to halt the interrogation once it became apparent that the truth about the terrorist training was about to unfold.

The Brutal Truth is that during Obama's watch there have been at least 2 serious terror incidences on U.S soil....the Fort Hood massacre...and the thwarted Times Square bombing attempt.  Obama denies and refuses to call either of these "Terrorist Attacks"

Just as J.Edgar Hoover swore up and down that there was "...No organized crime in America.." until Joe Valachi burst his bubble...sooner or later something is bound to happen to make Obama realize that we're not in Kansas anymore and his efforts are a dismal failure.

You can surround yourself with all the celebrities you want...but refuse to embrace the truth and we're left to pay the freight.

YOU CAN ROLL A TURD IN POWDERED SUGAR....IT'S STILL NOT A JELLY DONUT.

Really?

Believe it or not.....tomorrow, May 1st...is LABOR DAY in MEXICO.

R.I.P. Sheriff Taylor

Rest in Peace Andy Griffith--showed all of us what simple goodness was about...without cursing or swearing --sex or bathroom humor--or references to drugs or alcohol.

License? We don't need no stinking license !

California (Mexifornia) Police are no longer permitted to impound the cars of illegals found to be driving without a valid license.
Another coffin nail for those of us who live by the rules of law.

The car in the photo uses Oil of Ole'