Chapter  2               "Family"        
         Things were not all ways that bad as I reminisce upon crouching on the front deck of my gran-father's porch .Im now taking you on a tedious  fun ,fact filled journey into the abyss of my feckless exit of childhood.
I had just finished dumping my last load of sand ,out of my over worked,under paid Tonka Truck,and was  calling it a day,as I was the operator, driver & mechanic for a  company Davis Dump Truck Service {jr}. llc, just like my dad,and his before him.Right as I parked my Mack{tonka} truck next to the steps,Granny J { we shall call her } was  saying"Lil Ricky,come on in hunn, they're bout to be here,And I got you a lil somthing". Now  you  listened to this woman cause she makes the Worlds best Strawberry cake,and the last thing you want to do is piss her off,For there was about to be twelve,thirteen  tired hungry truck driver's  pouring in that front door, from where the sweet aroma came running out,and slapped you right in the face, just like on those old "Tom & Jerry" cartoon's,and her strawberry cake on pay-day was legendary.Just then a convoy of Mack trucks roared their way into the yard,clawing over the  limestone driveway, searching for a comfy spot to rest for the evening.Right behind them dogs was my Gran-Pa's red Ford pick up. Mr. C was parking his old red , directly in front of the  gate, that reached across the limestone,splitting it in half,with razor wire  from the Livingston prison site,stretched   through the top. As Mr.C got out, he pull up his pants,cause us Davis's have a curse,the droopy ass curse,and I guess we never really thought to buy a damn belt,well not for work anyhow, splash his brow with some of that  cologne R.L. Chaps or  as he called it" Liquid Panti-Dropper".With that done,he'd reach in, grab his paperwork and the envelope ,wallet, and march into the dinning room. id be waiting in the waiting room\living room, till he was seated.Granny J would then hand him a glass of  iced milk,with banana's cut up  in it.Yes this was  his routine, come home on Friday, sit in "his" chair, write & hand out the payroll,all the while sipping on lactating cow fluid,iced,& intruded with chopped up nanna's.{ call it a red-neck smoothie,Im just sayin}Once he had his first taste of  smoothie,Id' climb up into his lap, careful not to get in his way of  the giant calculator thingy,the one withe the drawing paper coming out, cause he was about to be just a yelling and screemin with out me interferein'.The  driver's were usually in the living room,waiting for Pa to call'em in,as they'd wait were usually discussing their day or week, ending up in  an argument,over what driver was the best at whatever,or who had the most loads.When the fighting began,One driver in particular,Flop,a Gigantic man of 6'4",and carried  the weight of roughly triple the average human, would spill out the latest greatest joke, the result,all of them laughing hysterically,my favorite driver of them all,well spoken, and I believe he did a few years in the pen. Did not matter to me, cause to me, he did no wrong. Flop was a people person,and his jokes are what kept all the tension at bay. By now Pa was ready and he'd call the first one in, and I would give them the stink eye,as well as a California howdy, flipping the bird to each and every one of "em ,as they were the reason Pa was soo mad all the time,either fuel bill,or  mechanical issues, being late,and of course they'd be gettin into his wallet,I did not like that .Mr. C and Granny J had four kids,my Aunt Mary,Uncle Robbie,my dad{Ricky Sr.}and uncle Randy. Randy was the youngest of them,only 12 when I came out, was givin the handle Wimpy.Ricky,was the middle child,the handle Droopy was his,and Robbie the eldest boy,  Bubba  or just Bub,              { continued tomorrow folks} sorry I have kiddos here and every time I go to write,something seems to just scream at them as to disrupt my creative process....

        Cont. Chapter 2 "Family"
as we  often called him,whom would  all ways be the first one in,as to get the closest  spot to park next to his dog,and the house trailer\office.Now my Aunt Mary,and her husband Jr,had married  young,and had aquired  a couple of Mack  dump trucks,all in perfect running order,and was all ways turning wrenches on something,most of the time for Mr.C,with the help of Wimpy&Droopy right at his side,and of course Bub,as support,or to agitate I can never decide witch.My Dad, was most regularly last,as he would strive to be the best at  this world of dirt work,in every aspect of the  business of Mack Fanatic Family we have through Mr.C we have become accustomed to,or accessory  as you will learn,  dear and avid reader,all in due time.
This was how my Friday's were spent,as best as I can account,my routine,my imaginative childhood .
On my Mom's side of the chromosome pool,was my Grand-Pa Glenn Conner,he was the youngest of six was born in South Eastern Arkansas,a farmer's life,the way he was raised,farmer bred,a life you can hang your hat on,through and through.He and Granny Shirley {who was born on Black Friday,Im' told} married,and had four children.First in line was Jerry,He to my recollection was a Army Vet,cool calm laid back,all ways seemed to be lost in translation about something of importance most with a certain left handed cigarette in tow.He was a  regular comedian after a couple of those,and  a  twelve-pack or two
   Continued   in a while..

     "Family"
in him.Next came my mom,Jackie. Mom had all-ways been a sickly child,as far as she can recall as breathing oxygen is relatively easy ,and normal for us,was a major chore for her.Arkansas is no place to be back then, where time still seems to forget the small farming communities,not like the "Big Cities that litter our country  in much of the U.S. to this day, most of those small  towns get by seemingly unscathed  as the decades roll on,especially  in the spring,and harvest time,as the crops are murdered,thus sending their own brand of mutiny into the air,causing all with allergies and asthma to live a very infectious life.That child-hood had to be just horrible for her,as all thought she was just "faking it" to get out of work in the fields,as many of the child-labor driver's {parents} are expectant of their off-spring,thus Mom was treated like a snake in a Sunday school.Then comes Sandy,all ways in the "know" as she  pretty much keeps tabs on the whole family,and not just the one's mentioned.Sandy is the first in line if any one needs something,she's the  binding glue that keep's all of us "Books"  together.Weather it's a time of need, or just a hug, or a hot meal,she does this with out thought of self,a trait most uncommon in these times. Last and not least there's Dee.Now mentioning him, there is only one story I've got of him that just jumps off the pages of my mind,and  demands that I tell it, so one fate full evening, while pulling over time on a whisky binge { HELLO Charlie Sheen} decided  to hold a destruction derby, where  the only contestants  were him & his car, and  a Dairy Queen's front entrance.His girl had locked him out,and Dee wanting to make up with Sharron, decided to make his own drive thru,Making it "nearly" impossible to forgive him,YES Sharron did,she took him back, cause nothing say's I Love You like totaling your car into a girl's place of  employment. Now  this is about to get Very interesting  dear and avid reader's.Chester and J, and their  four children had moved to Dallas, right off Silver Brook rd.down the street a few blocks from Granny Shirley,and Pa Pa Glenn's family of four.Back then, in the Late sixties both families knew of each other's  live's  not like the "now" times,where you dont even know your  cookie-cutter dweller's two cheaply "custom" built thrown together ready made  homes over.Looking into the future here, I begin to wonder just how long these "homes"  are going to last , to the true test of time,most homes worth having were built back when  people actually take pride in their craft,those homes are still standing..Back to the story now,they all knew each other went to school, attended  the usual parties etc.