Are you building your boat?

I woke up this morning thinking about my old friend Albert Runyan. Albert and I became aquaintances one day we were each having coffee alone at the corner cafe. He smirked out loud about something he was reading from the paper about then President Nixon. From there we started chatting and over 40 years later we're still fast friends. To say that Albert never really set the world on fire would be a fair and accurate assessment. Albert was not one to have any great desire to climb Everest, or go on big game hunting safari's. Albert is just a regular guy, worked at the feed-mill in Earlham all his life, came home to watch his kids play basketball. Went to church every Sunday and, built a Titantic sized boat in the pasture of his backyard that is now over 3 football fields long, almost 3 stories tall and right at 173 feet wide at the middle.

Let me tell you how this all started. One hot as all get out afternoon, Albert and I were sitting out under a big tree in his back yard enjoying some lemonades. I looked way out onto his pasture and noticed a bunch of wood in a pile. Nothing fancy just scraps of lumber some tar paper and that type of stuff. It looked like someone had torn down a building and snuck onto Albert's property one night to dump it. I asked Albert "Whats that mess?" He said "That's no mess, that's my boat!" Now I sure didn't see a boat in there but what I was able to see didn't matter. Albert saw it. I says "Uh Albert, We're living in the middle of Iowa. We aint even got a decent lake within a hundred miles. He says "I'll worry about that when I get her all done". I did mention that this was 1973 didn't I? Every few months I'd get over to Albert's and the boat would have taken on new a form. It didn't really look like a boat, more like a shack you see down by the river where the homeless make up camps. Albert continued on. He would find scraps of lumber, wood, nails and every night after work or after the kids went to bed he would find a few minutes to pound a few nails or cut a few boards. This was his passion, his therapy.

About 1980 this thing had taken on the size of a small house. That is when the city came calling. They said he needed building permits, plumbing permits, zoning permits. Albert simply said, 'I ain't building no building, I'm building a boat" The city elders couldn't figure out what to do next so they left him alone and every few years would try to send over an inspector or someone to do some snooping. About 1990 this thing had now grown to over 200 feet long and was taking up a lot of his 40 acres of pasture. The goats were grazing around it but Albert kept on sawing and cutting and pounding and nailing. This thing suddenly was becoming a bit of a local attraction and people from Cedar County and Omaha would take Sunday drives to cruise past on a the dusty gravel just on the edge of Earlham. One day a photographer came by from the Dubuque Herald and took some pictures. They put it in the see Iowa section of the Sunday paper and suddenly Albert had gone from "Kook" to a Visionary, Artistic, Expansive, Creative urban artist. He said "I'm just cutting up some old lumber and building a boat"

Today, Alberts about as old as me, he can't do much more on that monster that appears to be floating in his field. It's been his enjoyment for over 40 years. Albert says "I sure missed a lot of good TV shows building that thing"

Through the years, Alberts kids have had a lot of fun and a great life in Earlham. They've grown up into just regular folks doing regular jobs. They probably won't ever set the world on fire either. They raise their kids and go to church every Sunday. They'll probably inherit Albert's acreage and have to do something with Albert's boat at some point as well.

Albert and his boat will never see water and if it does we're all in a lot of trouble. But Albert saw that boat sitting in his field over 40 years ago when it was just a few boards.

Do you have that kind of vision? Your vision doesn't have to be huge dreams. Just something that fuels your passion, keeps you on the straight and narrow. Allows you to get away from it all for awhile. There is a lot of stress going on in the world right now. People are losing their homes, going bankrupt, losing jobs. Albert's world had all of that as well. He had energy crisis, farm crisis, terror crisis, job crisis, but he didn't bury his head in a computer or sit and fret over the newscasters Horror Stories, he went out and pounded a few nails and had a beer or two.

He would sit in the middle of his Iowa pasture on his boat with his kids as they relayed their stories of their days. Those kids went from spilling their crayons all over the ground, to bringing home their girlfriends to show off their Dad's boat. Today those kids bring their own kids to tear around on the "Portside Deck" and play down in the "Galley" Albert and his children would spend hours on that boat not looking at oceanic sunsets, but at hawks swooping down to catch a field mouse. Do you think those kids cared? I doubt it. That boat is as much a part of their lives and vision as it is Alberts, and mine, and now yours.

I hope you've got a boat you're building. Something that gives you a reason to get up every day and pound a few nails. We'll get through this together and if it comes worse to worse, lets push that old boat into the river and float on down to Nawlins!

Have a good day, now leave me alone I've got a lot of important stuff to do today. Buford.

Salve Applicator Specialist Needed Immediately

So early this morning Wendell comes by to check on me and get my breakfast ready. Today being Friday is my topical application day. This is the one day that just about every ointment and medicinal salve that has been prescribed to preserve Buford is applied.

So I like to start with the couple of huge old Plantar warts that I got on the heel of my left foot. When Wendell came in today, I had my foot bared, propped up on a pillow and said "Wendell, start a rubbing". Well he squirted a bunch outta the tube, slathered it on with absolutely no care whatsover and walked into the kitchen. Well to say that this left me a little perturbed is an understatement. Now, I realize that being 80 years old, I may have a few more ointments that need applicated than most, but I don't think I'm asking anyone to go above and beyond the normal job of what everyone else in America does!

Well, Wendell is a helluva cook, can clean my house to withstand a Martha Stewart white glove treatment and he still lets me have a couple of shots of whiskey every night so I'll keep him around but as of right now he is OFFFFFFF my ointment application. Hear Me Dude?

So, here is a basic rundown, I need someone to come by anywhere from 15 to 60 minutes every day. The day will vary depending on the prescriptions. I like to have my salves and ointments applied early in the day so they have the whole day to work and do their jobs. I don't want greasy bedsheets caused by some dim-wit that doesn't understand the proper way to massage in an ointment.

Your job description is this. Let's get the ugly ones out of the way first. These are the ones that are generally unpleasant for both of us. I've got a bit of an extra skin fold under my right armpit. Been there since I lost a buncha weight a few years back. This one needs daily moisturize and massaged about 8 minutes. I've got the aforementioned Plantar that needs to be rubbed with an emory board and then the wart acid applied, re-emory board after 15 minutes and then reapplied.

I seem to have a bit of a moisture problem in the overall groinage area. This has caused an odd looking fungi to sprout on occassion. I've got a very soothing cream that will need to be applied and rubbed in quite deeply. Several years ago, I had an accident that I severely gouged my inner right thigh. It has taken a long time for that scar to heal properly due to my age. I've got a balm that needs to be applied daily. From there we flip over and you will notice I've got several large protuding hemoroids that are clinging on for dear life. Your job will be to apply one of two ointments (both prescription) to these bad boys. Wendell was making good headway on these but again, has chosen to go in a different direction. I flip back over onto my back and we work on a belly button dryness issue. I've got a peculiarly large and deep belly button. It tends to accumulate a lot of lint causing a severe dryness. This requires you to carefully tweeze out all of the lint, clean the button with a cotton swab, apply a moisturize to your pinky finger and insert about 3 inches into my belly button. Massage this very carefully to avoid irritation (both belly and Buford)

Those are the unpleasant ointments. From there we lighten up the application process. I still am holding onto hope and clinging on to a few remaining hair buds! We do a 12 minute massage of the minoxodil into the Buford scalp and let that soak in, then reapply for good measure. A few years ago, I had a few sun spots removed offa my nose so you'll need to apply a good spf 25 suncreen to that area. I also seem to have a peculiar growth just under my left buttock. That I've been to the clinic several times, they keep on trying new things. Currently there is a very thick browish oil that we're applying. Be aware this will leave your hands quite brown for several days after each application, even through gloves.

Finally we let these ointments dry for 10 to 15 minutes and enjoy a cup of coffee together. Then, we do an entire body moisturizer rub down. Simply start at the top and apply liberal dosages of moisturizer and rub deeply to every inch of my body. And that is it. Do you see a HUGE DEAL in this? No, me either. Simple.

So, I'm sorry to say Wendell you are off the job and your pay will be adjusted accordingly. I hope you can survive without that extra $5 per hour every day. You my friend are no longer my Salve Applicator. I don't mean for this to sound harsh, but your dis-interest in my Plantars this morning proved to me that you no longer take pride in your ointment applicating the way you once did. You can continue to cook and clean but I'll be taking applications for a new Ointment Applicator beginning immediately.

I'll need someone to come by this afternoon to begin. My rear end is screaming for some relief and Wendell is off the job as of this notice. Thank you for applying. A small interview and background check will be required and of course you'll be required to sign a privacy agreement that you won't be releasing information to the media or taking photos of Bufords privates to release on TMZ or sell them to any tabloids.

I'm looking for a Trophy Wife - Housewives of Butler County you're on notice!

So, I was watching the TV last night with Wendell, soaking up a mighty fine Templeton Rye Whiskey. Wendell had on the Housewives of Orange County and we were watching those ladies tear each other up and laughing our behinds off. About 1/2 way through the show, it struck me, I said to myself and Wendell. "Buford, you need yourself a trophy wife" There was one old boy on there that escorts this lady around town. This old dude can barely walk and this young chicky is out literally running circles around this guy like a yapping puppy at a mailman.

So, I'm a realist, I have no desire to roll someone 40 years my junior around the city but I'm thinking 55 to 65 years of age, not too long in the tooth would be a good trophy wife candidate.

Now, I know old Buford has got several of the ladies of the Appanoose County Red Hat Club that anxiously await each of my postings and before they all grab their walkers and trot for their e-mails, let me put up a few criteria of what you need to bring to the table and what you'll be getting in return for being my trophy wife.

First off, let me warn you, being a wife of Buford appears to have some hazard. You'll be bride number 7. I've had more wives than dogs, so that should tell ya something. In fairness to myself, I had a bad run back in 1957 and lost 2 wives within 6 months of each other. Those were wild times, I was running with the Basilicians Motorcycle Club out of Dyersville and when I say lost I literally mean lost. We were camping out in the Rocky Mountains on one road trip, Ms Greta wandered off to do her morning constitutional and didn't come back. Well I looked 15 -20 minutes but when the Basilicians decide it is time to ride, it is time to ride, if you aint on the bike, find your own way back. I never did see Ms. Greta again.

3 months later I was doing a run with Grizzly. He looked over at me and said "Altar-Boy, let's head our asses to Vegas". We did, long story short, I met a fine-looking showgirl with a nice ankle. I said "Darling, you're Bufords next wife" She looked at me, said, "I guess you'll do". We hitched up in a chapel and celebrated all the way down route 66 through the south. One afternoon we pulled into a gas station, She said, "Buford, my ass is sore from riding 300 miles without stopping" "Can we stay here for the night"? Now, back then I had a firm rule of 400 miles per day, so this comment kind of struck me as a little off-handed. I thought to myself. "How did I get hitched up with such a spoiled thing"? I said "Sure Ms. Misty, We can stay for the night. Go check into that fancy Ramada Inn over there, I'm going to gas up the Hog and I'll be back." Well as far as I know, Ms. Misty may still be waiting at that fancy Ramada which should have been her first clue. No Pickleberry ever stayed at a Ramada back then. If I ever get to Alabama, I may check it out, she's probably working the front desk.

So, that brings me to today. What does the next Mrs. Pickleberry get out of the honor of adorning her checkbook with the name Pickleberry?

1. First and foremost, I've still got a full head of hair. Now mind you, there is not much on top but it comes out of every other hole on my head. Nose, Ears, Face, eyebrows. So I'm pretty good there.
   
2. Secondly, I'm on very few medications. I've got about 17 different things that I take here and there but nothing that a few shots of Mr. Jim Beam can't cure much faster.
   
3. I have a house of my own. Its 568 square feet of pure Bufordness, just enough that takes Wendell about 20 minutes to clean and I can hear the bacon sizzling from the kitchen when I'm laying in bed.
4. I can still drive. The state of Iowa won't let me "legally" but Wendell let's me tear around the Hy-Vee parking lot at night somtimes. I've got a 68' Panhead parked in the back garage and when I get loaded up on my anti-vertigo medicine enough that the dizzy-ness goes away for awhile I still fire that old girl up and head around Saylorville Lake.
   
5. I've got money. We won't be sharing that, you do need to bring your own to the table but you won't have to worry about me taking any of yours.
   
6. I'm still semi-gainfully employed. I don't work much anymore but I still get invited to give a speech now and then or a high school graduation commencement every year. Those Rotary characters in Urbandale are a hoot and I can get them laughing so hard they squirt their lemonade right outta their noses. I've learned that I can't give luncheon talks to the Red Hat groups any longer. Let's just say there's enough widows in those groups that when I stand up to give my talk, I start to feel like a roll of salami hanging in the Deli. I can see their minds wandering and they aint thinking about my "how to find an honest car mechanic" speech.
   
7. I should have a ticket straight past the pearly gates into heaven. For almost 50 years I've been a member in good standing at Holy Trinity Church of Perpetual Guilt in Des Moines Parish. Even when I was on the road, I would weekly send in my dollar. I figure I've got over $2500 invested in my pathway to heaven. Sure I ain't gonna be sitting in the front row up there but like I said, Buford don't need a Ramada. I figure the next Mrs Pickleberry is probably gonna get a free ride alongside. So, in advance "You're Welcome"
   

So, Dan's coming by today. He checks on me Wednesday's. Fixes my lunch and makes sure things all good around the castle. Said on the phone he's bringing Chicken Breast and Shiratake Noodles. I better have a shot of Whiskey to get those things down. I'm gonna go take a look outside sposed to be 60 degrees in Des Moines today. Thinking about firing up the panhead. I'll write up those Trophy Wife requirements next time. You'll have to wait to see if you qualify. Thats all I got for today. Now leave me alone, I've got important things to do.

Now we know the rest of the story!

It's a sad day in Bufordville. Got up enjoying a good cup of coffee, Wendell's helping me out today so that means bacon and eggs not Tofu and crap for breakfast. I got the CNN headlines on and the gal tells me my good friend Paul Harvey has died. I haven't seen or spoken to Paul in the last few years but we've always kept in touch via letters and the last few years via the e-mail system.

I first me Paul who was a few years older than me sometime in the early 50's. He was working at WENR in Chicago and I was across town at WGN where I did the daily "commentation of the station" show and hosted the "Friday Night Barn Burner" Lively little local music and dance show quite popular back then. Paul was already pretty legendary in the industry and working for the same affiliate we would often "trade talent" back and forth. One Friday night Paul was filling in for whoever came on before my show and as I was getting ready he asks me if I mind if he hangs around for the Barn Burner. I said we do things a little different around here on Friday night Paul and I put a bottle of whiskey up on the console, strapped on the headphones and blasted out the Dunkerton Domino's latest record. Well needless to say by the time we were done with the night Paul and I were fast friends. He'd come around a lot of Fridays and we would hoot it up and then go out on the town for a cold beer and Chicago dog.

As my career took me across the country with various stops along the way, I didn't get to see Paul as often but would phone him and we wrote a lot of letters. Of course I would hear my friends almost every single day on the radio wherever I was.

We would cross paths on the speaking tours quite a bit, we had the same promoter and this guy put together the large event speaking events with 10 to 15 "Big Names" Tony Robbins, Mayor Guliani, Mr's Fields Cookies, Buford Pickleberry, Fran Tarkenton, Paul Harvey. Those kinds of events. We would always room beside each other and just have the best of laughs.

I give credit to Paul for encouraging old Buford to hang onto the Pickleberry handle. Way back when a station manager called me into his office and says "Buford you're an incredible talent and you're going places. But this Pickleberry name you got going isn't happening man" We gotta get you a new handle. That night I went home and threw around a dozen new "Radio Names" Buford Pickle, Buford Berry, Boo Berry, Pickle Boo, Hell I think I even considered Chuck Berry. I called up Paul and said "the old man wants me to get a more radio friendly name" Paul says. I can't think of anything that will take you further in life than your own God given, incredibly unique handle Buford M. Pickleberry" Paul said "Hold onto that name it's one people will remember"

I did, they have and now to borrow from my good friend who I will miss very much "Now you know the rest of the Story" Good Day!

Sandy and Walli Torgelston

Earlier today Wendell came by and dropped off a 24 pound bag of potatos. Got em at Hy-Vee. He said they were on sale. Now mind you I eat about 1 potato every 3 to 4 weeks so those spuds should last me about the next 3 and 1/2 years. By then I'll be up to my ears in eyes if you know what I mean.

So, I was elbow deep doing a complete motor overhaul on Walli Torgelston's blender. That thing has lasted those tight wads about 19 years. It's an old Oster and while those Osters were built to last this one should have been put into the landfill about 8 years ago. It's been getting more and more use over the years and Sandy drops it off about once a week to have me tighten up the footpads, or sharpen up the rotors, or put a new seal around the pitcher gasket. This time it was the motor. Now a good Oster motor will run ya right at about 11 dollars and that is my wholesale price straight outta the MT Supply Catalog in Wabashua Wisconsin.

I says to Sandy "it sure seems that this old girl is getting used more and more every day". Sandy says, "Well I got a little magic potion that I whip up for Walli every morning. Believe me, if he knew what was in there he wouldn't take it at all. Let's just say his pancakes also got a little magic Blue Pill all ground up". I give this old bird a little of the smirky squint eye and I says "you mean the Big V"? She said that "Thats right" "Walli eats about 3 of those pancakes and by the time he's finishing his morning constitutional... Well lets' just say some days I've got to make up the bed 3 or 4 times a day"!

She says "I don't know how long that old heart of his will hold out but its a risk I'm willin to take"

So Sandy gives me a little smile and says "Hurry up and get that blender fixed Buford" Mama needs Papa to enjoy his Pancakes today.

I give the old girl a little slap on the behind and she turns about as pretty a flush as I've ever seen a gal turn. I first knew Sandy way back in about 1962 or 3. She was an elementary school teacher and they had me in to give a group of senior boys a little presentation on the dangers of smokin the devil's lettuce. I had some experience from my days of running with the Basilicians Motorcycle Club out of Dyersville. Sandy made the introductions to the assembly that day and after school we had ourselves a couple of drinks at Boomers downtown. She was quite the bird and I've had my eye on her since then. Walli's been a pretty good man through the years and he's kept her pretty happy.

After Sandy took off I wired the new motor in that blender this morning. I was just about to give Sandy a call let her know it was done and thought. Maybe I'll give Walli an extra day or two, let him give that old heart a rest. He probably needs to go do some ice fishing or something.

So, I better do a few pushups and a few situps here tonight as well. Just in case tomorrow is Walli's last pancake, I'll be sure to let Sandy know that Ol Buford is in the line-up and can eat 3 or 4 pancakes a day as well!

Night all.

One more thought before I get to bed

I'm off to the sack pretty soon. I like to get 2 shots of whiskey lined up on the bedstand. I watch Johnny Carson, now I know it ain't Johnny Carson and I understand it's going to be another new one pretty soon but I said I was watching Johnny Carson for so long that I still call young Mr. Leno Johnny Carson. Drives Dan and Wendell crazy. Wendells checking on me this week. Gets my meds lined up, makes sure my computers shut off and that the stove is off so I don't burn the damn place down. He has a shot with me and then when Mr. Leno gets that band playing after his jokes. I shut the TV off, finish the second shot and I sleep like a baby. I been doing that for 60 years and would like to say never been sick a day in my life. That aint true but I've sure slept well. Thats all I got for tonight. Now leave me alone. Let me know you got this - Buford Pickleberry.

First Written Item

So, I've been writing for almost 70 years. I would not say I'm good at it but I'm gettin better every day. I mostly write things now to keep the citizens of this great city informed of what those that consider themselves in charge are doing. I keep em on the straight and narrow if I can. Wendall and Dan call on me about every day. I can do most things round here but they help with the cleaning and keeping my meds lined up on the counter. They showed me this website and I aint so old that I aint been around the internet. First got on it way back in 1990 something working for the Wilson Leader out of Ohio. Been around computers since I was in my sixties. Used em all the time when I was doing my speaking tours. So, the mind is sharp, the body is willing but the bones aint always wanting. I'll stop by here every day or so and pop down some ideas before I die. That's all I got for now, leave me alone and let me know you got this. - Buford Pickleberry.