The old man came knocking
In all these many years, I didn’t expect to miss even one newspaper deadline with my weekly column, but I’ve missed several, and may miss another or two in the future. Hope not.
Well, Dear Readers, I’ve been knocked around, bruised, battered, cut on all over the place, but the last four weeks have been a new experience for me. Never got to practice just being plain out ol’ sick, but it happened. Still got tubes and ports sticking out all over the place, with pain in my butt and other places, but we’re not counted out yet.
I love the country song inspired when Clint Eastwood was asked how he kept young. His reply was, “Don’t let the old man in.” Now, I know that being nearly ‘bout 80 myself is not all that young, but I’ve managed to keep the old man pretty well at bay for all those years, although he came knocking at the door pretty hard recently.
I appreciate The Demopolis Times using reprints of former columns each week, and I expect the new owner of the Democrat Reporter would have done the same if available to him. Anyhow, for at least one more week, here is my column, and it is purely a column of thanks.
I’m thankful that I’ve had the opportunity for around 25 years to get published what are certainly not great writings, but it has been an opportunity to write great things about folks, places and events in one little corner of the world.
I sit here so thankful for the thoughts, prayers, visits, calls and good wishes from so many, many folks. ‘Bout the best kinda medicine there is. I am thankful that my law partners have not given away my parking space at the office, and so very thankful for the patience and good will of my clients, as well, of course, for the loyalty, dedication and professionalism of my legal secretary of over 43 years, Karen Trotman, or better known around the office as Lawyer Trotman.
Thanks to my close family members, who have ministered to me, but none more than my dedicated wife, Alice, who has not left my side, and who is probably in the next room right now wondering why I am in here so quiet. She’ll sneak a peak around the door in a few minutes. My dog and I took a little walk yesterday, and as we came back toward the house, here came my truck with MawMaw at the wheel. She had a stern look on her face. She pulled up, rolled down the window, and had me to understand that I was not supposed to walk that far. I disarmed her a little bit, when I laughed and explained that I really didn’t walk that far. Just took me a while to get there and back.
Hey, Dear Readers, no matter what, don’t lose your sense of humor, and don’t tire of listening to your friends telling you to have patience. These things take time. They do, and now with this shorter than usual writing, I have to punctuate the final and most important thanks to my Lord and Savior, who watches over the sparrow, and who will, in His time, heal this sick and weakened body. God bless each of you out there, just as He has in Days Gone Bye.
— Tom Boggs is a columnist for the Demopolis Times and a native of Marengo County. His column,“Days Gone Bye,” appears weekly.
(This column originally appeared in the Wednesday, October 16 issue of the Demopolis Times.)