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Where oh where are you tonight?

That’s a line from a comedy skit I heard so many times, I can still sing it by heart from the long-running TV show – “Hee Haw.” “Why did you leave me here all alone? I searched the world over and thought I’d found true love. You met another and th… you were gone.”
February always brings on thoughts of romance. I never realized when I was younger that skit would be a comedic commentary on my own love life or lack thereof.
Sometimes though God gives us ways to find humor in all aspects of what we face.
It is better to be able to laugh at ourselves rather than be settled in a rinse and repeat cycle of frustration, sadness or anger.
Over the years, I tried my best to learn how to be a good potential suitor.
I was taught how to act around females, what to wear depending upon the occasions, how to dance, and how to eat depending on the level of formality. Manners were the key I thought.
Then I realized many of the prettiest girls were drawn to the bad boys who seemed not to have any.
I could never pull that act off. Just wasn’t in my make up.
Although once I studied acting, I could manage a decent stab at it.
Early in my life experience, I tried but found no takers.
Then when I got a little older, I tried but wasn’t much interested in finding any takers that held on.
None really seemed like they wanted to anyway.
Once I did start trying harder, is when I seemed to be into repeating the lines of that song again and again.
I got so tired of the experience; it eventually became a comedy of errors that seems endless.
But despite my losses, I was comforted in knowing that marriage is an institution and I never want to be institutionalized anyway.
I know that love exists, otherwise folks wouldn’t spend all that money on those greetings’ cards with hearts and all those heart shaped boxes of candy, and dozens of red roses. Those must be the cement upon which hearts with initials are drawn upon.
“She took my heart out and stomped that sucker flat,” Lewis Grizzard joked.
I can say for sure that experience is not exclusive to the late columnist. Many of us have found our hearts on the floor.
But no matter how many times it hits the floor, you know, it has the ability to bounce back.
The right smile, the right look, the right words, a perfect song and your heart soars again to new heights.
And within you, you find the hope and the dream that love is possible.
You know, with God all things are possible.

Fishing and the one that got away

Grandma Kitty pulled her shiny case knife from the pocket of her blue apron. She reached down far to the bottom of the cane pole and cut it.
“This will make a good one,” she said, as she handed it to a three-year-old me. Then she cut one for herself.
As we walked to her favorite spot along Frogleg Creek, I could not help but take a peak within the small metal pail she had given me to carry. I knew it would have something good for us to eat, like some chocolate pie or a piece of coconut cake.
I almost fell down when as I looked beneath the lid, only to have my hopes dashed by a bucket of dirt filled with red wigglers.
“Granny, what are we going to have to eat,” I said. “I thought this was our food.”
“It is food, but it is for the fishes,” she said.
“You will have to wait till we find some berries or maybe a plum tree,” she said.
“What are we going to do with these poles?” I said.
“I am going to tie some string on them and you and I are going to spend the morning fishing,” she said.
As we walked along the trail, I noticed a stick lying across the trail. I rushed ahead to pick it up.
“Hold your horses, boy,” she said, as she took her cane pole and popped on the back of what I thought was a stick. The stick slithered away like a bolt of lightening.
“That’s your first rule of being in the mountains, son — be careful where you put your hands,” she said. “We share this space with all kinds of critters. Some don’t care much for sharing.”
As we reached the spot along the banks of the creek, she said. “This is it.”
Conveniently, a huge oak log had fallen there. Upon it we sat.
“All you need to do is put one of the wigglers on the safety pin and drop your line in the water like this,” she said.
She handed me the pole. Then she fixed the other one, carefully attaching the string, safety pin and adding the worm.
As we sat there side by side with our poles in the water, I know I probably asked her a million questions about the leaves, the trees and the little green frog which hopped on my shoe.
She patiently answered every one. We sat there for what seemed like hours enjoying the mountain breeze which flowed over the Gravelly Spur and along the Frogleg Creek.
“Well, we better be getting back,” she said as she pulled her line out of the water.
Just as her pin touched the top of the cold waters, the biggest fish I ever saw jumped by her line.
“Granny, did you see that?” I said. “We can’t leave, we have not got that fish yet.”
“Yes, we did,” she said.
Close your eyes, “Can you see it?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Then you will carry that fish with you everywhere you go,” she said.
“So we did catch a fish,” I said. “Today, we caught the biggest fish of all.”
“We caught something much better,” she said. “We caught each other.”
From Randall Franks’s book “A Mountain  Pearl.”