It's The Little Things That Count

 I'm willing to wager the title heading of this blog piece has been uttered or thought by all of us hundreds of times. It's sometimes a good way to say I'll never win the lottery so I'll satisfy myself with this thought.

Yesterday, I received an email from a guy in my old home town. I don't know him personally because when I was growing up he was a 'big guy' and I was a 12 year old twerp. In his email he mentioned how much he enjoyed my blog. I was more than flattered. He went on to write that he especially enjoyed it when I wrote about my childhood experiences in Boone, Iowa. He isn't the first person to mention this; a fella from the Columbus area once wrote the same.

Anyway, this man stated that he sent the blog piecce onto some of his buddies to read. About the little things in life: What this man, I'll call him Steve, said about my blog fulfilled the 'little things in life" mantra. It's as if I was The Beaver and he was Wally and he took me to the carnival instead of going with Eddie and Lumpy.

So, in bed last night I was thinking about personal experiences in Boone. In order for me to write those I need a spark. I can't sit down and say I'm going to write about my town. It doesn't work that way.

And it's difficult for me to write about my experiences with 'The Big Guys'. I only knew about them from an older brother or hanging out at the Y where we played basketball and had some upscale games as ping pong and a hockey board. The puck was a checker. Our sticks were just that; sticks and we tried to put the checker through a hole at the end of the board. Kids today would scoff at our attempts at fun. Hey, you little punks, we made out own fun----and liked it.

I'll try to do better about my home town. I do believe everybody, especially those of us who grew up in towns of under 20,000 can relate.

I've all along when talking about Boone have said jokingly, it's a town of nothing. That's not true. It is the town of Mamie Eisenhower. Other than that it's a place where a kid could stay out at night until whenever. Usually when I was out in the summer I was picking up nightcrawlers Marv Elvert's yard. The place was a gold mine. Then I'd sell them for 25 cents a dozen.

So, thanks to Steve. He got me off the political kick for today. 

Boone, Iowa, the home of nothing except good, solid hard working people.