A Summons to Memphis (Hollis)

A Summons to Memphis by Peter Taylor
Winner of Pulitzer Prize (1987)
Phillip Carver, middle aged New Yorker, receives call from sisters in Memphis. Octogenarian father, recently widowed, plans to marry a younger woman. Phillip is torn between interfering and letting his dad live the remainder of his life as he wants.
The call brings back memories: A move from Nashville to Memphis during Great Depression - his father's disruption of romances for all four of his children - older brother dies in WWII - three surviving children remain unmarried - Phillip's move to New York and his relationship with a younger woman.
Differences in Nashville and Memphis societies - responsibilities of parents - responsibilities of children to older parents - revenge vs. forgiveness.
This is a book that should not only be read, but studied.

They Cut Her Neck Off

Lingus Smoote was all upset this morning when he came into the barbershop. He was listening to a spot on the radio about the beheading of Ann Boleyn that, I think, happened on this day of the year all those years ago over in England. Lingus gave us his report.
"I heard on the radio where them English cut this woman's neck off. From what they said she warn't guilty of nothing, it was just that the king wanted to get rid of her so he could marry somebody else. It's hard for me to believe they is acting that way over there. We ought to write letters to their congressmen and their president to stop this kind of action. I, for my part, will not eat English peas, English muffins, London broil, or anything with England on it till they straighten all this out. Why just this morning I was looking for any of this stuff in our pantry and found in Maudie's tea box some English breakfast tea. Out. I throwed it out and good riddance."
Harpoone Dillery spoke, "First. To cut somebody's neck off would require two chops. I think they cut her head off. Second, this happened hundreds of years ago. They don't have beheadings in England anymore."
"Wrong," said Lingus. "I am sure they cut her neck off. If it took two chops so be it. And it was today. The reason I know is because the fellow on the radio said, 'Today in history.' And he said it twice at the beginning and at the end of his story. So there."
At that point everybody either picked up a magazine or went back to reading their newspapers.

Getting Ahead

Dorban Putz started a conversation down at the barbershop this morning. He said, "Them what has gets and them what ain't don't."
Harlow Jenkerson said "Well, I started with nothing, I mean nothing, and now I own three businesses. So you're not exactly right, Dorban."
Dorban lives down by the lake in a fishing trailer. He was married but his wife left him years ago. He makes his living rowing for fishermen and working around the fishing camp.
"Well, it may be, Harlow, but you got a lot of breaks," said Dorban.
"I'd say it was mostly hard work that brought me through," said Harlow. "I worked two jobs and went to school at night to get my degree."
"I never saw no need for schooling. I know some folks that went all the way through school and they ain't doing too good," replied Dorban. "Nope it warn't schoolin', it were just pure-de-oh bad luck, in my case."
"Yeah, I reckon you're right," said Harlow.
For my part I didn't see how any comment from me would advance the argument, one way or the other.

Fishing Car

Enos Windstrumb finally got rid of his old fishing car yesterday. His wife had been on his case because the car was literally falling apart. In fact, Enos had the good sense not to drive the car even a few miles out to the river. He called a charity that wanted old cars and when they took a look at it they said, "No way."
Last week, Enos' wife, Elda, had her car in the shop and Enos was out of town. She was scheduled to go to a baby shower. The event was held at the new apartment building and Elda took a chance and used the fishing car to get her there. She was in a hurry and got her instructions on where to park mixed up. Turned out she parked in a space that was reserved for one of the tenants. There was no name on the wall in front of the place where she left the old car, just a number.
When she left the party and came back to her car she found it was blocked in. At the office for the apartments they told her the space was reserved for a Dr. Whistlebone. When he was called, he refused to come and move his car stating that any fool who parked in his space would have to suffer the consequences. Elda got a ride home with a friend and left the old car there.
Next day, the Windstrumbs started receiving calls from the doctor asking them to come an unoccupy his space. After a few days his requests became pleas.
They never came back for the car and the poor doctor had to call a wrecker service to come and get the vehicle. When the wrecker arrived at the Windstrumb's house, Enos told them he had never seen that car before in his life. They took it to the dump and sent the doctor a bill for their service.
Down at the barbershop this morning, one of the fellows asked Enos to tell everybody about the proctologist who blocked in his car. Enos said, "He wasn't no proctologist." And the fellow said, "I figured he was from the way you described him."

Duty of an Ex-smoker

I used to smoke. But I gave it up when it got too inconvenient. My first wife Bethel wasn't one to nag but she had little ways to move me in the direction she wanted me to go. She never said a word against my cigarette habit, but I could tell by the look on her face that kissing somebody who had been puffing away all day was not a pleasant thing for her. I spent so much time deodorizing and washing away the after-effects of smoking that I just quit.

I have never considered it my duty to confront those who have continued to smoke. It bothers me to see people who persist in doing stupid things and I reckon smoking would have to be placed into that category. But I am not compelled to preach to them on the subject.

Not so with Dennis Dumble. Dennis smoked for forty years and after his third heart attack decided to quit. He became an anti-smoking missionary and walks up to any poor soul who is blowing smoke and chastises them in the most heated way. I have often wondered how he can get away with this without getting a black eye or busted nose, but he, so far, is unscathed. It may be because he is such a little man and looks like a single punch would send him to the afterlife. And it may be his thick glasses. We were all taught as youngsters not to ever hit a fellow who was wearing glasses. In fact, I overheard this fellow one day who was getting the full Dennis Dumble treatment say, "Whoa, fellow. Take off them glass and say that."

Anyway, like I said I ain't one to preach to anybody else. At least not until I am living a life that is free from all wrong. And since that ain't likely to happen all I can say is if you want to smoke, then smoke. But I still think that if you do you are stupid.

Mixed Greens

We got this new restaurant down by the county line that is run by this woman who was a chef down in New Orleans before the big storm. Her restaurant was flooded out and she moved up here and after a few years opened her place that she calls Health Is Us. Me and Dorothy went there last night and enjoyed (kinda) the servings. Dorothy had the vegetable plate. I figured it would be beans, corn, and tomatoes, but no. When it came out I had to ask what the things on the plate were. Turns out there was kale, parsnips, and chard. And there was a kind of soufflé that had cauliflower as the main ingredient. I got the veggie burger and a mixed green salad. It was okay, I reckon.

I was telling the fellows down at the barbershop about it. Lem Perkins was particularly interested in the mixed greens. He said that once when he was running short on mustard greens he added some collards and the dish turned out real good. I guess that chef from New Orleans ain't the only creative cook around here.

Watching the Radio

When I was a young'n the radio was about the best thing ever invented. Every day after school I would rush home for my favorite radio show: Jack Armstrong, the All American Boy. Jack was my hero. He was a good athlete and everybody's favorite, but what I liked best was his travels all around the world. Jack had this uncle who was called to duty to solve all kinds of problems in countries that I could only travel to by way of that old Philco sitting in my grandfather's living room. Luckily, the room was unoccupied at the four o'clock hour and I could take off my shoes and lie down on the floor and embark on trips to all those exotic places. I would stare at the cloth cover over the speakers and see the characters and the settings as clearly as if they were on a TV screen (at least that's how I remember it.) Years later they came out with a movie about Jack Armstrong. The actor playing Jack did not remotely resemble the character I had watched on the radio every afternoon. Man, was I disappointed. It was if the Jack I saw had died and this sissy-looking Hollywood type had moved into his house and taken over his life. There was just something about watching that old radio that can't be duplicated on a TV screen. Ain't imagination one of the best blessing we have been given.