Opinion

For your reading enjoyment, we continue to publish Rambling Vines by the late Marylea Vines as she recalls events and names of Corning folks from many years ago. We are currently in the year 1989 We went fishing recently weekend… boy, did we ever go fishing! We not only got caught in three downpours of rain, nearly got stuck in the mid two or three times, got muddy from head to toe (ever tried walking on wet gumbo?), we managed to catch something like 4050 pounds of catfish! Our whole fishing trip was a comedy of errors, but everything worked out just fine and when it wasn’t pouring rain, it was cloudy, making it pleasant for fishing.

It takes a good dose of self respect to navigate this world and live your best life. The world can be a mean place.

The mule team coming into West Second, from Vine, give the tural touch to an automobile-less street when you could saunter across at will. The crowd at the far end of the scene is gathered in front of Steinberg’s store, located at that time in the new Hopson Brick addition to the East side of the street. Steinbergs featured Brown Shoes and the attracton was “Buster Brown and his dog, Tige” who were showing in the afternoon in front of the Steinberg store.

This column was published previously on June 18, 2020 in the Clay County Courier. It has been modified.

For your reading enjoyment, we continue to publish Rambling Vines by the late Marylea Vines as she recalls events and names of Corning folks from many years ago. We are currently in the year 1989 Well, I’ve been there, been inside and seen it, but I still don’t understand how they make electricity! (I’ve been years trying to figure out how the telephone and radio work.

I was born on the soil of this world. I walked the face of it, for there was no other way to go. Just as I got used to it, someone found that we could ride horse and donkeys, and that they would carry us in carriages. But just as I got used to it, they found they could use steam and make boats and trains that would run by themselves. We could go on like this for days, through the internal combustion engine, jet power, rockets, electricity, you name it. Somewhere inside the heart of man lies a damper that he sometimes uses to shut off his desire for progress. No, it is not something new. Like that infernal internet, it is anything that is out of the ordinary. We must be careful and be aware that our infatuation with “nostalgia” is just that, an infatuation. It is merely our perception of a time past when we were particularly happy, or maybe just young. Nostalgia is not a sure sign of when things were good and now they are bad. It is just when they were different, and you were comfortable at the time. Remember when cars didn’t have seat belts? Then when they did, people swore to rebel and not fasten them. That thinking is more or less the same thinking that parallels “Russian roulette” - the game where you put a bullet in a revolver and hold it to your head and pull the trigger and see if the weapon fires. Sooner or later, your luck will run out. I am not saying that you have to jump on the band wagon with every new fad that comes out, Heavens no! Just be willing to investigate, and keep an open mind. I will use Facebook for an example. You know, that social media platform that was invented by the nerdy guy to help get dates from college girls; Mr. Zuckerberg. I have so many friends that cry that they have to get off it, it is ruining their lives, there is so much hate and discontent. Yes, there is that. But they have methods of blocking those people with that content. I have met so many new friends, old vets like myself, renewed acquaintances, and far away

I’m always looking for the honorable qualities in people who exhibit the traits of my grandparents’ generation. I admire that era called the Greatest Generation.

For your reading enjoyment, we continue to publish Rambling Vines by the late Marylea Vines as she recalls events and names of Corning folks from many years ago. We are currently in the year 1989 The days are winding down to the big annual Fourth of July Celebration in Wynn Park.

Regardless what belief you might have about the birth of mankind, and the makeup of the human being, we must be grateful for the senses. There is sight and hearing and taste and smell, and lastly comes the one that, most times, gives the most contentment, touch. I will not base these assumptions on scientific research, or medical practice, but only from the findings of my heart. In all these long years of my life, I have had different levels of awareness. When I was about 22 or 23, I became aware that my senses had been strengthened, made more acute. At least that is the way I felt. Perhaps it was merely a wishful thought, or perhaps they were only brought to a more intent focus than before. I grew up in the country. I lived in the midst of the 20th century and in a place that was ripe with nature. With all its different characteristics, it was ripe with fragrance. Honeysuckle and jasmine and roses. The scents of the woods, and the scents of the wood as we harvested those woods. I lived with cows and horses and chickens and other farm related beasts. One might say they might not be the most soothing, but in a way, they are. The breath of a young calf or colt, the smell of a puppy or kitten. The smell of fresh hay in a barn. In my military service, I found my sense of smell in the jungles of Viet Nam to be amplified. Amplified to a point that it saved me from perhaps, misfortune. For the past 32 years, I have been in the Essential Oil and Fragrance business. That has been an education in itself. My eyes have seen great beauty, in all the wonders of the world - the jungles of Asia, the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, the deserts of Arizona, and numerous places in our country. Sight has brought pleasure in art - in our fellow creatures on the earth, the animals, the birds, even some of the insects. And the beauties of our fellow man and woman. The beauty of man, of both genders, are uplifting and inspiring, as they display the talents they are born with. I have learned wi