Minceys Musings

Which Came First, the Egg or the Basket?

Ronnie Mincey

Mincey’s Musings
Year Two, Week Fifteen

When I got to work this morning after the Easter weekend holiday, I was clearing my email when I came across this interesting subject line: Do you have all your eggs in one basket? It is a question perhaps best not contemplated first thing on Monday morning of a work week.

Musical Money

Ronnie Mincey

Those who know me well probably won’t believe this, but the first money I remember earning was for singing.

When I was about four or five years old my family rented a house on Academy Street in downtown Maynardville. The yard did not have much grass in either the front or the back.

The Definition of Freedom

Ronnie Mincey

Mincey’s Musings
Year Two, Week Thirteen

To many he was a burden from the moment of conception. He was so unwanted by his birth mother that she tried to abort him six months into her pregnancy. Her efforts failed, but resulted in his premature birth with handicapping conditions that he was to endure for his entire life. There were many who pitied him and felt him nothing more than a prisoner in a deformed body.

Teachers, Books and the Greatest Book of All

Ronnie Mincey

Mincey’s Musings
Year Two, Week Twelve

When I was in first grade, Ms. Hazel Butcher gave me the teacher’s edition to some of the old reading books. One of my greatest regrets in life is that I let two brats bully me into giving them those books. It turns out they are one of the things that can’t be found on Amazon.

Who Knows?

Ronnie Mincey

If memory serves me correctly, the then sitting Union County Board of Education ousted sitting Director of Schools David F. Coppock in spring, 2001. Three months later, a new director, Dr. James Pratt from Albertville, Alabama had been hired. It was Dr. Pratt’s philosophy to let principals hire their own teachers and to make very few changes his first year in office. He did make at least one change during his second and final year—he moved me from principal at Sharps Chapel to principal at Luttrell.

Reservations, Please!

Ronnie Mincey

Mincey’s Musings
Year Two, Week Nine

I was part of a conversation last week that revolved on horrible motel experiences. It seems that anyone who has traveled much at all has a horror story or two to tell about overnight travel accommodations.

I had a nephew who was graduating from Marine basic training at Paris Island, South Carolina. There is much I could tell you about that trip, and I believe I will share that experience with you next week. But for now, the only part I’ll share is about the hotel.

Portrayed (Betrayed?) by History

Ronnie Mincey

Mincey’s Musings
Year Two, Week Eight

I was on my way to the Central Office this past Saturday to work on the districtwide plan. I drove down Main Street to see if there was flooding due to the record amount of rain that was being received. As I passed the First Baptist Church of Maynardville, I noticed organist and attorney K. David Myer’s truck in the parking lot.

Food Makes the Man?

Ronnie Mincey

I did something this past weekend that I have never done before. My good friend and former teacher Martha Warwick sent me a notice on “Messenger” that the Lincoln Museum at Lincoln Memorial University was sponsoring free admission on weekends in the month of February. Most fascinating to me, however, was the fact that patrons would be allowed to enter the vault.

Publicly Private

Ronnie Mincey

Mincey’s Musings
Year Two, Week Four

My good friend Sharon MacDonald was a Type I diabetic. I did not know this until once I went to the movies with her. After we were seated, she began to act strangely. I didn’t quite know what to make of her unusual behavior. She retained enough presence of mind to ask me to go buy her some candy, and I did.

Kids Say (and Hear) the Darndest Things!

Ronnie Mincey

Mincey’s Musings
Year Two, Week Three

There are probably some older folks left who remember Art Linkletter. I barely remember him myself. According to Wikipedia:

Arthur Gordon Linkletter (born Arthur Gordon Kelly . . . or Gordon Arthur Kelley . . . (sources differ), July 17, 1912 – May 26, 2010) was a Canadian-born American radio and television personality. He was the host of House Party, which ran on CBS radio and television for 25 years, and People Are Funny, on NBC radio and TV for 19 years . . .

What a Joke!

What a Joke!

Mincey’s Musings Year Two, Week Two

A frustrated conductor once asked a band player with issues, “Son, what is it with you? Is it ignorance or apathy?” The player replied, “I don’t know, and I don’t care.”

This is a slightly tweaked missive that came my way via email. It reminded me of a joke I once heard at a meeting which I shall attempt to embellish for your reading pleasure.

Beyond the Sunset

Ronnie Mincey

In her poem, Emily Dickinson was speaking of two life events that were as painful and devastating as death. The beauty of poetry, and literature in general, is the myriad of meaning that a poem or story can have on different people.

File Under “M” (for Memories)

Ronnie Mincey

Mincey’s Musings
Year One, Week Forty-Nine

How many kids do you know who would like to have a file cabinet? You are reading the writing right now of a former child who not only wanted but craved one.

Of course, I wanted a file cabinet to complement my fantasy school teaching life. And when I got it, it was a doozy!

Give a Kid the World

Ronnie Mincey

Mincey’s Musings
Year One, Week Forty-Eight

It was forty years ago this very month that I received a Christmas gift that I would even now not trade for thousands of dollars.

I’m not even sure how it came about, but somehow my mother began saving S & H green stamps. At some point Hensley’s IGA must have issued them, for I don’t remember my mother ever shopping anywhere else. Perhaps she had my sister Anna Mae, my brother Jerry, or Cousin Lizzie Norton get them for her, as they lived and shopped in Knoxville.

The Last Christmas Gift

Ronnie Mincey

It seems the greatest and happiest moments of our lives are tinged with a bit of sadness at the realization that they can’t last forever.
Every year on Christmas Eve, all of my sister Anna Mae’s family would gather at her house to eat, but mainly to exchange gifts. Mother and I were always invited, and Anna Mae always gave me most enjoyable gifts. I remember so many of them.
One was a candle lamp with a hurricane globe. I still have that lamp, though I broke the hurricane globe long ago and had to find a slightly differently shaped globe for replacement. Anna Mae also once gave me a wind-up carousel with many mirrors to reflect light. I still have it on a library shelf, though one of the three horses has broken off and been lost.

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