Book Signing

Book Signing

Seymour, Texas, June 7^th, 2014. What can one say about Seymour? What comes to mind is the comedian that used to say, “I get no respect.” Remember him? Now I’m not him. I do get respect, just not from Seymour (LOL). Let me tell you about a few of my book signings and see if you don’t agree. Several years ago, during the Fall Festival, I was booked for a signing at the county library; they put my table outside by the north door, on a cold windy day. Can you say, pneumonia? (brrr). Last year, also during the Fall Festival, I had a table, again outside on a cold, cold morning. Remember that pneumonia? See the picture below.

Haskell, Texas, lets me sign inside. See Below.

So does Books A Million & Hastings In Wichita Falls. See Below. Yes, I finally decided to shave off the gray hair, so please no comments (G).

Even The Senior Citizens Let Me Sign Indoors. See Below.

Now June 7^th, the day the Whiteside Museum of Natural History has its Grand Opening, I requested a table to sign books; not just any books, my books about dinosaurs and prehistoric reptiles. After all, I am the Author in residence, and these are subjects that coincide with the Museum of Natural History. Guess where they put me? Yep, you guessed it, outside again. This time I sat at a table in over 100-degree temperature. Now, if I just don’t get heat stroke this time. Anyone want me to come to their town to sign books? I believe I’ll forget about Seymour next time. Ah, maybe I should have been a comedian after all. Enjoy the pictures from the museum.

Thankfully, we were in the shade, and had a nice wind. The heat never became much of a problem, though we did get a little hot. The sudden wind gusts did prove a problem, however, as my books went flying several times. Not a great day, but not a bad one, either. TREASURE OF JUR sold best, as people liked the tiger head on the cover. I didn’t have any new edition copies of PANGAEA: EDEN’S PLANET, but I did have the poster on hand.

Ginger went through the new museum first, while I sat with the table, and she took the pictures. I went after she returned, but my blood sugar took a sudden dive while inside, and I had to get out to my jellybeans before someone called an ambulance. I barely made it back to the table before collapsing.

Radio Days - The Theater of The Mind

Radio Days – The Theater of The Mind

Growing up in Wichita Falls my parents usually had an old tabletop wooden box radio, or sometimes a floor model that I would sit next to, my ear right up to the speaker. Radio was the home entertainment of the 1940s. In fact, we didn’t have a television set until 1956, and by then I was listening to Rock ‘N’ Roll on radio – remember Snuff Garrett? – as television had not caught my interest yet.

But back to 1940s and early 1950’s radio drama. My mother listened to several of the soap operas, like Hill Top House, Our Gal Sunday, Ma Perkins, et al. On Saturday mornings I listened to Let’s Pretend. Sunday evenings I listened to The Shadow. My family liked Mr. Keen, Tracer of Lost Persons, Gunsmoke, Gangbusters, and Lineup. X Minus One was my favorite science fiction program. But I also listened to The Green Hornet, The Lone Ranger, Tarzan and Superman. I’m sure everyone had his or her favorites.

Today, the Theater of The Mind has been replaced by the visual media we call television, and we are the sadder for it. There is nothing left to the imagination. With radio the visual was in our mind, and we were alive. Fortunately, people still collect the old radio drama on tape, CD, and reel-to-reel, so many of the programs still exist. There are Internet websites when old fans can listen and download the programs. I have a closet full of CDs, record albums, and cassettes with my favorite shows. Locally, you can choose from a number of daily scheduled programs, running 24-hours, seven days a week, here http://www.theiotrs.com I am a constant listener.  Don Leary, who started it while living in Seymour, Texas, maintains the Site.

Halloween 60 Years Ago

Halloween 60 Years Ago

         I can’t remember if it was 1951, 1952 or ’53, but the school year around that time, sixty years ago, brings back a flood of memories today. It was probably my first experience of Trick-Or-Treating. But the fun of this event was that it occurred at our school that year. The teachers and faculty of San Jacinto joined with many of the parents to provide a safe and entertaining Halloween for the students. I don’t remember a lot about it, though I think only the downstairs rooms were decorated, and teachers and parents gave out candy to the students who ran from room to room. I had never been on a Trick Or Treat before, and it was a blast.

            It was the only time that I remember San Jacinto doing this, but there may well have been other years.  In fact, I wouldn’t celebrate the night again until I was a teenager and living on Blond Street several years later. I don’t know if my parents just didn’t allow it, or kids I knew didn’t do it, but Halloween was something I didn’t do.

            In some communities today, I think some teachers have a “Trunk” party on Halloween. They are not allowed to use the school facilities, but will set up in town, under supervised conditions, and children are brought to the area where they run from stand to stand, or car to car.  I’ve never seen this in action, but see the notice listed in some area newspapers.

Tom & Ginger In Costume On Drama Club Float During Parade

            As older people, my wife and I used to enjoy answering the door and handing out treats. For several years I wore a costume when we opened the door; the costume consisted of alien mask and ray gun. I had a lot of fun. One group of boys asked my wife if they could take me with them. One girl about 10 really shocked us, though. She wasn’t expecting a creepy alien to open the door, and she jumped back yelping a swear word. Unfortunately, my costume was a bit too scary for the younger children, and several of them started crying when they saw me. I decided to stop wearing the space alien suit when I answered the door, and in more recent years we have not participated in the event, preferring instead to keep our lights out, and have the children pass our house. As it was, I’m sure that some of the parents weren’t happy with me scaring their children in previous years, and avoided our house regardless.

            Halloween should be a fun time for children, but I agree with the supervised area where feasible. There is just too much meanness in the world today for our children to be running around alone in strange neighborhoods at night. I can’t help but remember how much fun we had that year at San Jacinto. I guess politics, religion, and liability put a stop to that for good, even though it was a safe and controlled environment.

I wonder if other schools participated in Halloween back then? Does anyone remember?

Book Signing In Seymour

My book signing today went poorly, but I blame the cold weather for keeping people away, and the fact that I was put outside for the ordeal. I set up just before 9 AM, and it was in the mid thirties. By noon it began warming up, and people came by to talk, but no one was interested in buying books. That’s okay, I did get exposure (more ways than one), and enjoyed meeting and talking with people. Seymour has never been much for readers. I learned that when I owned and operated a used bookstore for thirty years. My sales continue to be from other sources; for instance, my Kindle books are still selling better than the print books, both in the US and overseas. Ginger only took one picture of me at the signing, and as you can see, I’m bundled up for the cold temperatures.

By afternoon it had warmed up enough for me to shed all the winter wear, just in time for the newspaper owner to come by and snap my picture, after telling me to wave at the camera. But by then it was time to pack up and close down. Ginger and I were tired and a little disappointed that books didn’t move. Sigh.

Fill 'Er Up: The Great American Gas Station

Fill ‘Er Up: The Great American Gas Station (Americana)

By Tim Russell

Crestine: Reprint Edition

ISBN #978-0785829867

Price $11.68

208 Pages

Rating 5-Stars

“The History of An American Institution”

British author, Tim Russell, fell in love with the American gas stations while attending college in the US. A lifetime of interest in gas stations led him to study and collect everything concerning them, which eventually led to this fascinating book. Filled with many color and black & white photographs, it chronicles the history of the many service stations, their mottos, and advertisements. Remember when men – and women – gave the motorists full service?

As a young boy I remember gas stations on just about every block in Seymour, Texas, and almost the same in Wichita Falls, Texas, where I spent my formative years. In the summer of 1958, before enlisting in the Army, I worked at the Hill Top Truck Stop, several miles outside Seymour, pumping gas in the evenings and on the night shift. How well I remember climbing up on semi-trucks to clean the bugs off windshields! I don’t remember what gasoline we carried, but the Truck Stop had a small café, where my sister worked; that’s how I got the job in the first place. The owner was a mechanic and fixed flats. I did not have to do anything but give full service; although in the evenings and over night I also sold pre-packaged sandwiches that my sister had prepared. I also remember the many gimmicks the gas stations used to get regular customers to come back. In the early days they gave the kids a cartoon strip of an aviation hero (though I don’t remember the hero’s name), a goldfish in a plastic envelope, Green Stamps (?), or special glassware. My wife would send me to the same station every time to be sure to get one of their glasses she was collecting. I also recall the time I drove into a station and asked them to check the oil, water and air, and was told, “We don’t do that any more.” I was shocked. The Texaco man was no more.

People my age will enjoy the memories this book brings back. Maybe even the younger generation that heard their parents and grandparents speak of the “full-service” gas stations will want to see what it was all about. But to everyone who reads this book, I think it will give them a taste of Americana, and a time when service meant something. Well worth the small price.

Tom Johnson

Echoes Magazine