Rhoades Family Blog

The Rhoades Family Blog is a way for the members of the Wm. W. Rhoades, Jr. family to stay in touch. This website is exclusively for family and friends.

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Location: Marietta, Georgia, United States

I am a writer of great songs that you can hear on MySpace.com/eddierhoades and that's only a sampling of what I do live. I hope you delve into the archived blogs

Friday, September 18, 2009

I'm In Trouble

I'm In Trouble
Do you know the three words you hate to hear when you are having sex? They are: "Honey I'm home."
That just happened to me and I am in deep trouble. My wife came home and caught me in bed with a little midget woman. She started screaming and crying and pitching a fit and said "You promised me you wouldn't run around on me anymore." To which I replied "Well, you can see I've cut down."
By the way, I finally figured out why my eyes burn so much during sex: It's the mace.

Remembering Mico Acuna & John Tecumseh

I am going to quote this from memory:
"My way of life has fallen into the sear, the yellow leaf and that which should accompany old age such as honor, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have but in their stead, mouth-honor, breath which the poor heart would fain deny but dare not." MACBETH

I have been searching the Internet for two guys who were my best friends while I was in the Army. The first is John Tecumseh. He was a few years older than me but accepted a green recruit as a friend. He was the same height as me, 5'6" but I weighed 123 lbs and he weighed 215 lbs. He had no neck. His massive shoulders seemed to join his head. I didn't realize the Tecumseh name was famous. He said he was a full-blooded Creek Indian. Because of his build everyone called him Bull. Once in a bar the barmaid clutched his huge bicep and said "I see why they call you Bull." and he replied "That aint it." That's the first time I ever saw one of those barmaids blush. We corresponded a little after I left the Army and he told me he had a son and named him Eddie Tecumseh. I have searched the Internet looking for Eddie also as I feel he was named in my honor.
The second friend was a Spanish-American named Mico Acuna' We called him Mike. He was a young, muscular guy that, when I first saw him, I thought he was Indian also but his heritage was Mexican. He was incredibly strong and brave and just lots of fun to be around. I remember one Saturday morning for no reason he did 200 situps. I said I could do that and did. Later I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach I was so sore. This guy cut his own hair - even in the back. He taught me the words to the Ritchie Valens song La Bamba which I still perform. I guess the point is those guys had a positive influence on me and were good friends and great Americans and I wish I could tell them that I think about them often and will never forget them.

Driving Is Driving Me Crazy

Driving Is Driving Me Crazy
I saw a bumper sticker that said "I drive like you do." Aside from the dangling participle, it brings out a valid point. We all drive a little crazy at times. Of course we think we are good drivers but ask yourself the following questions:
Does it upset you when someone tailgates you?
Have you ever been in a hurry and tailgated the person ahead of you?
The realization that I did both of these things has caused me to become a better driver. I am beginning to respect the right of the other driver to drive at whatever speed they are comfortable with. If I need to be somewhere in a hurry then I should make a decision to leave the house five minutes sooner so I won't have to rush and most of all won't have to be upset with others for "holding me up" Lots of times in our rush to get around someone we don't even think of the fact that when we pass them it's only going to be fifty feet before we are on someone elses bumper. Then what?
Based on the fact that I hate to be honked at I have made a decision not to honk at others even though I have the advantage of driving a car with a "real" horn (it sounds like a Mack truck) and not one of those wimpy, high-pitched modern horns. They shouldn't even call those things horns, they should call them whiney beepers. Underlying all this is the fact we need to relax and enjoy driving as much as possible. Everyone knows driving too fast is dangerous but my slow-poke sister has made me aware that driving too slow can be equally dangerous. The too fast crowd is out there on the expressways driving like maniacs, jockeying for position, leaping in front of each other and switching lanes like some motorized version of salmon swimming upstream. Me? I'm retired now so I tend to take things at a more relaxed pace. It doesn't bother me but it sure does bother the salmon.