Watching butterflies from the back porch

Charlie Walker
Published: October 8, 2008

The voice that haunted more radios than Black River has curves is only a whisper. I carry on a conversation with a pen and legal pad. My groceries come out of a can. Among the delicacies I miss is the flavor of crunchy fingernails.

My fingernails may not contain 11 herbs and spices, they may not have the flavor of orange-pineapple ice cream, but they were always there. Peggy says I put my foot in my mouth so many times my toes wear lifejackets.

Now Ole Scrap Iron cuts my finger- and toenails, cuts my hair and rubs my back and takes care of other necessities that are not as necessary as they use to be.

D.J. Lynch in Lake City used to cut my hair. We would talk about old-time country music. Peggy’s knowledge of pickin’ and singing is the same as my tomcat has of the Book of Revelations. Peggy believes Ernest Tubb is a bathtub named Ernest.

I used to turn my nose up at those television ads for Red Lobster, IHOP, Olive Garden and McDonald’s and now I feel like I could eat my weight in groceries. When Peggy opens that can, my appetite evaporates like smoke up a chimney.

I still have most of my teeth, like some of the other parts of my body, they are only decorations. If my teeth could talk, what would they say? “From fatback to rib-eyes, barbecue, red velvet cake — no matter what the request, we give it our best.”

My teeth have gnawed and chewed the worst and the best. Now if I didn’t brush them, they would get no exercise at all.

For 20 years I walked two miles a day. Now I walk around the yard twice a day. What I miss most is something to eat and something to do. That’s why the column for the Kingstree paper and the Morning Blues are so important to me.

Back when I was the Energizer Bunny that kept going and going, these columns were just part of my busy schedule.

Blessed is the man who has something to do. If I sound like I am on the pity pot, I don’t mean to. I’ve been there and done that.

My only regret is that I can’t do it again. Time was when I chased the almighty dollar. Now I sit on the back porch and watch the butterflies chase each other.

— Charlie Walker is a local newspaper columnist. He can be reached at P.O. Box 441, Kingstree, SC 29556.