Skip to main content

A few Chicklets for your thoughts...



Chicklets

Many, many years ago, my Mom would let us buy some candy here and there. But when we only had a nickel my Mom would suggest either that rolled up red licorice by Broadway or Chiclets. You know the little square gum pieces? It was so, my brother and I could share the candy. Those were the days when my Mom was fortunate enough to have a used car for a month or so, and she’d pull up to the gas pump and hold out a dollar or two fifty cent pieces and say to the attendant, “I’d like a dollar’s worth of gas, please.

These flashes of my childhood came to me as I ran today in the early afternoon I wondered which direction to run. I wondered how much energy I had. I couldn’t gage it. I hadn’t able to gage my energy now for about the past few years. Pure exhaustion and pushing through it for the better part of over twenty-eight years has taken its toll.  As I’ve done everything I could to beat a syndrome I’d been diagnosed with twenty-six years ago. For the first four plus years I struggled every day of my life.  And I can say, I really don’t know how I built a successful business being so ill in the mid to late 1990’s.  But like I said to a former fight coach of mine, “God built me good. Can’t complain.”

So, today as I did my first ‘round the block one mile loop to see what direction I’d go in. Or if I should push it, I saw a neighbor I’d never met.  An older gentleman in his seventies. What had just went, through my mind were Chiclets… Well, and toilet paper. I’ll explain. At about a quarter mile just before this. I realized in the early 1980’s when I was in the Marines, how easy it was to bribe for extra toilet paper. At the time I was one in about 5,000 women in the Marines that were driving trucks and tractor trailers being a female Marine. Yeah, that was about the ratio.  The benefit? The benefit was, since rarely if ever there was another woman around, especially when we did convoys and desert maneuvers … well the way I got extra toilet paper was Chiclets. Yes, Chiclets. And the fact that the men didn’t need toilet paper as much as I did. I’ll let you, my audience figure that one out.

Just as I was coming by this man, I thought he’d enjoy this tidbit story. He did, and then he said, “My mechanic offered anyone coming in for service, such oil change and the like. That he’d give them a free roll of toilet paper. Good business, I’d say.” He smiled. I nodded in agreement. And yes, I stood approximately twelve feet and two point four inches in distance away from him, just in case either one of us snorted and laughed. A few Chiclets for thoughts.---Jody-Lynn Reicher


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

2023 Holiday Letter from the Reicher's

Well, I didn't think I'd be doing a Holiday Letter this year, but here goes... The Spirit of Norm is in the air. As the wind whips with minus a true snowstorm.  In hopes the Farmers Almanac was correct, I pray to the snow gods. Rain ensued the month of December thus far. We have nearly tripled the amount of rainfall usual for December in New Jersey. And I've witnessed its treachery. Storms such as these hit us hardest in July. Then remained fairly intense through til about early October.  Our daughters are doing well, Thank God.  Their Dad would be proud of them. Our oldest Sarah, now a Junior at UCLA pursuing her degree in Chemical Engineering. She's digging the whole California scene. Which I thought it was for her. She's had some good traveling on her off times from school. For her March 2023 week off, she drove her and a few friends out to Lake Tahoe and went downhill skiing for a first in nearly 5 years. She had to rent the ski equipment.  Funny enough when

It Follows Me...

One may wonder what would inspire someone to work hard labor voluntarily. For me it’s the love of many things. It’s the passion that won’t be broken. Because there are so many aspects to such service for me, that it may seem beyond comprehension. I’d compare it to my youthful desire to enter the military as a young child. Then for a multitude of reasons only to follow through thirteen years later at age eighteen entering the Marines. There were things that followed me throughout my life. Sometimes they were questions of how I ever gave up my over decade’s life dream to become a New Jersey State Trooper. My childhood desire to never wed—to never have any serious relationships with another human being. I desired only service in military and law enforcement nearly my whole childhood. Too the extent that even one of my Marine Corps superiors expressed to me last July, “I never thought you’d ever get married. It just wasn’t who you were. You were always a loner.” I replied, “Yeah. I know.

Sledging the Hammer

  "You could have a steam trainIf you'd just lay down your tracks..."---Peter Gabriel's 'Sledgehammer' lyrics. This is not the tune that lay in my mind this morning as I reminisced about yesterday's volunteers to help on trail crew.    However, as I looked up the proper definition of sledging that song popped up. I say sledging, which is my own take on swinging a hammer that we call a "Double Jack". The Single Jack is six pounds. I know that because our regular crew of five including me and one staff supervisor are handling Harriman State Park Trails, and have to carry about four of those, two shaping hammers, along with a hoist, belay bag with heavy equipment, first aid kit, double Jack, three 18lb rock bars, a lopper, three buckets, three eye to eyes, two burlap straps, two green wrapping straps, two pick Mattox, a roe hoe or two, a bar for either the two ton or one ton hoist, the feathers with pegs for splitting rocks that we drill... s