Monday, August 9, 2010

"Todlums" aka Carlus Wayne Morgan

If any of you read the "Boat Fishing Story"...... you know "Todlums"

When I first started blogging, I wrote this for "Sixty second Writer", but never put it on my blog. Well, here it is.....

The prompt "Trust"

Reminiscing is a common past time when the beard turns gray and “The Bark of The Dogwoods” becomes brittle and shallow. Old men sometimes tire of playing checkers and other highly active games and they resort to other less strenuous exercises such as games of “Remember When”.

“ Bet I got something of yore’n that you have forgotten about”.

Smoke curled from his freshly lit corncob pipe. It was bobbing up and down. He kinda looked like Popeye except he didn’t have the massive ham hock forearms. I swiveled around on my stool and looked around the barn trying to see what might be out of place or missing. Hell, who could tell anyways? It had been longer than yesterday since I had straightened up the sundry of tools that I had collected over the past forty some odd years.

“Hell, I don’t know”. “You better not drag this out too long, we both are on borrowed time and best I remember you’re older than me”

Somehow we both thought that was funny. Hearty laughter just seems to make the joints move a little smoother.

“Need any money”? The growl sounded more like a a directive than a question.

“Nope, still got some beer in the fridge”

He slowly fished around in the back pocket of his old overalls and fished out his old weather worn wallet. He had his head all crook-ed and sideways. His eyes all squenced shut from the over abundance of smoke. He finally fumbled around until he pulled out of stack of folded receipts and other junk. He shuffled them around until he pulled out a folded piece of currency.

“Yonta take a peek at that”? Still another directive.

I unfolded the wrinkled bill and recognized it to be a two dollar bill. Instantly my smile could no longer be suppressed. I guess the smoke was in my eyes too.

“I don’t need it yet”, I replied as I gently handed it back to him.

“Didja thank that I had lost it”?


“Well that day while we were out at the old Sinclair plant a dranking hot beer, you handed me that two dollar bill and told me to hold onto it ‘till you might need it so if you don’t need it, I figure you trust me to hold onto it ‘till you do”
Today nineteen sixty seven doesn’t seem like such a long time ago.I spit on the ground and finally spoke again,

“ Give me another beer and put that danged ole pipe out, that smoke is making my eyes water".

July 24, 1949 - August 9, 2010

June 6, 2009 2:05 PM


  1. Mine, too. It must be some pretty strong smoke to have drifted all the way to Georgia.

  2. I get a real sense for why you were such good friends...

  3. Oh, I liked that story. I can just picture these two codgers! Well done!

  4. You convey the ease of the conversation and friendship so well. I'm sorry for your loss Glenn.

  5. ...and I'm glad that you finally did put it in your blog. A marvelous tribute written in a way that only you could write it.

  6. Aaah, so sorry for the loss of your friend, Glenn. But what a sweet story about friendship.

  7. Those friendships don't come around very often,so sorry for your loss. I soon will lose a friend with this type of closeness as he is not doing well and nearing the end. I guess we have to remember we were pretty doggone blessed to have ever found a friend like this in the first place. I just love what you can do with words,it soothes the soul.

  8. Awww. I'm sorry about your friend Glenn. I like him, and he's already gone. You don't have to be so old and gray for this game. I play it all the time :)

  9. Love the bond of friendship between these men...
    you were blessed......:-) Hugs

  10. glenn, perfectly written. underwritten in a way as it is underspoken between two such old friends.

    i clicked on his picture. he is beautiful. and too young for such endings.

    big hugs to you, friend