ANOTHER YEAR... MARCHing on (Part155h)

ANOTHER YEAR… MARCHing on (Part 155h)

Alice was back to work prior to the ‘busy period’ which was a good thing. I’d called her almost every day she was out and she seemed to be in good spirits when I talked with her. She complained a bit about the headache and said she had an ugly bruise on her hip. A couple of times she told me she was ready to come back to work to get away from her mother but she wouldn’t let her, concerned about the headache. It makes sense today, what with the attention now being paid to concussions, but that was almost a foreign term back in those days. Sailing, I got hit in the head with the boom a couple of time, once enough to almost knock me overboard. I went to the hospital for stitches but nothing was mentioned about a concussion. Peggy had made a visit to apologize for the incident and one positive was that they found out that they shared some mutual friends. All in all everyone was glad to see her back and the takeaway was that there were lessons learned.

Bret and I called for a meeting of the tellers the day before the 'busy period' started. It was held in the area where the old bookkeeping machine (computer?) had been positioned. Tables had been added for additional work area but they were easily moved to accommodate small gatherings like the one I called for. It was to remind them that with the expected lobby traffic they would be under more pressure than usual. I had three tellers with less than six months experience and asked the ‘veterans’ to keep an eye on them. At the conclusion I told them they were free to go even though it wasn’t yet 5pm. I started to head back to my desk when Bret grabbed my arm and motioned for me to turn around. Alice was in the doorway to the coatroom and a few of the other tellers were standing there facing her. I couldn’t see much but I did notice Alice holding her blouse up with one hand and the waistband of her skirt down with the other. As we moved closer I got a quick glimpse of flesh… and a greenish/purple color. The others were “oooing and aaahhhing as they peered at the spot. Alice saw us moving in her direction so lowered her blouse, much to my disappointment.

The tellers quickly gathered their coats and made their way to the back door… with the exception of Alice. Bret teased her about “the show” and I watched her face flush with embarrassment. But only for a few seconds. I, still to this day, have no idea of her motivation when she offered to show us her bruise. She repeated the same motions and there before us was an ugly, egg shaped bruise about three inches across and almost two inches high on her hip. I can still picture it today… an outer fringe of yellow that turned quickly to a dark shade of green ending with a purple center. Out of no where I asked if wearing clothes hurt and she made a face that indicated that it did. But, always alert to the chance for a panty peek, I looked a little more towards her front and her navel. I saw two different elastics; one for her slip and the other for her panties. They were definitely not bikinis. I stored the image for contemplation later.

Putting herself back together she said it was hard to sleep as she was a restless sleeper and when she’d roll over on her left side she’d wake herself up. I made a point of thanking her for letting us view ‘the damage’ which brought forth more blushing. The three of us chatted a bit about the collision and Bret and I told her how we’d recreated it. She seemed surprised that we’d do such a thing but also appeared to appreciate the concern we’d shown for her well being. I remember her giving a special thanks to Bret for going to the hospital and being there until her mother arrived.

On my way home I got to thinking about Alice’s bruise and also seeing a bit of her panties. On the few occasions that there I'd been to see a bit of her panties they were bikinis. I remembered that Gina had worn full brief panties when with her period and thought that might be the case here. But then again, the location of the bruise was where the waist elastic of a pair of bikini’s would ride and that was a possibility for her choice. Not al that important, I know, but it helped me pass the time on my way home.

Other than a few “glitches” with the telephone lines which were used to transmit the data to the service center, I remember it being one of the best ‘busy periods I’d experienced. Hobie attributed it to the fact that with the new system using the service bureau the people in the lobby moved a lot quicker. However, he thought that was only part of it. With people not having to stand and wait as long they were a lot more civil and that meant fewer complaints, which always made it worse.

As for my ankle… staying off of it for those few days and then only using it judiciously after that had me in pretty good shape. I’d run into Jack, the coach, at the post office when I was still using the crutch a bit. He said he had an ankle brace that would help. I followed him back to the school and he ended up giving me a couple of them. He was right and by the time the ‘busy period’ was over I was about 90% pain free. It came at a good time as there were only four more days until Elle and I left for Florida.

The one thing that made me mad about the ankle problem was that I’d not been able to go on the inspection trip to visit the construction of the new branch. I still had lingering doubts about some aspects of it and had done my best to express them to both Hobie and Bret. Talking to Jerry was like talking to a wall. His mind was closed to any suggestions at all and he seldom offered up any of his own. Upon their return they, uniformly, agreed that it would be ready for occupancy by mid June. That meant the hoped for opening the last week of June would be met. The only thing I was directly involved in was in ordering the teller machines and working with the service bureau to get them connected. Jerry was given responsibility for staffing and supplies which galled the hell out of me. He had no experience in either field and I couldn’t get through to Hobie on it. However, Florida was my main concern as the busy period came to an end.

To be continued…

ANOTHER YEAR... MARCHing on (Part 155g)

ANOTHER YEAR… MARCHing on (Part 155g)

I felt someone from the bank should go with Alice but the ambulance people wouldn’t let anyone other than family ride with them. So… I gave Bret the keys to my car and told him to follow them to the hospital and I’d call the family. Having Bret go was the best chance of finding out anything as he knew quite a few people who worked there what with his wife having been a nurse there for many years.

As for Peggy, Jerry had gotten her back on her chair and with Laura, Lori and Liz they had calmed her down. After reaching Alice’s mother and updating her I joined the group hovering around Peggy. When it was apparent that she was injured (physically) I had the others get back to finishing up their work for the day. It was after 4pm and the general proof should have been done but wasn’t. I asked Peggy to join me at my desk. She was, initially, reluctant but it was probably the look on my face that told her she better do it. She followed me, riding her chair, face first, up to  the railing. I was next to my desk and turned around to see her still in the chair. Again, it must have been the look on my face that got her to get up and approach the side chair beside my desk.

I opened by asking if she was OK. She waited a few seconds before she answered with a comment about being embarrassed. However, she continued, saying that she knew she was wrong but that she’d been riding the chair like that for months and nothing had ever happened. She said it was sort of fun scooting back and forth from place to place in the chair. I’d watched her do it, on and off, and thought it was kind of cute, something that a young girl would do. I looked at her and it was hard to fathom that she was just 19 and both a widow and the mother of a one year old. She stated that she never did it when there were people in the lobby. Then I asked why she’d decided to go across the floor backwards. For the first time since she sat down a bit of a smile appeared as she said she could go faster that way. I remember taking a deep breath. It was obvious she was concerned about Alice and also that she was going to be scolded. I knew it was an accident so told her that her chair riding days were over. I told her that Bret was at the hospital and would let me know how Alice was doing. She asked if we didn’t hear anything before we left for the day if I’d call her to let her know. Of course I said I would and told her to go finish up her work so we could all go home.

I’d forgotten about my quick glimpse of her when she was being lifted off the floor. I’d seen a bit of discoloration between her legs and, as she walked away I could see that it had expanded to the size of a saucer across her butt. She made about six or so steps before she remembered and put one hand across her backside… but it didn’t hide much. I’m sure she wanted to sit back down on her chair when she reached it but after what I’d told her all she did was look sheepishly back over her shoulder as she grabbed the back of it and pushed it towards the drive up window area. What had been a very slow day had turned to be somewhat exciting… in more than one way.

I called Elle to tell her I’d be late and how I had to wait for Bret to get back with my car. She, in turn, told me she was supposed to go to a meeting next door to talk about the variety show Phyllis had proposed. I asked her why she was going and her answer was to hang up the phone. Typical! It was almost 6pm when Bret finally called with Alice’s mother there with him. Alice still was in her probationary period at the bank and didn’t have hospitalization. and The woman was frantic as the family didn’t have insurance. The mother was concerned about the cost of being in the hospital and I made an ‘executive decision’ and told her the bank would cover it. When I got Bret back on the phone I told him he could sign the necessary papers as he was an officer of the bank. It wasn’t until after that was settled that I found out about Alice.

There were no broken bones but there was a contusion on her hip and they said she'd have a large bruise. She also had a severe headache. They were keeping her in the hospital overnight for observation purposes. Bret got back to the bank soon after the phone call. While waiting for him I called Peggy. The first words out of her mouth… “I’m SOOOOO embarrassed!”. At that time I was thinking about Alice and it didn’t register that Peggy was talking about her wet spot. It took a few seconds to get on the same wave length and when we did she was probably even more embarrassed. When I told her Alice wasn’t going home she realized that she was ‘off topic’ and I could almost hear her embarrassment. After hanging up the phone I wondered what it would be like the next morning when I saw her.

At home I found the lights on but nobody home. Elle did leave a note that she’d taken the girls with her when she went next door to meet with Phyllis. Even though she’d hung up on me I did find my dinner in the oven so I didn’t go hungry. It was shortly after that she and the girls returned. I decided it would be best to not ask about what had transpired. After getting the girls put away for the night she wanted to hear about “the accident”. Since she knew Peggy she was more than casually interested and I was happy to avoid any mention of Phyllis and the variety show.

The next day Bret, Jerry and I tried to figure out just what had happened. We knew Peggy had pushed off from between the two fire safes heading back across the floor to the drive up window area. Laura had been the one closest to where the collision took place so she filled us in. Using Peggy’s chair (a secretarial chair, on casters) we had Corrine, who was about the same size as Alice, stand in the place where Peggy had collided with Alice. Pushing the back of the chair into Corrine’s side the metal frame was right at her hip bone which explained the contusion. Peggy admitted that she’d pushed off especially hard so as Alice walked by the opening she had no idea of what was coming her way. When we finished we were confident we could explain it to both Alice and her parents. 

To be continued…

ANOTHER YEAR... MARCHing on (Part155f)

To be continued...ANOTHER YEAR... MARCHing on (Part 155f)

As my luck would have it Pat (the PTA lady) decided to stop by. She’d been accosted (my word) by Phyllis to work on the variety show she’d spoken to Elle about at the ‘Olympics’. She had told her that Elle was organizing it. I was in the den on the sofa when I heard Elle yell “NO WAY!!!”. I was tempted to get up and head for the kitchen but a combination of vowing to stay of my foot and my dislike for Pat I stayed put. Pat was there for maybe a half hour or so and when she left Elle came in to tell me what had transpired. There was no doubt that Elle was upset and the only thing I could tell her was to stand up tall and just tell Phyllis “No!”, and forcefully. As soon as I finished speaking my piece I could see Elle’s mood changing. Choosing to keep my mouth shut at this point I watched as Elle proceeded to sit on the footstool with a concerned look on her face. I waited for her to speak and the words were basically the same as she’d spoken about Phyllis’ demands at least one time before. With Phyllis, the wife of the principal, and he being the one to choose teachers for both full time and as substitutes, she was afraid the “no” approach would pretty much lead to little or no work. I knew it was useless to say anything as no matter the outcome it would be my fault. She tried to get me to discuss it but all I would say was that we’d had the conversation before and it had to be her decision. When she got up and stormed out of the room I knew any chance for a reprise of the previous day was gone.

I went in to work on Wednesday reluctantly using the crutches. I got a warm welcome from Trish and Bret which was sort of unexpected. One reason for going in was it was the monthly Board meeting and one that was very important to me... as my salary adjustment was to be determined. Back when Jerry (the new branch manager) was hired in at a salary more than what Bret and I were making, we (I) made a bit of a fuss and a promise was made that the Board would make an adjustment during the next calendar quarter. For reasons that I never understood it was decided to change my anniversary date back to the date of my hire which was in September rather than the end of March which was when I became a permanent employee. I’d expected that there would be the adjustment for matching Jerry’s salary as well as my annual raise. I won’t deny that I’d thought about it a lot. I had set a figure in my mind that I thought was fair. However, even with Gee (the Trustee/attorney) on my side and as chairman of the salary committee all I got was the adjustment. The adjustment was a nice sum of money but it galled me that Jerry and I were now making the same amount and he reported to me. The only thing was that I could look forward six months and know I’d get my raise at that time.

With almost three months of the deposit accounting being done by the service bureau we had a pretty good ‘handle’ on what to expect when the busy period started. The service bureau provided us with some very interesting statistics one of them being the number of accounts that hadn’t had any activity since the switch over. It was almost 60%. I’d hoped that we could remove the old ledger cards from the fire safe located right behind the teller stations. We’d used them many times to show disbelieving depositors that the amount we transferred was correct. With that many customers who hadn’t yet been in I could just imagine how difficult it would be if we didn’t have the ledger cards available as proof. I’d envisioned using the space the safes occupied for more work area and to get the signature cards to a more accessible level. I was talking to Bret about it a few days after the Board meeting when we heard a combination of a scream and a cry. Bret had his back to the work area so he didn’t see what had caused it.

After 3pm, with the customers gone, we allowed the employees to get somewhat casual. Jackets could be removed by those wearing pants and there was some joviality among them. Peggy, operating the drive up window used a secretarial chair, on casters, as it was impossible to operate it while standing. She, being responsible for the school savings program, would need the records so, after 3pm she’d use her chair and scoot across the floor to the fire safes to access them. For whatever reason she didn’t see Alice who was walking by the opening between the two safes and ran right into her knocking her over and into a heap on the floor. When I heard the noise I stood up and saw Alice on her side with her dress (or skirt) up above her waist, light blue panties showing. Upon his arrival, Bret bent down over her trying to get her to answer him. Peggy had fallen off her chair but was sitting with a dazed look on her face. One of her legs was tucked up underneath her and the other splayed straight out. Bret made a mad dash over to them. I was still trying to avoid walking on the foot so kind of hobbled to the rail that separated the ‘platform’ from the work area. Alice still wasn’t moving but Liz (the auditor) had pulled her dress down. Jerry, who’d been working with one of the tellers, came through the opening between the two safes and helped Peggy up. As he did I saw some discoloration between her legs. The situation didn’t lead to ‘excitement’ as I was really concerned about the health of both.

I just stood and watched. I was pretty sure Alice needed to be looked at by some medical type person. Trish called the police who appeared at the front door (locked) in  no time at all. It took some pantomime motions to get them to go around to the back. By the time they got to Alice she was blinking her eyes but still lying on the floor. Laura had rolled up her jacket and put it under her head. The police called for an ambulance and in less than 10 minutes it was there. I was still standing at the railing, observing and sort of supervising. When they lifted her up to put her on the stretcher is when I got another peek at her panties... a confirmed light blue.

To be continued...  

A Pause... for the Holiday...

A Pause... for the Holiday...

As much as we like to promote good feelings and cheer during this time of year, the reality of it is that it actually brings more stress than anything else. So, to avoid that I've decided to take a few days off... from just about everything. With Christmas on a Sunday it means we get to take Monday off to recuperate from the weekend. With our middle daughter and granddaughter coming in to town on Friday night, I know I'll need it.

To my faithful readers. my hope is that you also will get time to recuperate... from the  year, the election, your job, your family... whatever. I also hope that the holidays find you and loved ones in good health and good spirits. Enjoy... and I'll be back in a few days.

NOTE: As in the past I'll post a couple of pics in tune with the season. They're fairly recent and I hope you enjoy them...

                       

ANOTHER YEAR... MARCHing on (Part 155e)

ANOTHER YEAR... MARCHing on (Part 155e)

Staying home had another (hidden) benefit. Without her older sisters around Kaye had my total attention. Elle appointed her as my 'nurse' and she just radiated happiness in the role. Her job was to periodically change ice packs for my ankle. It was funny because she didn’t understand the reason nor the process and every few minutes she’d come and ask if it was time for a new one. I was able to work with her on her alphabet and early level reading and that was rewarding. Around mid morning Elle got a call from Pat (the PTA lady) telling her that the final dollar tally had been over the goal of $250 but the equipment guy pledged a 10% discount if the school bought from him. By lunchtime Elle had her daily household chores completed. I’d never taken the time (or had the opportunity) to see just what she did when she was at home and I was impressed at her organizational skills.

We all ate in the den, usually a ‘no-no’, and when we were done Elle dispatched Kaye to go color me a picture. My patience in not pursuing the events of Saturday night paid off as she, willingly, offered to tell me about her conversation with Phyllis. As I’ve described her, a no nonsense, driven woman, she’d get an idea and then run with it even if it meant running into a few walls. After seeing the community acceptance of the ‘Olympics' she decided that she wanted to run a PTA variety show and wanted Elle to help her. Using the same ‘cause’ that Pat (the PTA lady) had used (raising money for gymnastics equipment) she visualized making as much as $500. She told Elle that she had all kinds of ideas that she’d used at the last school that her husband had been at. Elle said she was really on her ‘case’ about working with her. As Elle explained the program to me I just sat and listened knowing Elle’s disdain for getting up in front of people. However, when she said she thought she’d like to try it was a good thing I was already lying down.

The subject of Elle’s ‘accident’ never came up and I let it stay that way. After she put the kids to bed she returned in just panties and a pajama top. I was really pleased with how little pain I was in. I felt good enough to think about some extra curricular activity so made a suggestion that we might think about heading for bed a little early. I remember getting a coy smile in return. She did make a trip to the bathroom and returned with a damp spot between her legs. Feeling it was enough to arouse my latent desires she wanted to watch something on TV and told me I'd have to wait. I remember protesting and being told to have patience. I countered with a request for a picture. I hadn’t asked for any since Christmas and pointed that out to her. I got her usual reply... “I’ll think about it”.

I’d managed not to put any weight on the bad foot/ankle all day, hopping on my good foot when I used the bathroom, so it felt pretty good. I certainly didn’t want to screw up the gains I’d made so going up the stairs was going to be a challenge. I crawled from the couch to the hall closet to get the camera. I knew there was film in it because I’d bought some in anticipation of Easter morning. With the camera in my lap, I sat on the stairs and then ooched my way up, one at a time. I’d left Elle with her show just about over so sat and wondered just what was taking her so long to get upstairs.

When she appeared in the doorway she apologized. That didn’t make any sense as I was smiling as she walked in, The apology was for the fact that she’d wanted to wait to use the toilet until we’d had a chance to ‘play’ but when she stood up she had to make a dash for the downstairs bathroom. My mind went into ‘overdrive’ seeing her in a somewhat vulnerable position (in her mind only) so asked about a picture. She made a face but asked that it be a ‘back’ picture. That’s what she called pictures of her backside and of course I wasn’t going to complain. As much as I liked taking that kind of picture it wasn’t my main focus. I was looking forward to what I hoped would follow and I wasn’t disappointed.

The next morning I decided to wait a bit before going in to work. The week(s) before the busy period were always slow. Everything had been going smoothly on the teller line as the changes made right after the first of the year had pretty much worked out. Jaz had transitioned to the teller line rather seamlessly and Peggy continued to be happy in her dual role as both the drive-up and school savings teller. Lori, as chief clerk, was performing way better than I’d expected. The only problem was Jerry, the branch manager in waiting, who continued to march to his own drummer, often ignoring bank policy. Even after repeated reminders he would do it his way. Hobie had been little help in getting him to follow bank protocols. I gave up pointing it out to him choosing to just make notations on a pad hoping, eventually, to get Hobie to back me up. Weighing all of the above I called Bret around 10am to see how the day was going. When he told me there were no problems I decided to take another day off. I'd come to realize that if I’d done what the doctor had advised right from the beginning I’d probably be OK so wanted to try and make up for it. In truth, I was afraid the bad ankle would have a negative effect on Elle’s and my Florida trip. (I also wont deny that I was hoping for another day just like the previous one where I was the beneficiary of Elle’s good mood.)

To be continued...

As you can see, my efforts to salvage pictures from the crashed computer were worth the effort.

ANOTHER YEAR... MARCHing on (Part 155d)

ANOTHER YEAR... MARCHing in (Part 155d)

The scoring for this last contest was cumulative. Each player was timed and the cumulative time was added up to see which team was the winner. What I failed to mention in the last post was each participant had to remain blindfolded as they dribbled towards the basket. Then, after three missed shots the blindfold could be removed. Also missing from the original description was the fact that the shoes had to be on the right feet and the uniform had to be on right.

The participants really put on a show for the audience. The women were better at getting the uniform and shoes on but the men dribbled and shot better. To make it fair there were two males and two females on each team and they drew numbers to see what order and who they competed against. Elle drew the last number for the teachers. By her turn my ankle and foot were hurting as bad as it was right after I'd turned it... but I stayed to watch.

With my responsibilities I’d not had a chance to talk with Elle all evening. She hung out with her fellow teachers at one end of the gym while I was all over the place. When she went out to mid court for her turn the teachers were ahead by a little over a minute. Her opponent was a big guy, about 6’3“ or so. One thing I’d noticed was the taller the person, the harder it was to get the shoes tied. Some had tried to do it by bending over and they seemed to struggle. Elle got her uniform on, the right way, and then sat down to tie her shoes. She was off and dribbling her ball before the guy even started trying his. She lost her advantage when she had to shoot... and taking off the blindfold didn’t help all that much. The guy missed all three of his blindfolded shots (only one basket was made this way) but made his first shot which appeared to give the parents team the win. However, the judge at that end noticed that he didn’t have his shoes on the right feet and disqualified him. I’d been the mid court judge with the responsibility of starting each group so wasn’t involved in that decision. I’d kind of hopped on one foot down the court to see Elle and to console her as I thought she was upset that she’d cost her team the win. But, it wasn’t the loosing that had her upset.

We;d left the house at 6pm to deliver Kaye, our youngest, to Elle’s mother. After a short visit we, along with the other kids, headed for school. As it turned out Elle had gotten so caught up in the activities that she hadn’t used the bathroom. She realized it as she waited to compete in the last event while standing at mid court. She ended up leaking but thought she was OK with her combination of dribble panties and a sanitary panty. In retrospect, she probably wouldn’t have had a problem if she hadn’t sat down to tie her shoes. But, she did. It left her with two ‘smiles’ on her butt where she squeezed the pee out around the leg elastics of the sanitary panties. I’d missed it as I was monitoring the time for each. She didn’t know about it until after she’d finished and a female teacher told her.

It was while I was hearing about that when it was announced that her opponent had been disqualified and that the teachers were the winners. They were called out to get their ‘medals’ (sea shells painted gold) but Elle wouldn’t do it. She told me to flag down the kids and that she was headed home, with or without me. She was still wearing the uniform pants as she headed out the back door. I wanted to stay but I knew I’d need her help once I got home. Normally I would have concerned myself with her embarrassment but my ankle and foot hurt too much for me to feel badly for her.

There weren’t many words spoken between us once we arrived home. Elle got the kids to bed and then washed herself up. I took a bunch of aspirin, made up a wrap of ice to put on my ankle and settled into my recliner. Between the ice and getting my foot raised the pain was at least tolerable... tolerable enough to think back on the events of the evening. Pat (the PTA lady) had stated that the monetary goal was at least $250 but since we hadn’t stayed around, didn’t know if we'd made it or not. Another thing on my mind was to find out what Elle and Phyllis had been in such deep conversation about prior to the Olympics. I was hoping Elle would come down stairs so we could talk but she never did. I figured it was because she thought I’d pull out the old ”I told you so...“ as it pertained to her choosing to wear dribble panties instead of a ‘package’. I ended up falling asleep in the chair and stayed there all night, not wanting to crawl up the stairs in the dark.

I spent all day Sunday on the couch with my foot propped up. Elle wasn’t her usual self and I chose not to pursue the events of the previous evening. We did discuss my ankle and my growing fear that it would pose a problem for our upcoming Florida trip. She wanted me to take Monday off as a sick day and to go to see the doctor again. I’d only taken one sick day in the almost three years I’d been at the bank so I had plenty to use. The swelling had gone back down and I attributed that to staying off of it and icing it. I told Elle that going to the doctor was a waste of time and money because all he’d tell me was... to stay off it and to ice it... but I did agree to stay home.

I have to say it was a good decision. Elle warmed up once the kids were off to school. I was happy to see it but didn’t know how to handle it... until about mid morning when she came into the den with another ice wrap... and invited me to ‘visit’. She was still in her robe so I slid my hand between her legs and... it made  my morning! Patience turned out to be a virtue.

To be continued...      

ANOTHER YEAR... MARCHing on (Part 155c)

ANOTHER YEAR... MARCHing on (Part 155c)

There were four judges with Bill, the principal (and neighbor) as lead judge. I hadn’t seen much of him since Christmas but knew there was progress on his new house. During the time the exhibition was taking place I asked him if he thought it would be completed by the time school was out knowing his lease was up around then. Gruff, as usual, he snorted back something like “It better be!” While talking with him I saw Phyllis, his wife, talking with Elle. Actually, she was talking at her. I was interested to find out what that was all about. I pretty much knew it wasn’t about Barbara and her wetting as there were too many people around. Whatever it was she was pretty serious.

The tumbling exhibitions took longer than expected which meant the Olympics got a late start. The first one was a relay race using furniture dollies with really small wheels on the casters. The idea was to go from one end of the gym to the other and then let the person at the other end switch places and race back. Each team, made up of four people, had to make two round trips. The dollies were about one foot square. They’d been modified by attaching a piece of plywood to the top to give a bit of comfort (?). I was at the starting line and it was sort of funny watching one of the parents, a guy about 6’2“, trying to fit on the dolly. The teacher who he was competing against (a female) was only about 5’3”. She decided to lay on her stomach and to try and use her hands to pull herself across the floor. The guy got on his knees and was set to try to do the same. When the gal got down on the dolly I was rewarded with a ‘twofer’... a DP and VPL. All I really remember was her panties were a light blue.

When the “go” signal was given it didn’t take long for the fun to begin. It was obvious that the kids in the audience were solidly backing the teachers. It was also painfully obvious that this task was not an easy one. With no real grip of the floor both of them struggled with the teacher getting to the other end first. The teacher on the other end decided to sit on the dolly and to try try and propel herself by using her feet which meant she was facing the wrong way. Her path back to my end was snake like and she thought it was hilarious as did many of the kids. She lost her team’s lead and Elle was the one to go next. She chose to sit as well but did it facing forward so as to not replicate her predecessor. As she headed down the court I witnessed  what would’ve been a spectacular VPL if it had been someone else. From the waist band of her slacks to the bottom of her shirt was about three inches. For me, a life time panty peeker, seeing two waist elastics was something I was always looking/hoping for... and hers were very obvious to me.

Going straight was a definite advantage as she regained the lead and Johnnie, our teacher friend and Sandy’s husband used her technique to keep the lead and to with the first event. Next was a basketball shooting contest. Again it was four against four. However, on this one it was two males and two females on each team. What made this different from the usual was that the shooters had to have their backs facing the basket. The guys had to shoot from the foul line with the women  standing about three feet closer. Each shooter had two minutes. I think there might’ve been three basket in total... and two people who ended up with the ball hitting them on the head. The students thought that was really funny, however, the parents won.

The next was an old party game where each participant has a bat and then has to spin around a and then dribble a basketball to the backboard and to try and make a basket. The men had to spin twelve times and the women ten. Another laugher with one of the women participants laughing so hard after falling I thought she might’ve wet herself.

There was one contest for females only. Five on each team stood around the ‘key’ and one was handed a small tray with five objects on it. The ‘test’ was to see how many would fall off as they passed it from one to the other. The ‘catch’ was that when an object fell off that person had to go back and start again with people changing places each time. There was also a ten minute time limit which added to the stress. I had a fair share of DP’s and VPL’s as they had to stoop over to pick up dropped objects. One of them was a very cute teacher named Mary Anne. I was very sure she was wearing Lollipop cotton panties but not the band leg type. Twice, she dropped something right near when I was standing. There were some waist elastics that were easily recognizable and the Lollipop cotton panties were one in that category. They also gave off a fairly large VPL...

The male only test was an opposite had dribbling contest. When everybody signed up they had to signify that they were either right handed of left. It was also a relay race. They wouldn’t let Jack (the basketball coach) participate. I got a real ‘kick’ out of watching some of the parents struggle after listening to them bragging before they started. They lost!

The funniest game of the night was an obstacle race... run backwards. If anyone touched an obstacle they had to go back to start again. There were a variety of things to avoid but mostly large plastic trash bins. The course was designed so there was one area where both teams had to share space. That turned out to be the biggest obstacle.

The last contest of the night had the participants putting on a basketball uniform (top and shorts) and shoes (including tying them) while blindfolded. Once dressed they had to dribble from mid court and make a basket. The uniforms were large enough to fit over the clothes they were wearing. As they started there was a tie between the teachers and the parents with three wins each. This is where the kids in the audience were really loud. By then I’d been on my feet for a least three straight hours and my foot was killing me. If Elle hadn’t been a participant I would’ve headed for the locker room. But, I hung in there to see how she did.

To be continued...

ANOTHER YEAR... MARCHing on (Part 155b)

ANOTHER YEAR... MARCHing on (Part 155b)

The doctor determined there was no break and prescribed staying off the foot, keeping it raised and icing it. To stay off it meant crutches. That was almost more pain than the ankle. Since it was my right ankle I had to use my right foot to drive the car. That was also painful. The timing couldn’t have been worse since I was scheduled to go to the city to meet with ‘premium’ distributors... ‘premium’ meaning gifts we’d be giving out with the opening of new accounts at the branch opening in July. Even though it was only March it had been decided to get a head start to make sure we not only had really unique gifts but also a guarantee of availability. When the Trustees made the gift choices at the bank’s first gift campaign a few months earlier they made any number of mistakes. The biggest being purchasing a set number of gifts which we had to store on site. Without a basement the branch wouldn’t have the space to do the same. A smaller mistake was that when the program was over we owned all of the gifts that weren’t given away. My plan was to have the items drop shipped as needed. Bert (the president) had convinced the Chairman of the Board of Trustees to let the management team do all the ’leg work’ and then take their suggestions to the Board for approval. I’d been looking forward to the trip for any number of reasons but now it wasn’t possible.

From early March there had been a lot of activity on the PTA Olympics scheduled to be held at the school the last Saturday in the month. Pat (the PTA lady) had been working with a group of teachers who’d volunteered as well as the ladies who were a part of the ‘group’ who’d worked on getting changes made on the school board. I’d originally avoided involvement wanting to be a participant in some of the contests. However, with the ankle, that wasn’t going to happen. So, my participation was to be as a ‘judge’. After Pat and her ‘people’ had made their choices on just what the events were to be I tried to get Elle to tell me what they were... but she wouldn’t. The ladies had pledged not to tell anyone so as to keep people from practicing. I remember the sort of wicked smile on Elle’s face when I tried to get the information.

I didn’t miss any work but I was miserable not being able to get around all that well. In truth, I was walking way too much and after a few weeks there was still swelling. I kept my foot up on  my up side down wastebasket as much as possible but putting ice on it was impossible. At home, with Spring arriving momentarliy, I could see things that needed to be done around the yard which just added to my frustration. By the time I’d get home at night I wasn’t much fun to be around. As the date for the Olympics approached I began to worry that he ankle wouldn’t be healed when it was time for us to go to Florida.

There was one meeting the Thursday night before the event for all who had signed up. The main reason was that we had far more parents than we had teachers. There was a time limit as everyone had to be out of the school by 10pm. There were to be seven separate contests and, to be fair to the parents, there was a lottery to see who of the almost 50 would participate. With only 20 or so teachers there would have to be some that did double duty. There was some squabbling but by the time we left everyone knew the rules. Pat had set a modest goal of making around $200 to be used as seed money for gymnastic equipment. She’d contacted a supplier of such equipment who said they’d be willing to put on a demonstration prior to the ‘show’. Once Mo and Barbara heard about that they volunteered to do some of the things they’d done at their old school. It was shaping up to be a fun night even if I was to be pretty much just a by-stander. The only question was just how many adults would show up. Indications were that a lot of the students were planning on being there.

With Elle a participating teacher I was a bit concerned about what she should wear for ‘protection’. As I’ve mentioned before, I enjoyed ‘wet play’ when it was pretty much private. I didn’t enjoy seeing her get embarrassed so that was my concern as she got ready. Her concern was that the ‘protection’ would show. I told her it was far better to have a ”fat butt’ than a wet one so we compromised. Two pair of ‘dribble panties and a pair of sanitary panties but I warned her that if she had a full blown ‘accident’, she was in trouble.

Most of the participants (including the judges) were there by 7pm with the show to start at 7pm with the gymnastics exhibition. By that time there was standing room only with the auxiliary seats pulled out and filled. It was probably a 60/40 mix with more kids than adults. The guy from the equipment company brought a tumbling mat and did a bunch of floor exercises. Then Barbara and her sister, Mo, came out but in their gym suits from their old school. It seemed funny to see them in red and white rather than blue and gold. It was also a bit eyeopening in another aspect... both had filled out a bit since they last wore them. I was at one end of the mat when they started. It was obvious that they hadn’t had a lot of practice as there were a few mistakes. But, for me, that was one of the enjoyable parts, For some reason Mo had worn panties under her suit and soon after she started they were peeking out from under.

There were seven different contests with four teachers and four parents in each. There were only five male teachers but far more male parents so the decision was to let them compete against the women. However, to make it as fair as possible they had to draw numbers to see who competed in which event and who they were matched against. Of course I was curious as to who and what Elle had drawn.

To be continued...

Explanation... of sorts, about the "crash"

Explanation... of sorts, about the "crash"

Time caught up with me... in many ways. The 'puter was ten years old and my big mistake was in not keeping up with updating the operating systems as time passed. I was getting what I wanted with what I had so my thought process was to be satisfied with what I had. Why that was so big was that all my 'stuff' was (or is) incompatible with the current operating systems. I have an external hard drive but when migrating what was on it to the new computer, most of it was rejected or corrupted. Now I'm praying that a "guru" can at least salvage my pictures through some special process. I know half my music is gone. As far as the writing is concerned, my notes is all that I lost. Mostly outlines that I'd add to after being reminded of something. At my age I have to write them down as soon as the thought comes to mind. My posting may be a little sporadic for a while as I try to continue to recover but I will.

ANOTHER YEAR... MARCHing on (Part 155a)

ANOTHER YEAR... MARCHing on (Part 155a)

The boys varsity team was definitely better this time. More disciplined and able to run designed plays, they actually looked pretty good against a team that was bigger than they were. We got to our seats just as the cheerleaders made their entrance. Arriving later than I’d wanted, we ended up in higher seats that did not offer much of a chance for panty peeks. Seeing Barbara made for some mixed feelings. It was the first time I’d seen her since her mother had told Elle about her deliberate wetting. As much as I enjoyed the sensual part of Elle’s wetting, the thought of Barbara doing it for her own pleasure was something totally different to comprehend. Her bedwetting was an unfortunate ‘condition’, much like Elle’s, and not sensual at all. It was just a strange feeling, looking at her cavorting around with the other cheerleaders, knowing that she got pleasure from wetting herself. Maybe if she’d been older at the time I would’ve enjoyed knowing about it but, as it was, it left me somewhat uncomfortable.

Elle and the girls left before the end of the game as Elle found Kaye was running a fever. She hadn’t been her usual self at dinner but wanted to go to the game to see Barbara. I told her to head on home as I wanted to talk with Jack (the coach) about practices for our upcoming town team games. Jack had ‘scouted’ our next opponent and I was curious at to what he’d discovered and wanted to know if he had a plan on how to play them. Winning our last game had boosted our spirits and had us looking forward to another game. However, the ‘news’ such as it was, wasn’t good. Jack called the guys on the team we were to play “bullies” and proceeded to describe their leader as a “thug”. Not only that, but they were pretty good ballplayers as well. He’d called for a longer practice the next day and had gotten a good response from most of the guys. He asked if I could stay a little longer as well. What could I say but “Yes”.

What made the practice interesting was that a couple of the guys brought their wives or girlfriends. Bobo organized a sort of indoor picnic with them so that when we finished up we’d get to know each other better. Davo’s girlfriend was the one I focused on. I dubbed her the girl with the “perpetual smile”. Leigh was a ‘solid’ girl who could’ve lost a few pounds. About 5’8“ or so she had brown shoulder length hair and a decent figure. I can’t really describe what she was wearing for pants because I don’t know what, if any, category they would fit. They weren’t jeans or made of denim. The color was oatmeal and the sort of looked like they’d been slept in. But, across her rear, they were nice and tight. After meeting her at the beginning of the practice I couldn’t wait until we were finished. I saw the potential for a nice VPL.

Jack, for practice, had come up with a few plays that he thought might help us out so we went over them multiple times. He’d recruited some of his varsity ball players to make up another team so were practicing with game conditions. If there was one thing we accomplished it was to reinforce how old and slow we’d become. Jokingly, we asked if we could draft the kids to play on our team. By the time we finished the ladies had everything in place for lunch. As I said, she’d declared it was ”an indoor picnic“ and it looked it. Salads, rolls, delicatessen meats, beer and soda. I made sure to put myself in position to observe Leigh as she moved about. It only took a few minutes before she bent over to get a beer out of a cooler. Voila! A beautiful VPL. What made it so good was that, once having seen it, I could still see a faint outline of it while she was standing. Definitely my kind of panty with a crotch big enough to be seen without bending over like the panties Bobo wore. Now the question was... who made them. A wild hope for me was to see a DP but she was wearing a sweater that covered her waist line. But, having met her and having a chance to talk a bit with her I knew I’d get more chances in the future. She told me she and Davo would be going to all the stock car races that Cliffy would be driving in during the Summer.

The game against the ”bullies“ was a disaster, right from the start. We hadn’t been playing for more than a few minutes before Jack called for a ‘time out’. Their team was pushing and shoving us around and the referee wasn’t calling any fouls on them. All Jack wanted to tell us was ”Don’t get hurt... be careful.“ How prophetic! Within a minute of that time out I went for a rebound and got clobbered by the chief bully while up in the air and when I landed I knew I was in trouble. Long story short, I came down with my right foot tucked under me. It hurt right away and when I tried to stand I couldn’t. At first I thought I’d broken it. So, I was the first casualty. Adam was next as one of their guys hit him in the nose with his elbow. Blood was everywhere. By half time we’d scored only a few baskets and were a bruised and beaten group. By the time the game was over everyone of the team had visual signs of a mugging.

As we packed up it was Jack who made the suggestion that we might want to seriously think about dropping out of the league. We had to have at least seven players and three of the eight of us were probably not going to be able to play the next game. What had Jack all fired up was that the referee didn’t do anything letting most of the fouls go. I honestly don’t remember any foul shots at all. He told us that he’d understand if we wanted to end our participation right then and there. The vote was six to two to end it that day.

The final tally on the injuries... Adam's broken nose needed two operations to repair... a sprained wrist... a dislocated shoulder... a sprained thumb...multiple bruises and a severely sprained ankle (mine). Jack wrote (and spoke) to the organizers to complain but all they did was to point out that we’d all signed waivers of responsibility before we started. As a footnote... of the seven teams that started the year only four remained to the end. Jack talked with the coaches of the other teams that dropped out and their complaint was the same as his... the referees didn’t do their job.  The following year only three teams signed up and, for all intents and purposes, the whole thing was over. Jack later found out that the leader of the ”bullies“ had put up the money to pay the referees so they were on his payroll. No wonder they didn’t call fouls on his team.

To be continued...

Big crash...

Big crash...

I know I've been skating on 'thin ice' for a while with my computer. I've put off getting a new one for a lot of reasons but now I have no choice. I've spent the last few days trying to get someone to help me salvage as much of what I have on it and haven't been able to locate one that was able to convince me he knew, fully, what he was doing. I have my ipad but it doesn't contain my outlines, notes, pictures for the blog. Plus, I have an extensive music library. The timing of this couldn't have come at a worse time. (I won't bore you with details) I had started on the next post when it happened. I will be back! Please have patience...

ANOTHER YEAR... another month (Part 153g)

ANOTHER YEAR... another month (Part 153g)

The game plan that Jack came up with, to let Davo (at 6’6“) hang back towards the basket we were shooting at to pick up easy points didn’t work out as he’d expected. Davo did get some easy baskets but on the other end we only had four men on defense. Zone defenses weren’t in vogue back then but that’s what we pretty much had to do to cover the five of them on the attack. Their tallest player was maybe 5’10” with most around 5’7’ or less. But they were quick. After about 5 minutes I was winded as were most of the rest of the guys. At half time we were only ahead by a few points so Jack went back to normal, man to man basketball. I sat out after the half and let Johnnie go in for me. We were both the same height but he was a bit heavier and didn’t get pushed around as much as I did. We were pretty excited because it was the first game we led at half time and I was totally focused on the game... until Sandy jumped up when Johnnie scored a basket. She’d been sitting next to Bobo and when she got up it wasn’t hard for me to see the ‘smile’ on her butt cheeks. I got a few seconds view before she sat back down. In thinking about it I realized she was wearing a pair of sanitary panties over what I figured were ‘dribble’ panties. After not having seen her in quite a while it was a nice re-introduction.

There was no second look as I went back in the game shortly afterwards. With just a few minutes left the other team took the lead and Jack called a time out. Davo had most of the points for us but he was ‘gassed’ even though he hadn’t had to run all that much in the first half. He begged to sit out the last few minutes. That left Johnnie and I as the tallest players for our team and Jack set  us under the baskets to get rebounds on missed shots. We didn’t have all the fancy clocks they have today so we, on the floor, had no idea how much time was left. I got a rebound on the defensive end and saw Johnnie running towards our basket so I heaved the ball in that direction. It bounced once and into his hands. He dribbled a few feet and made the basket that won the game for us, our first win. We were all exhausted and were sort of holding each other up. When I saw Sandy running towards Johnnie I broke away as if I was going over to the bench. But, it was to get a better look at her backside. It was a lot wetter than the last look and, as mean as it sounds, I sort of enjoyed seeing her jumping around with the seat of her pants showing round wet spots on each cheek.

When that celebration calmed down Bobo broke out the goodies. Alcohol wasn’t allowed in the school but she’d brought a thermos with vodka in it to add to the sodas she’d brought to go with sandwiches. She squatted down to pour the vodka into the soda cans and as she did I got my second ‘reward’, a nice DP. It lasted for almost a minute and any of the other guys who might’ve been interested certainly had their chance. By the time we left to go home we were ready to take on the Harlem Globetrotters. I paid for it the next morning but, all in all, it was a good night!

Bad weather and working late a couple of Friday nights were the reasons for not attending any more of the boys varsity basketball games during the month. Elle only had a few days of teaching during the month but when she did she managed to run into Mo or Barbara from next door. They asked when we would be coming to the games as the season was winding down. Elle passed it on to me and I told her and the kids we’d go to the next game. I hadn’t seen Barbara since her mother made the ‘reveal’ about her wetting on purpose. I had very mixed emotions about it since she was, at sixteen, still a minor. I wasn’t sure how I’d react when I saw again.

With work progressing on the branch it meant I had to start in with the development of a new gift campaign for the opening. Between Bert (the president), Hobie and Gee, the Trustee/attorney, they’d managed to wrest control of that from the branch committee. On my own initiative I’d managed to get the names of a few companies who focused on what, in the industry, was called ‘premiums’. In looking over the material that the Trustees turned over to Bert they had only considered one company. I wasn’t really looking forward to the project but I wasn’t shying away from it wither.

The month really flew by. The end of it meant there was only six weeks until Elle and I headed for Florida. We were both getting excited and Elle had taken some of the money she’d earned in January and bought a few things just for the trip. I’d managed to get a few signs completed and had set aside some cash for spending money while we were there. Elle had managed to get in contact with one of her college friends who lived only a half hour from where we were to be staying and that was something else to look forward to. Joining up with Cliffy and the racecar provided an unexpected bonus in that he picked up extra cash driving people to and from the two city airports and offed to do the same for us and at no cost but for the gas. Elle’s mother, with plenty of warning, was willing to take the kids for the whole week. It seemed like everything was falling into place. Now it was on to March...

To be continued... 

ANOTHER YEAR... another month (Part 153f)

ANOTHER YEAR... another month (Part 153f)

The day before had been the regular monthly Board meeting. There were two things of importance that came from it... work had been started on the new branch and ”Polak“ Joe was back in good stead. Because the day after the meeting was a holiday Bret and I didn’t find out about the progress on the branch until that Friday and it was Hobie who told us. The weather had been warm enough to pour the slab and to create the basic part of the vault. He said he was going to take a ride up to the site on Saturday and asked if either of us wanted to go along. I really didn’t because of town team basketball. I hated to leave the guys on the team ‘hanging’ but also felt that if I didn’t go it would reflect poorly on me so I said yes. As I found out later, Bret also accepted the invite fearing the same thing.

We met at Hobie’s house around mid morning and during the 40 minute or so ride we got to talk about a lot of things. One was Jerry. I’d vowed to keep my mouth shut pretty much figuring that since he was the ‘pet’ of some of the Board members I wouldn’t be doing myself any favors by citing his deficiencies. So, when Hobie asked for both Bret’s and my observations on his performance I was surprised. Neither of us wanted to answer and when Hobie realized it he told us that ”it would be off the record”. I took a deep breath and told him that I just didn’t trust him to follow bank protocols. I didn’t give any specific examples but Bret did. Emboldened by his words I added on by saying that if he couldn’t follow rules and regulations with the three of us looking over his shoulder what was going to happen when he was on his own.

I waited for Hobie to respond but he ‘clammed up’ just like he did when I questioned him about Gina a few months earlier. I was pretty sure I knew him well enough that he wouldn’t put either of us in jeopardy as far as the Board members were concerned but I didn’t know just what he’d do with the information that we’d given him. The last mile or so before we got to the site was quiet. As I’d written in an earlier post, the property was irregular in shape and forced compromises as far as the location of the building so as to allow for a drive-up window. On the plans it didn’t look all that bad but seeing the footprint of the actual building on the property it was a bit of a shock. The township required that we put in sidewalks even though there were none on the properties on either side of our lot. That left but a few feet between the building and the sidewalk. The first thing  that troubled me was that there was little to no space for a sign that could or would be read by passing traffic. It would have to be on the building itself. Zoning had requirements as to the size of any signage on a commercial property. In expressing my concern to Hobie he thought that our newest Trustee, a local (to that area) attorney might be able to wrangle a variance for us and not to worry about it right then.

We were just about to go and inspect the vault when a car pulled up beside Hobie’s vehicle. Out stepped Jerry followed by his wife and daughter. Seeing them walking across the slab together I couldn’t help but think of the cartoon character, the Sad Sack, as he had this hang-dog look on his face. I could hear his wife’s shrill voice complaining about how hard it was going to be to find a place to live in the area. As we were about to find out they’d been surveying the housing developments near the branch. Basically, there weren’t any. There were a few that were proposed but it was pretty barren right at that time. The next twenty or so minutes were spent listening to her ask all kids of questions, all of which should’ve been asked by Jerry during his interview(s). Hobie, politely, got us out of the situation saying he had to be back home to go to a luncheon. He wasn’t completely lying... because he’d volunteered to take Bret and I to lunch but it was at a restaurant that was on our way back.

None of us wanted to speak at first. Finally, I broke the silence by asking if anyone heard Jerry say anything after he reintroduced his wife and daughter to us. I was looking at Bret when I spoke and he just broke out with a laugh. Hobie was trying to keep a straight face but not for long. He changed the subject by stating that we needed to stay on top of the construction of the actual building as he’d come to agree with me that the placement of the manager’s office was less than ideal. That made me feel good although I pretty much knew that I’d be the one to follow up the inspections.

Later, I found that the town team had lost again but it wouldn’t have mattered even if I’d been there. I did find out that there had been a schedule change and that we were to play on Tuesday night, at home. The team we were playing had been preempted from their school gym and Jack (our coach) arranged it so we could play at our school. Jack was eager to play this team because they, like us, had lost all the games they’d been in. He wanted a ‘real’ win rather than a forfeited one. He’d scouted the team and told the guys that Davo, our big guy would score at least 20 points against them. I heard that and wanted to laugh. The most points we’d scored in the games I’d attended and played in were less than that.

On game night, Bobo was there waiting for us with her goodies, only she told us we had to win to get them. I was surprised to see Johnnie, Sandy’s husband, there. I hadn't seen him since early in the Fall. It turned out that Jack had been working on him to play and had finally convinced him. He’d been really upset that he hadn’t even been interviewed for either coaching position, especially after he’d been the JV coach the year before. But, what was especially pleasing was to see Sandy there as well. That gave me two females to check out for both DP’s and VPL’s.

To be continued...

Time out...

Time out... for Thanksgiving.

Last evening we got a surprise message from our granddaughter. We knew she was in London on assignment but had been told by her mother that she wouldn't be coming back to the USA until just before Christmas. In the message she told us her company had decided to let some people return to the states for Thanksgiving. But, it was so late that almost all flights were booked. In trying to find a flight she found one that would get her to Washington DC. We live about an hour and a half from that airport so she wanted to know if we'd like a "visitor" for a few days. Of course we said "yes" even thought it meant changing our plans. We haven't seen her since last Christmas and were very excited to see her. We got in touch with her mother and she's driving here too. The one request she made was to have a home cooked Thanksgiving meal so today's been a bit hectic gathering all the 'fixins' together.  (We'd planned to eat out) I just got back from the airport with the granddaughter so haven't had time to work on the next post. I should be able to get something up by Sunday after they both leave.

Soooo.... To all of you who do stop by from time to time, I hope you have a good Thanksgiving and that you do truly have things to be thankful for. My wife and I sure do in that the daughter who's been so sick is now part of a clinical trial that seems to be helping her. And, of course, we're thankful that we have another daughter and granddaughter here with us for a few days.

Gobble, gobble and don't eat too much... :-)

ANOTHER YEAR... another month (Part153e)

ANOTHER YEAR... another month (Part 153e)

It didn’t take long for me to get the answer to the strange panty elastic I’d seen when viewing the DP’s on Bobo. The contents of the drawer was a mishmash of bras, panties, socks garter belts and stockings. There was no order to the contents at all. But there were a couple of bright white items that got my attention right away. I picked one up and it was a panty. The first thing I noticed was the stitching on the waist elastic as it seemed to match what I’d seen while viewing the DP’s on Bobo. However, when I held them up there was something else that made them different from all the panties I’d seen and held. There was patterned stitching all across the front panel. That, for sure, was something very new for my eyes. When I put my fingers on it I realized there was some sort of stiffer material behind/inside the satiny material of the panty. Other than that they looked like regular panties except the crotch was smaller than most panties I’d ever seen. That explained why I’d not gotten a good VPL from Bobo. The label didn’t have a name but just some numbers and what I took to be the size... a bold M. There were three of these panties in the drawer and they all looked fairly new. That wasn’t the case with most of the other panties. They looked pretty sad and, with the one pair I pulled out to inspect, the leg elastic was starting to pull away from the material. I checked the labels on a few and they were so old that the printing had been washed away.

Since I was already in the drawer and Bobo’s bras were right there I took a peek at what size they were. I’d mentioned that she was well endowed and I found one that looked fairly new with a readable label... 36C. Some of the guys on the basketball team had been making guesses as to just how big she was. Now that I knew I felt somewhat empowered... but certainly couldn’t share the information.

Putting everything back in the drawer I really never had a serious thought about taking any panties. The older ones were just that... old... and with only three of the newer ones it would be obvious if one were missing. I made a mental note to be looking for panties like them whenever I had a chance to peruse a lingerie department. The negative side of that was I really didn’t have that much opportunity any more.

The clothes that Jack wanted to go to the dry cleaners were on the back of a chair in the kitchen. I’d walked right past them when I came in. I grabbed them up and headed for town. After leaving the items off I saw no need to go tell Jack that I’d accomplished his request so headed home to my sign. After designing the layout of a sign the actual painting/lettering is rather mindless. So... my thoughts went to Bobo’s panties. I was really curious as to why the subtle differences to what I called normal panties. I wondered if a trip to see my friend Judith who owned the boutique a few miles away might give me the answer. After about half an hour I was on my way.

Her new location, with more space, hadn’t been open all that long but it hadn’t taken Judith much time to overload it like her old space. We chatted for a bit but I had to have a reason for being there other than to ask about the different style of panties. As you know if you’ve been reading this tome for any time at all I loved Van Raalte panties because of the large crotch area and they were a brand she carried. Every time I visited the boutique I usually left with a box of six. Since I wanted to get back home before Elle did I asked if she'd gotten in any new styles. She smiled and led me back to the lingerie area and pulled out an unopened box. She showed me a pair and they looked exquisite. While she ran the sale up I made conversation and asked about the different panties I’d seen at Bobo's. I’d hoped she wouldn’t ask why I wanted to know and she didn’t... at first. She told me they were something new and were introduced to cut into the girdle market. The word she used was ”shaper“ and were to hold a female’s tummy in without being uncomfortable. After that explanation she asked why I wanted to know adding that from her observation Elle sure didn’t need one. I was lying when I told her we’d had a visitor for a few days and I’d gotten a look at one. She seemed to ‘buy’ my answer and proceeded to pull out a box from a shelf. The name on the side read ”Whisper Soft“ and she took a pair out. It was a bit different than Bobo’s but it had the same reversal of waist elastic and the different style of stitching. The front panel didn’t have as much fancy stitching as Bobo’s and when I reached out to touch the front panel it was less stiff than the front of Bobo’s. Standing there touching them I knew I wanted a pair even though I knew Elle would never wear them. The problem was could I come up with a plausible reason to buy one.

My ability to ‘think quick’ held me in good stead as I told her that they might be something Elle’s mother might like since she was always complaining when she wore a girdle. Judith didn’t hesitate and asked if I knew her size. I did know her dress size as Elle had bought her one for Christmas so gave that to her. She then handed me one and gave me instructions for her to try it on while wearing panties so if she didn’t like it I could return it. BINGO! My trip had been worth it... for two reasons.
                               

                       
The panties in the picture are 48 years old and have never been worn, not even for a minute. They were added to my ‘stash’ back then and have been there ever since.

To be continued...   

ANOTHER YEAR... another month (Part 153d)

ANOTHER YEAR... another month (Part 153d)

The team consisted of Cliffy, Dick, Alan, Buster, Joey and me. Cliffy and Dick were in Elle’s class from the fifth grade on. Alan and Buster were a year or two behind them and Joe just appeared at the shop one day. I’d been friends with Cliffy since we were fifteen and, before I had my own racecar, I’d been a part of the group who went to the races with his father’s car so knew Dick, Alan and Buster from way back then. Joey was the only unmarried. Cliffy’s wife, Beth was a few years younger than the rest of us and came from the next town to the East. They had three kids, a girl a year older than Jean, my oldest and two boys somewhere between my Anne and my Kaye. Dick’s, wife went by the nickname, Raa. They had two girls and one was friendly with my Anne. They lived right across the road in a big old Victorian house. Alan had married a girl from near the city who spent her Summers in the area. They had two toddlers but I really didn’t know her because she didn’t like racing and hadn’t been at the track when I was hanging with Cliffy. Buster was also married but I'd been told that his wife, Marilyn, was, to put it bluntly, a bitch. I’d also been told by Dick that the others weren’t going to let him join the team because of her but they needed his money. I didn’t know her and wasn’t looking forward to meeting her what with that reputation.

The meeting about the racecar was at the repair shop his father owned and where Cliffy worked. It was a really big space and there were all kinds of farm tractors and farm vehicles there. The racecar was over in a corner and covered with dust. From a distance it looked pretty sad. Cliffy explained that farmers would put off doing repairs to their equipment until it was almost time for the new planting season and then want it done yesterday. Cliffy’s father had some success in getting them to bring their stuff in early by giving them a break in the hourly rate he charged. Looking at at least a half dozen different types of equipment it seemed like it worked. He told us the racecar didn’t need all that much work so the plan was to wait until the first of April to start to go over it. The season was to start the first Saturday in May which was over two months away. Hearing that, with my interest at a high peak, was a bit of a disappointment.

Cliffy’s father had owned racecars since 1953 and had won track championships back in those days. Upon graduation Cliffy (and Dick) joined the Navy and his father stopped racing. At the end of his service duty Cliffy talked his father into building him a racecar and he’d been racing since 1960. His father’s car number had been 8 at the beginning but when he came back that number was taken. Cliffy decided he wanted a number that had an eight in it and had raced for a few years with number 78. They didn’t have a lot of luck so changed it to 28. The first year with that number he won the track championship and that qualified him to race at Daytona. However, the luck with that number seemed to have faded so the first order of business for us was to choose a new number. Cale Yarborough, driving a Ford had just won the big 500 mile race at Daytona with a car numbered 21. We pretty much all agreed that was a good number and, after a bit decided to go with that. Cliffy’s father had a love of the color red and when someone suggested that we change the color as well, since he no longer owned the car, we chose maroon and off white to go with the new number. The source of the idea... they were the colors of the winning car at Daytona. I, as a sign painter, agreed to come up with a design for the colors and would paint the numbers on the car. It made me feel like I was a real part of the team. As we were breaking up Cliffy proposed that we have a party to inaugurate the new team. He offered to host it and said his wife would let everyone know when. Another party was not what I needed on my schedule but...

The town team basketball wasn’t going well but we were sort of getting into shape after three games and were no longer an embarrassment. Jack’s wife, Bobo, continued to root for us from the bench and to provide home made goodies. For me, it was an occasional DP. I was still intrigued with the type panties she wore based upon the stitching in the waist elastic. I’d managed to get one VPL but it wasn’t all that big meaning it was a small crotch. At least she gave me something to ponder when sitting on the bench (which I did a lot of). It was on Presidents Day that an unexpected opportunity arose for me when Jack called to ask a favor. He was getting his suburban serviced and they had found something wrong. He had no choice but to wait. He realized that he’d neglected to drop his dry cleaning off at the laundromat. (He was more than just a coach at school as he also was a 6th grade teacher. Back in those days teachers still had to adhere to a dress code.) He told me that his wife would "kill him“ if it didn’t get done and all I had to do was get it and drop it off. I asked where Bobo was and was told she and a girlfriend had gone shopping at the regional mall. Not really thinking about the opportunity I asked why he'd called me. It was because I didn't live that far from him and town. I was a little bummed because I was counting on the time to work on a big sign in my basement... but he was a good guy so I said I‘d help him out. He told me where the key to the back door was hidden and where the clothes were located. I was at the bottom of the driveway when it came to me... WOW! was my immediate thought.

Summer bungalows in our area were like small communities, clustered in various areas that pretty much were in walking distance of the water be it the Bay or the Sound. Driving down the road to his house (it was more like a path) I remembered the times before I had a driving license and had to use a boat to get to this particular area. Fond memories, for sure. I found the cottage and quickly had the key. He'd told me the clothes were supposed to be hanging in a hall closet but there wasn’t anything but coats in it. I took a look around trying to find them thinking that maybe Bobo had taken them when she left. It was a three bedroom dwelling but only one had any size to it. I walked in and even though I was supposed to be searching for the clothes I spied the dresser and went right for it. The second drawer down held the prizes.

To be continued...

ANOTHER YEAR... another month (Part 153c)

ANOTHER YEAR... another month (Part 153c)

Because the affair at Pat’s was called together so late a number of participants would only agree to stay for a short while. I was all for that although it was productive. When Pat had proposed the competitive event the previous year it had been turned down by the Board because Pat couldn’t come up with a stated purpose for the money that would be raised by ticket sales. This year she’d come up with buying some gymnastic equipment as most of the surrounding schools were getting into the sport. Jon (the milkman) and Bob, who were both on the Board reinforced the concept and hoped Pat’s event would generate enough interest to force the Board to fund it going forward. As for the event itself the specific games/contests were firmed up and suggested names of people to act as referees were discussed. We had a little over a month for that but what was becoming more pressing was the school board election. No one wanted to hear about that and we pretty much walked out before 9pm. No games and no ‘peeks’. I think it was the first time Ginger hadn’t given me one while at a gathering of the ’group’.

With Elle teaching almost the whole month and leaving our youngest, Kaye, at the day care run by the wife (Phyllis) of the principal, she got to see her at least three times a week. That familiarity led to Phyllis becoming a lot less ‘standoffish’ and more friendly. So, it wasn’t a complete surprise when she called Elle one morning to ask if she would be willing to help her at the day care. Her assistant couldn’t come in and Phyllis had too many kids to handle by herself. Elle loved kids and thought it would be fun to deal with younger ones for a change. When I got home and asked her how the day had gone I didn’t expect her answer to be that she’d tell me later. I tried to get her to give me a hint and all I got was that it was a much longer day than when she was at school and a LOT more physical. She added that she had a much greater admiration for Phyllis and just what she did.

It was after the kids were in bed before she was willing to talk. Normally she’d come down the stairs and we’d watch TV. But not this night. She waved for me to follow her into the kitchen and sat down at the table. I was really puzzled and the serious look on her face only added to that. My first thought was that there was some bad news about Kaye and her behavior while there. But I’d noticed that with her attendance her shyness and timidity had improved by quite a lot. So, when Elle started in by explaining that Phyllis had asked her to stay for a few minutes after the last kids were picked up it was Barbara that she wanted to talk about.

Even though Elle had never talked directly to Phyllis about her incontinence she pretty much had taken it as a ‘given’ that she knew. Barbara certainly knew from when she’d spent the long weekend with us and, knowing how kids talk, felt she had probably shared it with her mother. That, and the fact that she’d shared how she handled the situation at night with her ’package’ made it almost a certainty. But I was really taken aback when Elle told me that Phyllis told her she thought Barbara was wetting on purpose.

To me, Elle was uneasy in sharing this information with me. I was shocked and didn’t know how to react. It took a few seconds before I spoke. I asked if she knew why Phyllis had told her about this and all she could do was shrug her shoulders. Elle did offer that she thought Phyllis was just looking for advice even though she hadn’t come right out and asked for it. We chatted for a while and I finally got around to asking how Phyllis discovered it. I don’t remember her exact answer but I took it that Phyllis caught Barbara masturbating and her panties were wet. Elle said it was very uncomfortable for her and that prompted me to ask what she said to Phyllis. As I remember it she shrugged her shoulders at first and then said she told her that Barbara was a really good girl. I was still trying to figure out what Phyllis expected from Elle as we finally went in to watch TV.

I found myself unable to concentrate on the TV screen as I wrestled with the whole thing in my mind. As I thought about Elle’s and my relationship with her incontinence and voluntarily (sometimes) wetting for me I could honestly not think of a single time where she wet for her own pleasure. This was the first time I even heard of such a thing. By the time we headed up the stairs I began to worry about Barbara and what Phyllis might do to possibly punish her.

Telling Elle about my involvement with Cliffy and the racecar got put off for as long as I could. When he got back from Florida he called the house to tell me he and the others were meeting at the shop to start planning for the season. The only thing was that I wasn’t home and Elle answered. I made sure to tell him that Elle wasn’t to know about the money when I gave it to him. However, there was no way for him to know I hadn’t spoken to Elle. As soon as I arrived home she was all over me wanting to know what I was up to. I remember taking a deep breath before answering and telling her that I really missed being involved in racing after Big ”B“ sold his racecar. I went on that when I took my car to get it fixed Cliffy had asked if I was interested. She didn’t say anything but the look on her face told me I should have told her right after I’d agreed to join the guys. We stood face to face for a few seconds and then she walked away. It was the next morning before she spoke to me.

To be continued...

ANOTHER YEAR... another month (Part 153b)

ANOTHER YEAR... another month (Part 153b)

After hitting, or attempting to hit, a few balls, I stopped... because I couldn’t concentrate. When the woman swung her club her hips were a sight to behold. I couldn’t wait for her to retrieve her whiffle balls. I was so engrossed that I didn’t see or realize the instructor had walked up behind me. He tapped me on my shoulder and I know I jumped. He asked if I had a problem... and I did but I couldn’t tell him what it was. After he walked past me I made sure he was far enough away before I focused on the woman again. The timing couldn’t have been better. Initially, I’d hoped that she would bend over at the waist to pick up the balls but she chose to squat to do it. To me, a DP (down pants) was far better than a VPL and I got one... and a surprise. What I saw was about four inches of a black material. I looked down (I was only about five feet away) and could make out what appeared to be the waist elastic so I assumed they were panties. I’d never seen black panties on a female before. I’d seen a few on display when in the large department stores while in the city but had yet to see any in the local stores I’d visited. I’d also seen them in one of the many catalogs we got in the mail but it sure was a shock that evening. Concentrating on them, it appeared the elastic was sewn on the inside of the material and I'd not, knowingly, seen before. She was down for at least 10 t0 15 seconds and to reach the last of the balls did a duck walk to get to them. I could see at least an inch to and inch and a half of the panty down towards her butt crack. It was very interesting. After she got up she walked over to the instructor and never came back. I was hoping we’d end up doing some other drills that would give me a chance for a VPL but it didn’t happen.

Practice for the basketball team was at 9am on Saturdays. With the coach as a part of the team he had the keys to the auditorium/gym. However, even though we had access to the locker room we were told we couldn’t use the showers. Because it was the weekend the heat was turned down so we didn’t perspire all that much. Before we left I took the opportunity to take a peek into the girls locker room and found it to be somewhat different than the boys and I wondered why. I also noticed if you stood in one place outside the doorway that you could get a sliver of a peek into the room. I wondered how many boys had figured that out over the years.

Outside, I overheard a conversation between two of the other team members having to do with the Daytona race to be run on Sunday. I’d been following it the best I could (No TV coverage back in those days) and asked if they knew who was to start on the pole (first place). They both looked at me and blurted out something like “Are you a race fan?” When I said I was and that I’d actually driven in races at the local track they got quite animated. One of them, Davo, was about 6’6“ tall and was supposed to be the tallest guy in the league. He was also very slow. The other guy, Adam, had been on the now defunct team and, although heavy, had the best shot. We talked for a short while before I mentioned that I’d just bought an interest in a local racecar. ”Who?“ was their combined response. When I told them it was Cliffy they laughed. It turned out they were good friends with him and although they didn’t work on the car, attended all the races as fans. When we got back to the Daytona race they told me it was Cale Yarborough who had garnered first place in the time trials and they were rooting for him to win the race. From the little that got printed in the newspapers I knew he was a very good driver so chimed in that I also hoped he’d win. (BTW: He did) Driving home I had a real good feeling about my involvement in the new racing team. 

I knew that Jack, the coach, was married and his wife, Bobo (yes, that’s what she was called) worked in the school cafeteria. We’d not seen her during our practices but for our first game she showed up with water and home made ‘goodies’. From a distance she appeared to be pretty but a closer look showed that she’d had terrible acne as a teen and her face was scarred from it. But, she had a nice body and was well ‘endowed’ and in scanning her backside saw possibilities for a VPL or two. We had to play our home games on a Tuesday night as the adult education courses had the other nights with the high school basketball games scheduled for Fridays. I can’t say I was surprised that our audience was almost entirely family members. Bobo sat on the bench with us so she could chat with Jack. I didn’t think much of it until I ended up next to her. Soon after I took my seat she turned to talk to Jack and I, almost instinctively,  looked in the same direction... and down just a bit. As with the lady at Golf instruction, there was a delightful DP for me to appreciate.

Like with the golf lady, I saw something I’d not seen before. The waist elastic was inside the material but there was something else. The stitching was very noticeably different. I don’t really know how to describe it but, for sure, it was new to me.
                                   

sample of stitching

 Another thing... the panties seemed to be especially shiny. For a short while I forgot all about the ball game. I only got to see them the one time but that night I kept thinking/wondering just who made them. BTW:.. we lost.

Somewhere in and about that period of time, Pat (the PTA lady) got most of the ‘group’ to agree to having a party/meeting at her house. It wasn’t about the school board but was to firm up plans for the parent teacher competition. The school board had given approval to use the gymnasium on a Saturday night in March and Pat had rounded up at least 10 teachers to participate, including Elle, as well as a dozen parents. She wanted us to come up with more ideas for the competitions. Reluctantly, I agreed to go.

To be continued...

ANOTHER YEAR... another month (Part 153a)

ANOTHER YEAR... another month (Part 153a)

Aside form being annoyed at having to deal with Jerry every day, things were going well at the bank as February started. Jaz, in taking Janet’s place, had fit in well both with the other tellers and the customers. Peggy was happy at the drive-up and with the school savings program. Alice showed up a few times wearing a pants suit and, as soon as 3pm came and the lobby was empty, off came the jacket and if I concentrated, was able to discern a nice VPL. Lorie was doing very well as chief clerk and I had to admit to myself that I’d been wrong about her. Having worked closely with her for the month I’d come to realize that she was another who would’ve benefited from a college education. She and Mala (who was now working in the accounting department), because of their parents philosophy about education, never had the opportunity. Speaking of Lorie, after seeing panties on the wash line at her house that one night, I made a point of taking the long way home on a couple of occasions. I don’t remember how many times I did before seeing any. Winter time and being night don’t add up to a high percentage of seeing wash of any kind. I actually parked in the same place as when I’d first discovered them and could definitely see two different sizes and the smaller ones had to belong to Lorie. I didn’t have a plan to do anything more than look but it was a fun thing to do.

I’d managed to get to see my friend Cliffy to give him the money for my share of his father’s racecar. He told me that he and his wife, Beth, were going to host a meeting of the others when they got back from Daytona Beach, Florida. Cliffy had won the track championship at the local track he raced at the year before and it gave him a starting place in one of the races held there each February. He was going back to help a fellow driver in one of the races this year. I was getting ‘itchy’ to get back into racing and was looking forward to making plans for the upcoming season.

Signing up for an American Express card turned out to be a learning experience. Even though I was working in the banking business, the type of bank I worked for didn’t offer credit cards of any kind so I knew absolutely nothing about how they worked. I was not prepared when they told me I’d have to pay a monthly fee just to have the card. The reason I chose American Express was that it was the one I’d always seen my father use. I told Bret about my plight and he said the bank his father worked for had Master Card credit cards and they charged one $12 fee per year. What was even better was when I told him what I needed it for... golf clubs and a guitar. I remember his eyes lighting up and then blurting out he knew where I could get both. His father had given up golf because of arthritis in his wrists and didn’t know what to do with his clubs. He assured me that the price would be reasonable but even better, I could try them out first. On the guitar, his sister had tried to learn a few years back and gave up. When she moved away she’d left the guitar with Bret’s parents and his mother was complaining about it taking up needed space. It was like I’d hit the lottery even though I didn’t know how much money I’d have to spend.

Bret insisted that I follow him to his house that evening to pick the items up. While there I asked his father about getting a credit card. He told me it would take about a week to ten days. That told me I had some time because my real need for it wasn’t until Elle and I headed for Florida. As for the golf clubs he told me $25 but before I had a chance to speak he changed his mind and said $20 would be just fine. Bret interjected at that point to ask his father if I could try them first. I remember him laughing and was reminded of a laugh that a good Santa Claus might make. I took it to mean that I could.

While this negotiation was going on Bret’s mother was no where to be seen. I hadn’t called Elle to tell her I’d be late so I was anxious to leave. As I got to the door with the golf clubs she appeared from the kitchen holding a very dusty guitar case. Moving towards me she almost pleaded with me to take it... for free... just to get it out of her pantry. She added that she didn’t know if it would even work as it had been at least five years since it had been out of the case. She told Bret to take it out to the car for me with a big smile on her face. At the car I turned to thank Bret’s parents but they’d stayed in the house. As I said, it was like a lottery win for me.

Naturally, Elle wasn’t happy when I appeared at the kitchen door because I hadn't called. But, when I put the guitar case on the floor a big smile appeared. She had the guitar out of the case before I even got my coat off. Not knowing anything about guitars it looked good to me. The finish on it still shone but when she went to pluck the strings it was another story. Two broke as soon as she touched them. It made sense that it would need new strings... a small price to pay. I told her about the golf clubs but since dinner was already late she made me wait to show her.

Bret hadn’t told me how long it had been since his father had played but a look at the clubs (the irons) told me it had been quite a while. I spent over an hour working on them to make them at least presentable when I showed up for the next session at school. The last one had four women show up which was a lot better than the previous one. When signing up I’d noticed two that were both decent looking and had the potential to give off some nice VPL’s. I made a point of getting a position next to and a bit behind one of them. The instructor was teaching us how to use a ‘driver’ and had two groups going at the same time. On the walls behind the basketball backboards they’d hung heavy pads to keep the basketball players from crashing into the hard walls. The plastic wiffle balls we used would hit the pad and fall to the floor. After hitting eight or nine of them he’d blow a whistle to signal time out to pick the balls up. It was just what I was waiting for.

To be continued...

ANOTHER YEAR... onward! (Part 152f)

ANOTHER YEAR... onward! (Part 152f)

If I could do it over I’d do it differently but... Jerry was standing behind his desk and I moved right in front of him. He was about 5’10“ and I was 6’1” (no longer!) so I was looking down on him. At 160 pounds I certainly wasn’t all that intimidating. The look on his face spoke volumes and he certainly looked frightened as I almost shouted at him “Who do you work for?” when he didn’t answer I upped the volume a bit... “Who’s paying you?“. With still no response I was livid. Hobie, with his desk now located under the stairs and on the opposite side of the lobby heard me and had reached the gate to the ‘platform’ when I unloaded on him...”You don’t make the decisions on what accounts to offer and not offer!“ When I realized Hobie was there I stopped. Of course he wanted to know what was going on. I was too upset to give a rational answer and deferred to Bret to try and explain. Within a minute both Hobie, Jerry and Bret were gone, headed for Hobie’s new office area.

It took a few moments to calm down. When Bret returned I asked him what he’d told Hobie. Smartly, I thought, he added his observation of Jerry giving wrong information to customers. I knew there would be a price to pay but in less than a week of employment Jerry had done nothing to make me feel comfortable with him. In a few months he’d be off on his own at the branch without anyone watching what he was doing or saying. I smelled trouble.

Jerry was back to his desk in less than ten minutes but it was noticeable that he wouldn’t look towards Bret or I as he took his seat. I sat there waiting for the phone to ring fully expecting Hobie to ream me out. It never rang and I never saw Hobie for the rest of the day. But I just had a feeling that the matter wasn’t over. It was on Friday night that the ‘shoe dropped’.

It was Bret’s night to work until 6pm and as I was putting my coat on in the coat room Hobie stuck his head in and asked me to walk with him to our cars. I remember that it was starting to snow. It was just ‘small talk’ until we got to the cars. Then he, calmly, stated that we were going to have to ”live with Jerry, warts and all.“ He went on to say his future with the bank was ”a given“ and that we needed to ”educate“ him and that we had over four months to do just that. However, he added that he understood my frustration but also that I had to find a way to ”tone it down“. Then he asked if I thought I could do it. I told him I could but as we said our ”good nights“ I wondered it was actually possible. I think I sat in the car for at least five minutes before putting the key in the ignition.

It was around this time that my father surprised me one day at work. He hadn’t been in to see me since right after my grandfather had died. I asked what brought him to town and he proceeded to hand me an envelope. I asked him what it was and he told me to open it. Believe me... this was not like my father, at all. I ripped it open and there was a hundred dollar bill right on top. I pulled it out only to find more bills behind it. Counting it all out it was over $170. I remember shaking my head and I know I had to have had a puzzled look on my face.

It’s a long story and I won’t bore you with the details. It had to do with a wrong assessment on a piece of property owned by members of my family for over 125 years. When the modern property tax system was put into effect whoever plugged in the lot dimensions used the wrong numbers. My grandfather, old and with poor eyesight, never checked the calculations but just went ahead and paid the assessments. When he died my father was to inherit the property but before he did he noticed the error. Going to the assessors office he protested the numbers and, after about a year, got a refund on the overage. My brother was living with my parents (again) at that time and he suggested that my father split the “windfall’ between the two of us... and, for some reason, he decided to do it.

Looking down at the money in my hand I knew exactly where it was going... to Cliffy and his racecar! I knew I could scrounge the additional $25 together so, even with my father still standing there I was planning on getting in touch with Cliffy to tell him to count me into the partnership for his father’s racecar. I'm not sure I even thanked him for the money. Later, I knew there was no way I was going to tell Elle about the money. However, I would tell her about the racecar and that I was going to be a pit crew member. It wasn't a perfect solution but it seemed reasonable to me.

The first adult education night was a disappointment for me. Only one of the women who’d signed up showed. Forty something and a little on the plump side, I focused on what the instructor, an assistant professional at the country club, was exposing us to. Of the small group there it was obvious to me that I had a lot of work to do before I ever went on a golf course. For some unknown reason that woman decided to befriend me during the break. New to the area she thought that by taking some courses she would get the opportunity to meet local people. I found out that she had a daughter who had just flunked out of college and was asking if I knew of any jobs available. I didn’t but suggested that if she ever was in the town where the bank was located for her to stop by. She thanked me and we went back to the lessons, such as they were.

Elle had a much better feel for her class. The instructor, a music teacher at another high school, came with three guitars so everybody got a chance to pluck some strings. Elle was hooked after her first chords were played. At home she informed me that if she was to continue beyond the third lesson she’d need a guitar. I remember laughing thinking about the golf pro pretty much saying the same thing. By then getting a charge card was looking better and better. Even though we had the trust fund I knew that if I dipped into it I probably would never pay it back. With a charge card I’d be forced to make the payments. Another reason was that with the euphoria of our upcoming ”free“ trip to Florida we’d overlooked the fact that we’d have to have money to do any sightseeing. The room and meals were taken care of but that was all. It looked very much like I’d become an American Express cardholder and very soon.

To be continued...