Big Head... Big Brain... Smart Kid!!!

I've always known I had a larger than normal head. Never easy to buy a hat since my size is rarely available but, my Dad always found the best in things that had to do with me.

When I was a baby, Dad wold plop me into a stroller and wheel me around downtown Miami. When people would stop to look at me, Dad would say... "Look how big his head is.  That means he has a big brain.  He's a really smart boy."

Realizing the massive contribution to mankind my brain would be, my Dad realized he was honor bound to protect it.  So, he had a special leather helmet made for me to wear so if, heaven forbid, I were to fall down, the world would not lose my brain.  I cannot make this stuff up.

This helmet was normal attire for me until I was about 3 years old. Once I was a toddler secure on my feet, they figured it was safe to let me out of the house without that cool headdress.

Not Easy To Leash Train A  Buzzard!

The exquisite helmet was replaced with a custom made harness and an expandable leash.  Yep my Mom walked me every day on a 10 feet rubber leash.  It allowed me to run away but when I hit the end of that 10 feet.... well.. I quickly returned to her.  Sometimes nearly knocking her down.

When I hit the ripe old age of 4, my Dad decided I was in danger of falling out of bed which could possibly damage my amazing brain. Soooo, he had a carpenter come in and custom build a "CAGE" around my bed to keep me from falling out and, of course, to prevent "brain thieves" from entering my bedroom at night and taking me, or my brain for their own gain. I really wish I had a picture of the leash or cage.

Kathy didn't really believe all this until my cousin Ronny who was about 10 years older than me actually told her the same stories. He was there..... God help him!

My Dad must have been right in all this since, never once did anyone successfully steal me or my 50 pound brain.

The Buzzard

A Face Without Freckles Is Like A Night Without Stars....

I think one of the most indelible memories we ever have is that of our "first love." I'll bet you remember yours and I sure do remember mine. Naomi Gregory.... the name still makes me smile.

I met Naomi when I was 5 or 6 and living at my GrandMa's house in Miami.  She lived a few doors down from us and my little heart was a goner the first time I saw her.  Red hair, freckles and a blindingly white smile. She asked me if I wanted to play box-ball with her.

I wish I had a picture of the real Naomi but I don't so, I went looking for one that looked like her and found this one.  It looks surprisingly like "my" Naomi.

We played together just about everyday for that year or so and then I moved  few miles away to live with my Aunt Mary.  It wasn't all that far but it might as well have been across the country for a 7 year old Buzzard.

After a lot of years working with kids in youth groups, I have great sympathy when they tell me they are in love.  I don't laugh at them cause, I've been there and I know how real it can feel.

I remain a sucker for red hair and freckles. Either one will do actually. I know my Mom had very deep red hair so I guess that's part of it but I think Naomi was the main reason.

I've known several red heads in my life and really liked nearly all of them.  Most were girls. Patty Baldwin, Cherie Walker, Lindy Uhl and a few more. Right now I have two red headed friends who I like a lot. Holly and Joy Creasman are a couple of the finest young ladies I've ever known.

I do believe that God loves freckles too.  He seemed to put them on a lot of his creations and they nearly always look great.

A Bad Buzzard Get's A Treat! I lost Naomi Gregory when I was in 2nd grade but I did get to see her again.  In sixth grade I was in the lunchroom of Silver Bluff Elementary School and asked the evil looking German woman "Can I have a sloppy Joe please?"

I remember she looked like a rottweiler in a white coat and a hair net.  She yelled out "Don't call my food slop!!! Go to the end of the line!!"  The line was long so I was mad and I threw my tray on the floor and kicked it as hard as I could.

I didn't realize that the principal was running up to see what was going on and the tray I kicked hit her in the ankle.  She fell to the floor yelling and her ankle turned out to be broken.

I was promptly expelled! My Dad enrolled me in Mrs. Curbanhan's Day School to get me thru the year. And guess who was there every afternoon???? Yep, Naomi Gregory.  As cute and sweet as ever.  Sometimes getting expelled from school can actually be a blessing.

The true love-of-my-life, Kathy actually has a touch of red in her hair thanks to her red headed daddy.  You can see it when the sun hits it.

The Buzzard

The Buzzard at GrandMa's House

Keepin' Cool!

Sometimes it amazes me what I remember as a kid.  My grandparents owned a house on 32nd Avenue in Miami where I
spent most of my first 6 years. It was a totally cool house.  We had one of the very first air conditioned houses in Miami. Yep, my Dad had a commercial AC unit installed in the living room.  It was huge.... floor to cieling and sounded like a hurricane when it was on.  It was a unit designed to cool a large store so it wold drop the temperature in there like a rock.



My Dad also got the franchise for the very first car air conditioner and we actually had the first air conditioned car in Florida.  Yeah.... we had this thing about being cool.  My Dad made one of his famous business decisions and dropped the franchise because he figured AC for cars was a fad and no one would actually pay for it.

It was at this house my GrandDad broke my nose.  He bought me a softball for my 4th birthday and tossed it across the room to me. I made a great stop with my face and ended up with a broken nose.  That was the last time GrandDad ever played with me.





The "Buzzard" is born.

GrandDad was a gambler. Cards, horses, dogs or whatever he could find.  One day when I was 2 years old, I was on the living room floor and he gave me crayon and a newspaper to keep me quiet.  It was the racing section of the paper.  I sat there drawing circles around a horses name "Buzz Fuzz". GranDad thought it was a "sign" so he went to the track and bet on "Buzz Fuzz" to win.  The horse was a 40 to 1 shot and... he finished first!! My GrandDad started caling me Buzz Fuzz all the time but it quickly shortened to "Buzzy".

It was my neighbor Randy Macy who first started calling me The Buzzard.  My family hated it but I thought it was kinda cool so it stuck.

About my GranDad, I remember he shot his finger off while cleaning his shotgun out in the grarage.  He hardly ever spoke English. Mostly Arabic but he would never teach any of the family Arabic.  Said we were Americans and Americans spoke English.  I think he just wanted a way t talk to GrandMa without us knowing what they were saying.

Palmetto Bugs!

For those who do not know, Palmetto Bugs are roaches on steroids.  They are 3 to 4 inches long and fly. Nothing struck terror into my heart like hearing the whir of their wings in the dark.  Not knowing where it was landing.  The hair is standing up on the back of my neck as I type this.


GrandMa was fearless though.  She would chase those suckers with a fly swatter and hit them 8 or 10 times before they would die.  All the time she would be yelling in Arabic.



A Closet Full Of Money!

During this time my Dad and my Uncle Joe owned a small night club called The Saints and Sinners Lounge on Coral Way in Miami.  I would spend a lot of time over there with Dad and the waitreses were always really nice to me.

Back then all the tips were in change and the girls would get my Daddy to give them cash for the change every night.  He would come home every night with a big bank bag full of quarters, dimes and nickes.  He'd open the closet door and just dump the whole thing right there on the floor.  We had a pile of change in the closet that had to be 2 feet high and 4 or 5 feet across.  Anytime I wanted any money I would just go to the closet for a handful.  I really love a handful of change to this day.

The Buzzard