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Clifford Parker

Clifford Parker


From the Book of Clifford - March 10

Monday, 10 March 2014 18:14

When I was growing up as little kid on Hufsmith Road, our nearest neighbor was four or five hundred yards away. It was close enough to hear them scream, but you couldn't very well holler at each other from yard to yard. As years passed, part of our families have stayed here on the same properties and we have built houses near each other. Now we can talk from yard to yard. My cousin used to live behind me on family property, but they eventually sold out. My new neighbors are Larry and his wife.
Larry bought the place from my cousin and has built it into a respectful country location with the capability to raise several cows or horses. Larry and his wife enjoy horses. He and I are the kind of neighbors that would do anything for each other. We are not bosom buddies, but Larry and I have this unspoken understanding that a lot of men have. Men don't always have to voice ourselves to each other – we simply understand each other without verbal communication. We both know that if an emergency comes up we can count on each other. We would both risk life and limb to protect each others family and property. Have we said that out loud to each other? No, we don't have to. We just know it. It's the way guys are. We guys also enjoy harassing those we care about. Again, that's just the way guys are and today I'm harassing Larry. I think he may be headed toward male menopause. Let me try to explain.
Larry has helped me on several occasions and to be honest with you, I have wanted to try to return the favors, but my timing always seems to be little bit off. About the time I see Larry has a need, I prepare myself to offer help and by the time I get around to it, his need has already been taken care of.
When the big hurricane hit several years ago I was able to see a part of the landscape I had not seen in about twenty years. I had a big six foot fence across our back yard and the fence got tore down, but I have since fixed it. When it was destroyed I could see things I had not seen before, namely, Larry's horses and building projects.
Larry lost a portion of the roof of his barn during the hurricane. I looked out my newly opened back yard and saw that his roof had been laid back like a sardine can. It was still there, but simply rolled back. A few days after the storm he and a lot of other people helped me big time by trying to un-block my driveway from a fallen tree. I figured I could return the favor by helping him replace his barn roof. I came home a few days later and the roof had been repaired in a short span of less than four hours or so from the time I thought about helping him.
"Hmm, unusually quick repair," I thought to myself. A few weeks later another large thunderstorm came through and once again, Larry's barn roof was rolled back. I kind of chuckled to myself and thought maybe Larry had placed a new roof opener on his barn kind of like the Reliant Stadium. A few days later I look back there and one of his horses had its head stuck out the back of the barn cause some of the back metal had fallen off.
"Hmmm," I once again thought to myself, "maybe Larry is trying to give his horses some air." "I'll go help him this afternoon." Then when I got home the barn was all nailed back up again. If I'm not mistaken the roof may have been opened and closed a third time too, but I just don't recall.
Suddenly one day as I look back across my newly opened back yard I saw that Larry had started a new project. A BRAND NEW BARN! That lucky dog! I have wanted a new barn too, but now Larry has got me worried which leads me to the male menopause thing. I think he is getting ready to start raising little miniature horses. The reason I thought this is that now as I look at the old barn, the top half of the barn walls are gone and the roof has been lowered down to about four foot high! I woke up one morning and peered out the back window and all I see is this new roof line across the fence. A roof line that was once about seven or eight feet high is now barely high enough for a short legged jersey cow.
I was really worried about Larry. I thought Larry was about to expand his equine empire. Surely his wife knew about this. It could also become a children's petting zoo too maybe because of the low ceiling height. I don't know if Larry is considering a career change or what. This is one of the first signs of male menopause. Well, I am pleased to say that Larry is doing ok. No male menopause! He tore the barn down and has completed his new barn.
  Now lest anyone ask me who am I to judge a man and his own male menopause, I've been there! I know how good it feels just to let your mind go wild and do things you normally would never let anybody know you were doing. The only problem for Larry, however, is the fact he lives behind Clifford! He probably never knew his life would become as open of a book as mine is. Man, I sure am glad I got my fence fixed! I was worried Larry would see me in my white briefs through my kitchen window.

– Clifford

From the Book of Clifford - Feb. 24

Monday, 24 February 2014 19:27

I'm right proud of the fact I was born and raised right here in this part of Texas.
If you study our geography we are midway between a whole lot of different regions on the Harris and Montgomery County borders. We sit between the coastal plains regions and the piney woods of East Texas. The beach isn't too far away and a good hunting trip is right at our back door. We have areas of rice fields, oil fields, vegetable fields, fields of grain and fields of game. We have timberland, farmland, city land and country land.
We have all of the conveniences any man could ask for. If we want to travel, we can go from desert to snow capped mountains and never leave the state. That makes me proud! Gold mines, salt mines, sugar cane, seafood, cattle, hogs and chickens are all part of our area. Top notch medical facilities, computer companies, the space industry, shipping ports, railroads and a lot of other industries make up this part of Texas.
Along with these great things that we have around ourselves we also possess a southern tradition like no other state can offer. Even though some things have occurred in recent history to alter our ways, we still believe in high school football, bonfires, rodeos, calf scrambles, little league baseball, pee wee football, softball games and church picnics, as they are all part of this great tradition.
Since some readers were born elsewhere, but got here to Texas as fast as they could, I wanted to educate you a little further on the ways of a southern gentleman and hope you can understand, because some of our traditions may seem strange to the rest of the world.
Now when you read these things I want you to add the following words in front of each statement “As a southern gentleman.” Read them out loud.
As a southern gentleman, I always take my hat or cap off when I enter a building. I believe that a baseball cap should not be worn sideways like Gomer Pyle unless I want to portray his level of intelligence. The bill should be shaped to let the water run off and block the sun. Always try to open the door for anyone who may be near the entrance at the same time I am and allow them to enter first. Always say thank you if someone holds the door open for me. Always remember to say yes ma'am, no ma'am, yes sir and no sir when speaking to someone else. Never call anyone by their first name, until I am given permission to do so or wait until they call me by my first name. Believe marriage is forever and love has to be nurtured. Would hunt to feed my family and kill to protect them. Believe a good hunting trip is not only about the game taken, but is also about hunting the game fairly. Do not believe guns and alcohol and cars and alcohol should be used at the same time. Believe that underwear should be worn as underwear and not as a fashion statement for outerwear. Believe that a cell phone should be used for talking, but not while driving or plowing a field and should certainly not be used when watching a movie or enjoying a football game. Believe that guns don't kill people and only people kill people and if they take away my guns then only outlaws will have guns. Believe that anything that I want to do I can do it better than anybody else, but I also understand I can't do all things. Believe barbecued brisket should not be served as gourmet foods and fish eggs are used for bait and not eating. Believe there are a lot of other things I believe in but am already tired of thinking about them!

– Clifford

From the Book of Clifford - Feb. 17

Monday, 17 February 2014 21:34

I am full of “why” questions. There are many things in life that I simply don't and will probably never understand, but I can still ask why. 
Now most of this is guy stuff because I learned a long time ago not to ask too many questions about women. The reason I know not to ask why about women's stuff is because even the good Lord himself cannot figure out women. Now in case you don't believe me just think about the word woman. With all due credit to Bill Cosby, the way I figure it is when God created a female and after he realized what he had created, he stepped back and said to himself. wo…man, as in, woe man, as in woe is me. This is why I am now aged and smart enough to not question why a woman does certain things. (I guess you can tell however that I have not learned how to keep my mouth shut and not print such things in the newspaper! I'm in big trouble now!)
Why? Why do teenagers, from the advent of car radios, have to drive down the road with the volume turned up so loud that it shatters our speakers, wreaks havoc on our ear drums and causes fear in other drivers by surprising them with the loud noise? Now that I have come of age I realize how dumb this was and it makes me question why.
Why? When I was young, me and the Mueller boys acted as if we were make believe scuba divers. We would place a chain over our shoulders and place the end of a water hose in our mouth. We would have a buddy on the other end holding the hose out of the water so we could breath and then we would walk across the bottom of our swimming hole on Spring Creek. Why? There was no rhyme or reason for such stupid stunts because we could have touched the bottom of the muddy creek bottom fairly easily but for some reason, the act of walking on the bottom versus just swimming to the bottom seemed more of a manly feat. Why?
Why? When we went deer hunting we were usually tired of sitting in a stand after the first hour or so from daybreak. A lot of times that could be some of your best deer hunting, but we were impatient. We would climb out of our stands and meet at our appointed location and as we walked back to the house we felt an urgent need to blast the base of small pine trees on our way out of the woods. We would shoot them at the base until the young sapling would fall to the ground. Why? All we did was waste good shells and probably messed up the poor guy’s hunting several properties over! Why?
Why? Why do kids like the smell of gasoline? Now don't even act like you have never smelled gas before.
Why? Why do kids have to taste dried dog food, rabbit food, cattle cubes and the like? What is so special about that animal feed that makes a dumb kid want to taste it?
Why? Why did we find it necessary to try and peel out and burn rubber in our parent's cars? What did we accomplish by leaving that black streak of rubber on the road? All it did is make noise and waste a good set of tires?
Why? Why did the old cotton farmers wake up at all hours of the early morning to go out into the fields, only to sit on a cotton sack until the sun came up to pick cotton? Why not time things where you and daylight could arrive about the same time?
Why? Do you remember what a Chinese Fire Drill is? Have you ever done it? Why? What is so special about stopping your car at a red light and everybody running around the car before the light turns green? "What difference does it make?" as one current politician has said. And for that matter, why is it called a Chinese Fire Drill?
I will never know the true answers to why. I am sure there are a lot of opinions but then again that would be a new question of, what difference does it make?

– Clifford

From the Book of Clifford - Feb. 10

Monday, 10 February 2014 21:33

Occasionally people get offended at my stories. I don't mean to offend anybody, but several months ago I wrote a story about passing gas and some people got real upset that I would discuss such a thing in public. I kind of wondered if the people who complained were some of the same people who go to a movie and laugh at sexual humor or maybe they throw out a cuss word once in a while. The way I see it, if you can't laugh about passing gas you must be pretty bored!
Well this is one of those stories. No, it's not about passing gas. It's about babies and poopie diapers. I have shared one of these before, but a good story is like a good steak. You can always go back for seconds.
When my daughter was a little baby and still in diapers she was sitting on my knee in church one Sunday morning. I was supporting her bottom side with one hand and supporting her head, neck, and back area with the other, allowing her to sit upright.
My temple began to itch a little bit, so I scratched my temple with the inside heel of my palm and promptly placed my hand back under her bottom. After a few seconds I could tell it was diaper changing time, but the smell was extra strong. I suddenly realized not only was her diaper dirty, but so was my temple! We quickly made an exit to the restroom!
I still remember when a young man I know was just a toddler. Years ago I would have given you his name, but now he is old enough to be embarrassed when an old guy like me uses his name in the paper. My new buddy couldn't say his own name when this occurred.
He had just learned to walk, was trying his best to talk and was very proud that he had began potty training at the time! One day his mom walked into the bedroom and promptly found this young man standing in the middle of the bed and he had taken his own diaper off! Quite an accomplishment for such a young man who had only just begun potty training. The only problem, however, is it seemed he hadn't learned the purpose of the potty yet as he was standing in the middle of the bed and he proudly did number one and number two on the bed sheets! Oh well, at least his heart was in it. If he can just get his brain to function and put two plus two together he will go a long way in life.
I know that almost all parents have dealt with one potty disaster or another. Diapers that leak, diapers get taken off by the kids, things fall out of diapers onto areas where the things that fall out of diapers are not supposed to touch, wet stuff, runny stuff, stuff up the back and down the legs – we have probably all dealt with them at one time or another. I guess one of the worst stories I remember being told about babies and poop is about my good friend Raggy Butt. Since some of you will know who Raggy Butt is I will tell you that this story comes from his sisters. I have heard several versions over the years, so it has to be true.
It seems when he was little and taking a bath with another family member, someone had deposited some floaties in the water. As they surfaced to the top Raggy Butt was caught squishing them between his fingers and he was… well, he put them in his, in his mo… Oh well, you know! Really, really gross. That is a lot worse than the cattle cubes, dog food, rabbit food and all the other nasty stuff some guys have eaten.
I'm sure you have heard this before but it kind of reminds me about the story of the little boy who took raisins to his schoolteacher every day for several weeks. One day he arrived without any raisins for his teacher and the teacher inquired about why no raisins were left today. He promptly told the teacher his rabbit had died!

– Clifford

From the Book of Clifford - Feb. 3

Monday, 03 February 2014 19:04

What's in a name? A name identifies. It separates. It distinguishes one place or individual from another. Names can invoke a smile or a frown. Some names remain in our memories forever and some fade away quickly.
  I'm kind of picky about names. I want names to be pronounced as intended and spelled as desired by their owners.
In today's society names are becoming harder and harder to deal with. Some names I can't even pronounce, much less spell!
In some restaurants when I give them my name the server's nose curls up trying to figure out how to spell Clifford. My name has been spelled Cliford, Clofford, Clifferd, Cliffard, and it will probably be spelled incorrectly many more times in the future. It still bothers me.
My son-in law's father has started just using the name Jones. The reason he does this is because their last name is Moran. He has gotten tired of telling people how to spell it and he's tired of being called a moron so he just uses the name Jones. The problem is when the name Jones is called, half the people waiting for a seat usually jump and run to the table.
Many, many years ago, Rhonda Schiel and I, along with several other local residents, started trying to get the name of Hufsmith spelled correctly. Hufsmith was settled and originally named for a man named Frank Hufsmith spelled with only one F. As time passed during the late fifties and early sixties Harris County started spelling it incorrectly with two F's. This continued until the seventies when we finally got Harris County to start fixing the problem. I have been told several times that Hufsmith was almost named Bogsville in honor of the Bogs Families that helped settle this area.
You can still see signs improperly spelling Hufsmith. I guess in the future I will launch another campaign to have it corrected again.
I guess one of these days I will write to Muntgomery County and ask thim to hellp us straiten it out in their area two! (Of cource this is purposely misspelled but it shows how bad things can get sometimes!)
So what's the big deal? Well, it seems we are slowly but surely losing the ability to properly speak, act, spell, think, and all sorts of other things. Even though we are supposed to be smarter than the generations before us, I really believe society in general is being dumbed down when it comes to relationships between humans. We no longer have to know how to spell simply because we have spell check and nowadays the truth be told, a lot of people really don't care if a message they receive or a text they read is misspelled. In the old days we had to pull out a dictionary or some other form of reading material and figure out for ourselves how to spell a word. It helped us learn. Allowing a computer to check your work makes people lazy and with laziness comes dumbness. One feeds the other.
Ok, so I know that someone is already criticizing my usage of the English Language in this story because I am the first to admit, I do not use the Kings English very well! I speak like my family speaks and I use language usually understood best by those in the south, but at least I tried! My own beautiful bride ribs me about my English but at least she understands me. There are many people using language nowadays that just simply makes no sense.
Now don't misunderstand me, I like technology, but dealing with other human beings through relationships is what makes us separate from the animal world. Speaking, spelling and communicating correctly helps advance those relationships. It stimulates the brain and keeps us sharp, so next time you decide to text the person sitting across the table from you and ask them to pass the salt, open your mouth and speak.

– Clifford

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