— Photo from R. Douglas Marshall
This is the 1925 Model T Ford Roadster that an OF used to take his Valentine for a ride on Feb. 14.
DELANSON — The OMOTM arrived on time at Gibby’s Diner ready for some hot coffee and a hot breakfast on this chilly, 8-degree, Tuesday morning. This group of OMOTM are always ready for some hot coffee and a good hot breakfast on any chilly morning.
Last week, on Wednesday, on Feb. 14, the OMOTM, like everyone, celebrated Valentine’s Day with some OFs giving red roses, other OFs giving some chocolates in a red heart-shaped box; certainly Valentine’s Day cards were given and received all prior to sitting down to a special dinner (or feast in the old days).
There are many, many different paths as to the origins of Valentine’s Day going far back in time — as long ago as the year 269, when a Catholic priest, whose name was Valentine, was put to death for religious reasons.
He is given credit for performing a miracle of giving sight to a blind girl. Before his untimely demise, he sent the little girl a note, which he signed “Your Valentine.”
A couple of themes are fairly common throughout the different origin paths of today’s Valentine’s Day observance. It has always been observed on Feb. 14. It usually has a feast or special meal connected to it.
It also has a strong religious background. The priest, Valentine, is now a saint. The idea of love and romance quickly and universally became central to the day.
Many Valentine’s Day poems that have been written, some as early as Edmund Spenser’s “The Faerie Queene” written in 1590, have lines that sound familiar to us.
She bath’d with roses red, and violets blew
and all the sweetest flowers that in the forest grew ….
Shakespeare gets into the act in the year 1600 with his play, “Hamlet” in which he has Ophelia mentioning Valentine’s Day, and possibly the genesis of today’s modern poem may be found in a collection of English nursery rhymes from 1784.
The rose is red, the violet’s blue,
The honey’s sweet, and so are you.
Thou art my love and I am thine;
I drew thee to my Valentine.
The lot was cast and then I drew,
A fortune said it shou’d be you.
The OMOTM may not be Spenser or Shakespeare, but how could a fair maiden resist when asked to be an OF’s Valentine and go for a ride in a 1925 Model T Ford Roadster built for two?
It didn’t matter that they had been married since that car’s factory warranty was still in place (just kidding). Of course, she accepted. It also helps that they were in Florida on Feb. 14, 2024.
Up here in the Hilltowns, there are many examples of the spirit of Saint Valentine that are front and center every day of the year. One of these places is the Rock Road Chapel, the pastor of which is a member of the OMOTM.
If you happen to be in his neighborhood on a Wednesday morning, stop by for breakfast. One year when Valentine’s Day fell on Wednesday, a person who had breakfast at the Rock Road Chapel was moved to write a little poem of heartfelt appreciation, which now occupies a special spot on the wall in the kitchen.
It is out of view of everybody except for those working to prepare the food for the folks who may stop by for breakfast. Again, this was not written by a world famous poet; it was written in appreciation and with a little love thrown in, to the ladies working out of sight, behind the scenes, in the kitchen of the Rock Road Chapel. It reads like this:
To the Sisters of the Spatula
The Lord looks down from up above
Upon this food prepared with love
For the hungry folks who are just itchin’
For the savory delights from the Rock Road kitchen.
From succulent sausage to perfect pancakes
The girls in the kitchen have got what it takes
And there’s perfect cooked eggs, real syrup, and butter
That kind of good food gets our taste buds aflutter.
So this Valentine’s Day, to show that we care
We offer this poem, at which you can stare
As we fervently hope you’ll consider it handy
As a good substitute for flowers and candy.
So, from the Old Men of the Mountain, we extend our very best wishes to all the young lovers out there, and especially the old lovers up here in the mountains — do yourself, and all of us, a favor and hug someone today.
Next week, the OMOTM shall meet at the Chuck Wagon Diner in Duanesburg. This week, the following met at Gibby’s Diner for good food and fellowship: Harold Guest, Wally Guest, Ted Feurer, Wayne Gaul, Russ Pokorny, Warren Willsey, Joe Rack, Mark Traver, Glenn Patterson, Roger Shafer, George Washburn, Jake Herzog, William Lichliter, Marty Herzog, Ed Goff, Frank Fuss, Miner Stevens, Paul Guiton, John Dab, Lou Schenck, Jack Norray, Gerry Cross, Herb Bahrmann, Bob Donnelly, Elwood Vanderbilt, Michael Kruzinsk, Rev Jay Francis and me.
SCHOHARIE — The snow storm that wasn’t. There are times when the OMOTM are really glad that they are who they are and not those trying to predict what track Mother Nature will take with a particular snow storm.
We expect these meteorologists to tell us how many inches of snow we will get down in the valley, compared to up here in the mountains and Hilltowns. We expect them to tell us when the storm will start and when it will end, and to do all of this days in advance and to do it with 100-percent accuracy. No mistakes, no changing the forecast. Good luck with that.
Then we get this system. From the get-go, this was a problem. Will the storm track take the storm far enough south of us with the result being little or no snow? Will it track a little farther north resulting in a few inches of snow, to as much as a foot or more?
Every day, it seemed like the track would move north, then move back south. Add to all this, there are several different weather-expert agencies from all over the place each predicting their own version of what is going to happen when.
The OMOTM don’t have to try to predict the weather; we just have to remember where to show up for breakfast on Tuesdays. This Tuesday it was the Your Way Café in Schoharie. Next week, it will be Gibby’s.
A nice group of us traveled to breakfast over clear and dry roads with smiles on our faces and more than a little amount of relief that there was not a flake of snow to be found anywhere!
The lack of snow and cold this winter did initiate a discussion of how seasonal businesses cope with this season’s unusual weather. If the weather is too warm, there is no ice on the lakes, no snow on the mountain, so those folks who bought a new plow for their pickup truck so they can plow driveways and parking lots are just sitting idle. But they still have to pay the bill for the plow.
Then there are all the companies who stocked up on their winter inventories of products for work or play. Products ranging from a simple snow shovel or ice skates, to snowshoes and skis all the way to big-ticket items like snow blowers and snowmobiles.
All of this is not limited to wintertime. How about the farmers? A great many OMOTM are more than a little knowledgeable about this topic.
We talked about the service industry, those who earn a living fixing stuff like boat engines or lawn mowers or air-conditioners. We even mentioned all the seasonal workers such as the resort personnel who work at the ski resort restaurants and on and on.
Old cats
Such serious talk was thankfully replaced by much more interesting and light-hearted topics such as the advanced age some cats reach. Stories of cats who “adopted” a particular garage but you couldn't get near them, feral cats, I believe.
They would leave food for them, which they ate, but they could never get them to come inside their house. In fact, they really rarely ever saw them.
A couple of OFs told of their cats reaching well into their 20s. Those were the domestic cats, not the feral cats. Feral cats don’t live very long.
A tale of two mailboxes
One OF related the saga of his driveway(s) and mailboxes. Seems this OF has a large lot with several hundred feet of frontage.
At one end of the lot he has a small shop building and at the other end of the property, he built his house. He has a long driveway to his house at one end of his lot, as it is set back from the road quite a ways, and a short driveway ( two or three car lengths) to the shop building, which is located close to the road at the other end.
He was informed in short order that there can only be one driveway per lot. But he needed both.
So as the driveway issues were being worked out, the post office decided that the one mailbox, which was in place for a decade or so, was in a dangerous location for the postal-delivery person and would have to be moved to a safer location.
So the OF moved the mailbox and all was well for another decade.
Then the post office said that the house was one address and the shop was a different address and mail for one address could not be put into a mailbox of another address. OK, so the OF put up another mailbox — and the story of great postal service and a happy OF postal customer has continued unchecked for another decade.
All is well for the moment; just don’t breathe.
Have I mentioned that there was another learning curve of information regarding culverts and driveways? No? Another story for another time in the life and times of the OMOTM.
Those OMOTM who gathered at the Your Way Café without a snowflake in sight were: Harold Guest, Wally Quest, Roger Shafer, Joe Rack, MarkTraver, Glenn Ptterson, Warren Willsey, Russ Pokorny, Elwood Vanderbilt, Bob Donnely, Miner Stevens, Bill Lichliter, Frank Fuss, Marty Herzog, Ed Goff, Rick LaGrange, Jake Herzog, Lou Schenck, Jack Norray, Gerry Cross, John Dabs, Paul Guiton, and me.
MIDDLEBURGH — Sunshine! Finally, we see the sun and blue skies but we felt the February chill of winter as the OMOTM woke up to temperatures in the mid-teens. Besides that, it is still dark at 5:30 a.m. and there is still plenty of white stuff around with more to surely arrive before winter releases us from its grip as this is only the beginning of February.
We journeyed to Mrs K’s Kitchen this week. Next week, we will meet at the Your Way Café in Schoharie followed by Gibby’s Diner before finishing up our northerly trek at the Chuck Wagon.
During last week’s breakfast there was a comment, or maybe two, that the size of the print in the email that was sent to all of the OFs was kind of small and maybe it should be a little larger which would make it easier to read. So this week, the email font size was increased — substantially.
Now the comments were not about the size of the words, but rather the amount of paper it took to print out a copy of the column so they could save it and add it to the ever-growing pile of saved OMOTM columns.
This led to a general discussion of saving stuff like this column, and the National Geographic magazine or Playboy (for the articles) for years.
Other OFs agreed with stories of family reunions, and saving the lists of relatives and getting copies of photographs of the current and past relatives that usually wind up in a drawer at best, or a box at worst, to be brought out when next we meet.
That led to the popular topic of researching our own ancestry, using one of several methods currently available on the web, like Ancestry.com that some of the OMOTM are using.
Competitive
bird-watching
Many of the OFs have bird feeders in the winter, which give us enjoyment as we watch all the different species of birds. Several OFs would write down the different kinds of birds that we could identify.
It is a substantial list by the end of winter and spring arrives. Because some OMOTM are somewhat competitive, they would notice that their friends and neighbors might have more birds at their feeders than they had, which would prompt another trip to the local feed store to buy the latest and greatest in seeds and feeders.
One thing that one OF enjoyed doing was to put their Christmas tree out on the deck after the holidays, and throw a bunch of different kinds of seed in it. The birds loved it.
His back deck was up one story because he had a walk-out basement, which he thought attracted more birds. When a hawk or other predator bird was in the area, he always knew it because all the little birds would suddenly disappear into the Christmas tree and be very still until the danger had passed.
He also put out water in a heated tray, which might have attracted more birds than the food. It certainly attracted the squirrels.
One year, he had a wild female turkey fly in to eat and drink, then she would glide down to the ground to eat the seeds that fell from the feeders. She hung around for a couple of weeks.
There were some large shrubs and pine trees in his yard that the birds would stay in at night and when the predators were around. His family called those bushes “the Dormitories.”
There would be dozens of birds of many species in those co-ed dorms at any given time, especially after a snow storm when there would be only two or three entrances. He said it was fun watching the constant comings and goings of the different birds from those limited number of openings. It was a safe haven for them, and they sure knew it.
Sometimes there is competition for the bird food, such as squirrels, raccoons, big birds versus little birds — and just before, and right after, hibernation, the occasional bear. How to deal with those issues is a story left for a future column.
Staying strong
Exercise was a topic at the table. These OMOTM were not particularly concerned with losing weight, but more along the lines of losing our balance.
The OFs really don’t like falling down. It can hurt, and it is embarrassing.
It has been pretty well established that the proper exercise can help this situation a lot. And guess what, there is a whole industry devoted to helping us accomplish becoming much less susceptible to falling due to lack of balance.
It’s OK to slip on a banana peel; just don't fall because we lose our balance for the hell of it.
From long ago, do you remember the little tests the “Officer” might ask us to perform, like balancing on one foot, or walking in a straight line? Some of us had trouble with that when we were young and stone-cold sober, and now that we are “senior citizens” — anyway, exercise just may be a really good thing.
The clumsy, unbalanced OMOTM who enjoyed good conversation and great food on Tuesday morning were: Wally Guest, Harold Guest, Ed Goff, Rick LaGrange, Mark Traver, Glen Patterson, Joe Rack, Wayne Gaul, Jake Lederman, Ted Feurer, Warren Willsey, Russ Pokorny, Roland Tozer, George Washburn, Michael Kruzinski, Bill Lichliter, Jake Herzog, Marty Herzog, Herb Bahrmann, Lou Schenck, Dick Dexter, Jack Norray, Gerry Cross, Bob Donnelly, Dave Hodgetts, Elwood Vanderbilt, Paul Guiton, John Dab, and me.
Snow storm. While not a full-blown Nor’easter, it was big enough to test the winter driving skills of any of the OFs if they happened to be out between football games on Sunday. But when you want some pizza, you want some pizza!
Sunday’s snow made Monday the Let’s See If the Snowblower Still Works Day. Sometimes I feel as if it is a race to see which of us will run out of gas sooner, me or the snowblower, as we are both about the same age!
I suspect that more than one OF, after finishing his own personal snow-removal duties, looked around and promptly helped his neighbor. Just like what was said last week, “It’s what we do. It’s who we are.”
After all that exercise, the OFs staggered slowly back to their homes, built a fire in the fireplace, and then promptly fell asleep for a little winter’s nap.
Sure enough, a discussion of naps was overheard at the table with comments and questions regarding favorite chairs that seem to automatically recline to an almost horizontal position with absolutely no help from the OF sitting in them.
Of course there was no help from an already napping OF. Someone wanted to know if the chairs were heated.
That question was answered with a “yes,” which prompted a story about an OF and his wife having a pair of heated recliner chairs they used while on vacation at their campsite. Some people just naturally do it right.
Snowy ride, hearty breakfast
On to the business at hand. This past Tuesday morning found us gathering at the Middleburgh Diner for a hearty breakfast. Next week we will descend upon Mrs. K’s Kitchen.
One OF, who usually travels over Cotton Hill Road to get to the Middleburgh Diner, decided not to tempt Fate and instead took the longer way through Schoharie using the straighter big roads that have guardrails and everything.
The drive was still pretty spectacular, with the new snow all around. Another OF did travel the Cotton Hill Road and said it was perfect.
However, he is a man of the cloth and so may have had an advantage over the rest of us.
The somewhat numerically smaller group of OFs, caused not only by the new snow, but also by the siren song of sunshine, warm temperatures, swimming pools, of warm water, and maybe even a golf course or two just might have accounted for the absence of some of the rest of us.
On the lighter side
The weather was discussed with someone wondering if it was possible to have a January thaw if there has not been a January freeze to speak of. This brought forth memories of winters gone by when the temperature never got above zero for an entire week.
One OF recalled the early days of some towns putting sand on the roads during and after a snow storm by hand! There would be a couple of men with shovels, standing in the back of a truck full of sand, tossing shovelfuls of sand on the road as the truck drove slowly along.
This prompted another comment of: “Can you imagine what today’s OSHA would say about that?”
The story ended with the truck, having reached the end of the street, backing up to turn around when the one side of the truck sort of went into a ditch, causing the truck to tip over, sending the men, shovels, and sand in all directions! Maybe this is why there is an OSHA today.
On the serious side
Also overheard around the table was a discussion regarding an OF’s successful efforts to reduce his carbon footprint to virtually nothing. He has a windmill. Not a great big one, a small one that is designed for a single home.
It has a 100-foot-tall pole (a typical power pole is around 60 feet tall) with the blades only five feet or so in length. The question was asked if there was a “governor” on it to prevent damage from high winds? Yes and no. Not a “governor” per se, but a system that turns the blades away from the very high winds and therefore slows them down. Sort of like a weather vane.
This is not the only thing that this OF has working for him; he has photoelectric solar panels as well. Again, not great big ones, and not acres of them; he is just trying to reduce his carbon footprint.
The end result of his efforts? He does not have to purchase any electricity from the utilities at all.
Good for him, between the combined capacities of the windmill and the solar panels, both of which use only renewable resources, he has reduced his carbon footprint to zero.
By the way, he does not “sell” any leftover electricity back to the power company. With a final tongue-in-cheek comment, he said, if he had any excess electricity, he would probably go out and buy something that uses electricity and run it!
Those OMOTM who enjoyed the snowy scenery and were not worried about getting sunburned were: Harold Guest, Wally Guest, Ed Goff, Russ Pokorny, Warren Willsey, Ted Feurer, Jake Lederman, Pastor Jay Francis, George Washburn, Bill Lichliter, Roland Tozer, Herb Bahrmann, Jack Norray, Dick Dexter, Lou Schenck, and me.
Think of me as a pinch hitter, or designated interim column writer while our first-string scribe, John R. Williams, is sidelined briefly.
As happens so often, as many of you know from your own experience, if you go too often to a meeting or function, of any sort, at some point someone is going to say something like, “I nominate him or her to do that.”
Well, here I am, the “Him,” because there is no “Her” in the OMOTM ranks. Do you have any idea what it feels like to be an 81-year-old rookie? I really thought I left this kind of stress behind me when I retired.
This Tuesday morning, Jan. 23, found the OMOTM gathering at the Chuck Wagon Diner in Duanesburg and talking about the early origins of the OMOTM, which was started by three men in the kitchen of a home of an OF.
I am sure the Scribe can fill in all the gaps in my knowledge of the subject.
I do remember reading in an early column, written by the Scribe, about the OMOTM in The Altamont Enterprise, that the wife of the OF whose house the first few breakfasts took place in soon tired of this arrangement, doing all the cooking, preparing, cleaning up, etc., with the predictable result of the OFs soon adjourning to a nearby diner to enjoy their breakfast.
Thus, a tradition was born and a marriage was saved, to go on and last for many more years. Maybe this is why the OMOTM travel to a different eating establishment each week so as not to wear out our welcome at any one of them too quickly.
Snow job
Recent discussions touched on the services we all sometimes take for granted. Such as snow removal.
Whether it is our own driveways with our own snow blowers, or the streets and roads in front of our homes and neighborhoods sometimes being cleared before we are even enjoying our first cup of coffee, or an entire football stadium and parking lots being cleared of over three feet of snow in less than 24 hours. All this so we can watch the football game in person or just on TV.
This was an amazing accomplishment that was done two weeks in a row! We take that as normal, if you live in Buffalo.
Sometimes, however, our equipment breaks down and we need special parts to repair it, which led to a discussion of where to buy the parts and why we do business with particular businesses.
One OF told the story of the fine service he received from an auto-supply company in England. He was able to call the company (an 800 number, so no charge), they had the parts, and he received his order in one business day. Granted, there was a weekend involved. Just a company doing business the right way.
That led to other stories of local companies doing business the old-fashioned right way. Often a handshake will do, if that. Just doing business, not trying to retire on each job. From repairing a snowblower to getting parts for a car to a pump for a well that is 300 feet down.
That part of the discussion led to “douser” stories, at which point someone cautioned us to be “careful about believing all that we might hear at an OMOTM breakfast.”
Constructive worry
All talk was not about such serious topics however. At one table, a discussion ensued concerning an OF who had recently taken a high paying job ($250,000) with a large corporation as a vice president in charge of being a Creative and Constructive Worrier. This is a very important and prestigious position in this corporation, as is evidenced by the substantial salary.
Someone at the table asked the lucky new V.P. how he was going to be paid all this money, and he replied that he didn’t know and that he was “very worried about that.” Obviously, he is already on the job, and doing great at it. He is a natural.
Best DMV
About that time, as the breakfast was winding down, an OF said he had to get going as he wanted to get to the local Department of Motor Vehicles office right as it opened, which promptly started a discussion as to the relative merits of the various DMV offices around the area.
The local DMV office in Schoharie was acknowledged as being at the top of that list. The same long-standing values of doing business was applied to those businesses that provide their service with good, friendly, knowledgeable people who just do their job the old-fashioned way with no hassles.
It is not at all surprising that the OFs feel this way about where, and why, they do their business. This applies to where we gather to have our weekly breakfast, as well. It ain't easy to satisfy 20 to 30 grumpy OMOTM who want their coffee now and their breakfast food cooked just a certain way. It is who we are, always has been.
The OFs, serious or not-so-serious, who were present this morning included: Bill Lichliter, George Washburn, Glen Patterson, Mark Traver, Joe Rack, Jake Herzog, Roger Schafer, Harold Guest, Wally Guest, Jack Norray, Lou Schenck, Dick Dexter, Herb Bahrman, Gerry Cross, Paul Bahrman, Ted Ferurer, Jake Lederman, Rev. Jay Francis, Warren Willsey, Russ Pokorny, John Dabb, Paul Guiton, Doug Marshall, Frank Fuss, Michael Kruzinski, and me.
— Photo from John R. Williams
John R. Williams was commissioned to paint the Erie Canal as it looked in the 19th Century, running between the south cliff, known as Little Nose, and the north, known as Big Nose.
Yeah! The Old Men of the Mountain still gather at the appointed restaurants; however, right now this scribe is unable to attend as he is attached to an oxygen hose.
The scribe does have a portable unit and, once he is cleared to go using that, the scribe will be there. Last week there was still, they think, traces of pneumonia rattling around in there.
He will be tethered to an oxygen hose until he can get his percentage to hold, at (this is what the scribe thinks) 94 percent. This may or may not be right; right now it is holding at 91 percent.
Now to business at hand with notes from a couple of OMOTM.
On the second day of the New Year, the Old Men of the Mountain met at the Middleburgh Diner in Middleburgh.
The OMOTM, because they are mostly old, generally do not partake of all the New Year festivities, not that the mind doesn’t say “Hey let’s go” but the body says sleep comes first and most are sawing lumber by nine.
However, some must have done something because the crowd was on the slight side at breakfast Tuesday morning. As one OF suggested, “Maybe many are traveling and are not around.”
One OF with an older-young body to go with the mind that says he celebrates the New Year by going for a ride on his motorcycle. This year though the OF reported that, by the time he did all the preparation work on the bike to get ready, it was getting late in the day so the OF said he would do it on Tuesday instead.
This prompted another OF to comment that he would start a tradition of his own. The OF said, with all the warm weather and the lack of ice on the lakes and rivers, that he would take his boat out on New Year’s Day.
On New Year’s Days when it is not like this, the OF could rig a sail on the boat and accomplish the same thing by skidding over the ice of the lake.
Erie Canal
An unusual discussion at the table of OFs was the Erie Canal, and for some of the OFs this was a firsthand discussion. Those who worked on the project said it was so ad-hoc that they had to invent tools to do some of the work, and a lot of the ditch was dug by hand.
Not only that but even the surveying tools used, and plotting the direction of the canal were done by rule of thumb. It was brought up that many other canals were being dug about this time but the Erie was the only canal that paid for itself.
One OF’s home was built from stone that was rejected for use on the canal, as was the Onesquethaw Reformed Church, where the OF and his family attended, all built from rejected stone.
It was not mentioned in the note how the stone got all the way to Onesquethaw, which is just a tad west of Clarksville from where the canal was being built. That is a hike and uphill at that.
It is cool that the OFs discussed the Erie Canal. Quite a while back, this scribe was commissioned to do a painting of the Erie Canal.
The person that wanted the painting was an expert on the canal and very specific on how she wanted the painting, the period, the locale, the time of year, and very colorful. The painting was to be done as the canal went through Big Nose-Little Nose.
In the scribe’s research, he found that it was this gap in the Appalachian Mountains that made the engineer know the canal could be done.
It was reported by the family to this scribe that the woman who commissioned the painting had it placed over the fireplace of their home and would have her morning coffee and sit and look at the painting for an hour or so before she started her day.
The scribe just thought he would add that. The scribe must also give thanks to Doug Marshall for the notes, and Lou Schenck for those who made it and they were: Bill Lichliter, George Washburn, Jake Herzog, Harold Guest, Wally Guest, Jack Norray, Lou Schenck, Dick Dexter, Herb Bahrmann, Gerry Cross, Elwood Vanderbilt, Bob Donnelly, Dave Hodgetts, Doug Marshall, but not me.
Tuesdays seem to come so quickly, while some days seem to take forever to get here. Tuesday, Nov. 28, the Old Men of the Mountain met at the Middleburgh Diner.
To get to the Middleburgh Diner for many of the OMOTM, it is necessary to go up, then down, even when the OF lives on the mountain. This past Tuesday, there was about two to four inches of snow at the top going over what is known as Cotton Hill.
This country road is popular with many of the OFs going to Middleburgh, but on Tuesday morning it was a bad decision, and as one OF put it, the road “was unsafe at any speed.” This prompted most to return home via the “flats” where the road conditions were much better.
We have a couple OFs who, when the weather becomes a little nippy, wear their coonskin hats to the breakfast. The hats must be faux fur because the OFs do not think raccoons are that large.
These hats must have come with paddles because when turned upside down the OF could get in the hat and paddle himself across the pond. Fess Parker these OFs are not, and the hat Parker wore in “Daniel Boone” was much smaller.
One OF told of one summer packing the whole family in the station wagon and spending their whole vacation tracking down Daniel Boone because his son (only about 8 years old) thought he was Daniel Boone. The OF said this was a great vacation and quite an adventure.
Hearing help
Many times, the sense of hearing is covered by the OMOTM, especially how hearing aids seem to be a lot of money for what they provide and how long the aids seem to last. One OF who has trouble hearing and wears his hearing aids showed up Tuesday morning with a new hearing device.
This unit had an external microphone that was worn around the neck and the receiver part was in the ears. One OF said it was akin to something like a Bluetooth arrangement.
The OF let some of the other OFs try the new system out and the other OFs thought it worked great. Is that anything like passing around a new set of false teeth because the OF thought they worked so great?
Glasses maybe, as glasses have been passed back and forth at the breakfast because this or that OF forgot his.
Fading tats
The OFs who were in the military, and that is quite a few, discussed how tattoos were more or less frowned upon when joining. The OFs coupled this with where we are now and where we were then, and decided that the pundits are right.
When the OFs were young, they were part of the Greatest Generation. This did not stop the OFs from not paying too much attention to military regulations and who got tattoos anyway.
They were discharged as a literally colored group with statements like Mom, or the picture of, or at least the number of, their ship permanently inked on their bodies.
Tattoos may be OK (?) when people are young, but as they age things begin to change. First, the red color goes, and then those who have used yellow see it starts to fade and then disappear.
Finally, the tattoo becomes nothing but a black blob when reaching the age of 50 or so, and for the rest of your life the one with the tattoo carries this black blob around with him. Take this from some OFs who support these black blobs and can’t even remember what they are, where they got them, or when.
Sport supports
Hunting and fishing season discussion came up next. There seems to always have been a hunting and fishing season even when the OFs were really young.
On Tuesday morning, the OFs discussed hunting and fishing, their escapades, their success, and their failures.
Just as with any sport, when the OFs are really into it, the sport can be expensive. The guns and ammo., the outfits, all the accessories that go with a particular sport can add up.
Fishing with the poles, waders, the boat, the trailer, and all that gear really can add up. One OF mentioned that sports are so lucrative that there are entire stores catering to only sports.
Yet, as one OF said, it is impossible to beat a good day of fishing. The bumper sticker is right.
Those OMOTM that managed to make it to the Middleburgh Diner in Middleburgh and start the day off as a good day even though the OFs were not fishing, were: Bill Lichliter, Marty Herzog, Harold Guest, Wally Guest, Jack Norray, Lou Schenck, Dick Dexter, Herb Bahrmann, Gerry Cross, Ted Feurer, Jake Lederman, Wayne Gaul, Rev. Jay Francis, Ed Goff, Doug Marshall, Roland Tozer, Warren Willsey, Russ Pokorny, and not me.
Getting to eat the bird on Nov. 21, the Old Men of the Mountain met at the Chuck Wagon Diner in Princetown.
Just as this scribe started to type, a thought raced through his mind. As for many people, these stupid thoughts flash in and out of the mind with no connection to anything, and for no reason.
This one was combining last week’s breakfast with this breakfast at the Chuck Wagon Diner in Princetown. This scribe has many friends from around the country who think New York state is covered with concrete and everyone lives in a high rise.
The restaurant last week was in Quaker Street (blink twice and you have driven through Quaker Street) but if you are in Princetown blink once and that one is in the rear view mirror. My goodness! What a misconception abounds out there on what our state is — how big and wild New York really is.
Now, if it would just do something about the weather and the politics, there would probably not be such an exodus.
Cat tales
In going through the old notes, there is a note where the OFs discussed cats. It is not checked off. This scribe, in using his memory of jumbled facts, thinks this was about barn cats, but the word domestic is part of scribbled note. Cats, barn, dom., pet — that is the whole note.
When the OFs were farming, barn cats were almost necessities to keep the vermin down. These cats were not feral, nor completely tame either. Almost all the OFs who had cats like this had the same stories.
Coming into the stable on a winter morning, sliding back the door, the pleasant aroma of the barn would greet the farmer. Then the rustling of cows in their stanchions as they stirred to get up made the cats jump down from the hip of the cow where they had spent the night in the warmth of the barn. So the day began.
Up against the wall in back of the cows were a few old milk-can lids where the OFs fed these cats milk. Some of the first milk of the day was poured in these lids to keep the cats from bothering the OF while the milking was going on.
This on many farms is all the cats got. This scribe does not remember any OF that bought cat food. The rest of the cat’s sustenance was what they could catch; mice, and the occasional snake or bird was about it.
Most also can’t remember ever having a vet come to check a cat. If the cat had distemper, it went off somewhere and died, or the farmer took care of it himself.
Each cat had its own personality. The OFs had a wonder on this because most could be petted but not fondled; however, a few could be picked up and liked human attention. Some would come and rub against the farmer’s leg and want to be paid attention to also.
The OFs asked: Why do some cats do that, to which one farmer replied that he thought that was true with all animals. Some tolerated humans but others wanted their attention — not only cats, but dogs, horses, cows and this OF said it even transcended to wild animals.
Then he asked the generic question, “Why is that?” All the OF got was blank looks.
The OFs commented they did have house cats and they were not the same as barn cats, and sometimes the house cat was not wanted by the barn cats and fights would ensue.
A good ole-fashioned cat fight in the middle of the night is an eerie sound. The sound of a cat fight would drown out a siren. One OF claimed one of their house cats was so tough looking from catfights, it was like the cat went out at night just looking for them.
That cats have nine lives is substantiated in one story an OF told, but the story is like a horror story and this scribe does not think it is for the paper. However, the ending is bizarre.
After the cat was presumably dead for some time, the same cat showed up in the barn and went directly to the farmhand who was responsible for the cat’s demise, looked at him, and meowed
The farmhand looked down, saw the cat, and screamed; he jumped up, ran out of the barn and never came back. He was gone.
The OF said he was a good worker, when he was sober, but he had a habit of drinking the tapings of the silo without cutting them one bit. The owner of the farm never bothered tracking him down but later on found out that the farmhand had died in a weird farming accident on another farm.
Many of the Old Men of the Mountain now were not farmers and have missed out on all these warm memories; however all these OMOTM, farmer or not, managed to meet at the Chuck Wagon Diner in Princetown and they were: Miner Stevens, Glenn Patterson, Mark Traver, Joe Rack, Marty Herzog, Jake Herzog, Roger Shafer, Harold Guest, Wally Guest, Jack Norray, Lou Schenck, Dick Dexter, Herb Bahrmann, Gerry Cross, Ted Feurer, Jake Lederman, Bob Donnelly, Dave Hodgetts, John Dab, Rick LaGrange, Paul Guiton, Doug Marshall, Warren Willsey, Russ Pokorny, Paul Whitbeck, and not me.
Tuesday is named for the Roman God Tyr, and the rest of the days of the week were named by the Romans after the Sun and Moon. Then came other Roman gods to fill out the remaining five.
Those Romans were responsible for a lot of things that we still use today. Today, when we try to do something with our calendar (like the Romans) we have a tendency to make a mess of it like changing the time back and forth an hour.
The Old Men of the Mountain traveled to Quaker Street on Tuesday, Nov. 14, to have their morning repast at Gibby’s Diner. Gibby’s is tough to miss. Quaker Street has just four public buildings along Route 7: a church, the village store, the fire department, and Gibby’s.
The column has mentioned that many of the OMOTM have had chances to get out and about. Part of the discussion at Gibby’s was how to drive in Europe.
It also should have been brought up how to drive in the U.S. Those who have never driven in Europe think driving there is a little weird and don’t think they could handle it, while those that have had the opportunity say they were able to catch on pretty quickly.
One rule that was mentioned (and exactly where was not brought up) was that trucks are not allowed to run on Sunday. That is OK maybe in countries no larger than many of our states, but it was thought in our country which is about 1,600 miles long and 3,000 miles wide, early morning Monday deliveries would be rather tough to make.
Driving on any day in bad weather with the spray from trucks makes driving very hard, especially at night. One OF thought the spray from any vehicle in bad weather and wet roads is hard.
Duct tape
On TV, there once was a show called “The Red Green Show” and Red Green was a miracle worker with duct tape. Currently there are ads where Phil Swift makes boats out of a duct-tape facsimile; then there is NASCAR that patches whole cars that are traveling 200 miles per hour around the track with duct tape.
We now have one OF who has become a duct-tape aficionado, maybe not to the point of giving lessons yet, but close. It seems this OF was working on a project following the routine and right way, but nothing seemed to be working out and nothing fit or went together.
Finally, after many hours of frustration, the OF said, “Screw it” and proceeded to go the way of the infamous duct-tape repair. Apparently this approach worked very well, and for some reason it usually does.
Those OFs who have gone to the duct-tape saver are so satisfied with the results they never go back and remove the duct tape to do it right.
Memory lane
Now for a trip down memory lane of OFs, which in a way shows nothing has changed. The OFs — back when — had to follow a set of bylaws and a constitution, with a mission purpose. Yeah, right! Those OFs didn’t even know what those words were, but politics and religion were off limits, not completely, but rarely used.
Back then, the OFs had some members who were teachers, and one was a retired principal. Also in this group was a professional OF agitator.
This OF just liked to get people riled up. At one breakfast at the Home Front Café in Altamont, the OF got these educators so perturbed and demonstrative on the school budget and taxes at that time, the principal started shouting and jumped up shaking his fist, while the others were banging the table.
The retired principal became so red in the face while shaking his fist that it was thought it would become necessary to call 9-1-1. This scribe does not remember ever having another OMOTM breakfast like that one.
The OF who started the whole thing could hardly contain himself from laughing out loud; he had to turn his back so it would not excite them more.
This never made the paper; only now that all the participants have passed on there shouldn’t be any problem. Some of the OFs after this outburst thought the ranks of the OMOTM at the next breakfast would be slimmer, but it wasn’t. Everyone involved was there for the next breakfast and many more beyond.
The apparent attendance of the Old Men of the Mountain at Gibby’s the OMOTM found their way and those who were there are: Bill Lichliter, George Washburn, Glenn Patterson, Mark Traver, Joe Rack, Jake Herzog, Roger Shafer, Harold Guest, Wally Guest, Jack Norray, Lou Schenck, Dick Dexter, Herb Bahrmann, Gerry Cross, Ted Feurer, Jake Lederman, Elwood Vanderbilt, Bob Donnelly, Dave Hodgetts, Allen Defazio, John Dab. Rick LaGrange, Paul Guition, Doug Marshall, Warren Willsey, Russ Pokorny, Gerry Chartier, Paul Whitbeck, and not me.
On a balmy Tuesday morning, Nov. 7, the Old Men of the Mountain met at the Your Way Café in Schoharie. The OMOTM meet early for breakfast — early enough so some of the restaurants are just opening and getting started.
It has been mentioned before that sometimes the OMOTM have their warm-up meeting out in the parking lot. Maybe the restaurants could give the keys to a reliable OF and the OMOTM could open the place up and get it ready. Just a thought.
Again, at the Your Way, the waitress brings her kids to the restaurant in the morning and they help setting up the tables. When this is all done, the littler kids retire to a booth in the front and do their screens or homework while the older still helps out, and, when the bus comes, out they go.
Also, as has happened before, the littlest one held the door open for the OFs and greeted the OGs as they entered the restaurant.
This scribe does not know how many OFs are chefs but a discussion was held on apple coring. Some OFs eat the apple core, seeds and all, but not the stem, but this is pumpkin- and apple-pie season, so it is imaginable that this type of discussion would come up especially if an OF is a collector of old apple corers, or those that were combination corers and peelers.
One OF said he had a brother that all he waited for at Thanksgiving were the desserts at the end, especially the pies. This OF’s brother’s favorite did not require a corer; it was mincemeat pie he went after.
Medical chemistry
There are all kinds of advertisements advising everyone, not only the OFs, to get their shots. This can cause discussions in any group, not only the OMOTM. Some are for getting the shots, and some against.
One OF advises in favor. This OF practices what he preaches and had his flu shots, COVID booster, and shingles shot all at the same time, but not in the same arm. His body, trying to sort all this out, must be wondering what the heck is going on with all these chemicals pumped into it.
The body is not supposed to use these shots until it is invaded by some foreign germ, if that germ even bothers to show up at all. Boy, there are a lot of smart people roaming this planet. Thank goodness.
As one OF put it, “There are a lot more important people out there than movie stars and football players.”
This scribe at one time asked a doctor friend of his how does the body know what to do with the medications that are used and how do they go to the right place or do the right thing. The doctor replied: “In essence, chemistry. Just plain ole chemistry.”
Apparently (and this scribe is not an expert on this) if a disease is XYZ, it is up to someone to come up with a group of chemicals that are going to knock out XYZ, and that may be MNOP. And if the doctor guesses wrong and thinks ABC is going to do it, it won’t touch it.
Hmm! Not only are we just one great big battery, but a bunch of OF chemical plants walking around. No wonder we sometimes explode.
This scribe wonders if the head is the plus and the feet are the negative, and if the OFs urinate and defecate just to clean out all those unused chemicals the OFs either ingest, or filter in through our pores — a simple OF just wondering.
Dees’ delight
Around this time last year, one of the OFs decided he would purchase a turkey and have an Old Man of the Mountain raffle, and raffle off the turkey. This year, he did the same thing.
This year, instead of a couple of OFs collecting the names to drop in a hat, the OF enlisted the help of the “littlest and youngest” waitress in the mountains to hand out the slips of paper and gather the names, fold them up and drop them in the hat for the drawing.
Then the youngun took the hat to an OF to draw out a name. The first name drawn unfortunately belonged to an OF who had to leave and was already gone, a re-draw was done, and another OF’s name was drawn and went home with the bird.
The OFs would like to thank Frank Dees for putting all this effort in, especially for supplying the turkey.
Those Old Men of the Mountain who met at the Your Way Café in Schoharie, and had their parking lot meeting, were: Bill Lichliter, George Washburn, Dick Dexter, Herb Bahrmann, Miner Stevens, Glenn Patterson, Mark Traver, Joe Rack, Jake Herzog, Marty Herzog, Roger Shafer, Harold Guest, Wally Guest, Jack Norray, Lou Schenck, Gerry Cross, Rev. Jay Francis, Russ Pokorny, Gerry Chartier, Bob Donnelly, Dave Hodgetts, John Dab, Rick LaGrange, Paul Guiton, Doug Marshall, Frank Dees, Henry Whipple, Frank Fuss, and again not me.