Sometimes life can be like the mechanic that disassembled an entire car to find the rattle. It turns out the rattle was caused by a marble in the ashtray. To illustrate, let me share with you, Dear Reader, a grave tale.
My mother passed away in June 2004. One of her favorite flowers was the hydrangea. My sister Anna Mae chose one of Mother’s purple outfits for her burial, and the florist did a great job matching blue/purple hydrangeas for the arrangements.

I was working away one day at my computer when I heard a laugh just outside my door. Union County Mayor Jason Bailey was standing there. He asked, “Do you always talk to yourself like that?”

I just read a headline on my Facebook news feed titled “A Mother Says Her Son Was Sold in a Mock Slave Auction. School District Votes Unanimously on Action Plan.”

Mincey's Musings by Ronnie Mincey
I graduated from Lincoln Memorial University’s Ed.D. program in May of 2012. A sense of idealism seemed renewed in me as a result, and I felt a need to contribute something to the community in which I was raised and received my elementary and high school education. I decided to do three things to make myself a useful citizen.

It seems a lot of my most beloved relatives have passed away in February, most notably my revered great aunt Lidia Mincey and my two oldest siblings. I spent the end of February in nostalgic reflection. The week just passed had some dates of special significance to me.
February 24, 2022 my father would have turned 108. Two days later, February 26, 2022 marked the 40th anniversary to the day of his death.

I once received an email that included this description of a most loved past time—“Long ago, when men cursed and beat the ground with sticks, it was called witchcraft. Today, it’s called golf.”
My late brother J. C. Mincey loved the game. He once told me that during his life (I almost typed “lie”) he had hit six holes in one, but no one was present except himself any of the six times. My brother was a true legend, if nowhere else at least in his own mind.

My father’s youngest sister, my aunt Fleetie Thomas, lived at 2110 Hoitt Avenue in Knoxville for many years. The two rooms at the very front of her house and the two directly behind them each had two doors, meaning that if all four doors were opened at the same time a little boy could run himself silly in a circle. This was a practically a once in a lifetime opportunity, as the front bedroom was closed off year-round.

During the Christmas holidays I visited with some of my favorite relatives in another state. While there, I watched the movie Don’t Look Up. The movie was a doomsday type of story that satirized the public reception of pertinent news in the United States and the political response.

It does not surprise me in the least that when the serpent tempted Eve in the Garden of Eden that food was involved. The old adage says that a person should not live to eat, but eat to live. The problem with a lot of people is knowing where to draw the line at eating just enough to live, particularly during holidays and celebrations.

My sister Icy Madelene (aka Pat) McMurray is famous in our family for her belief in the restorative and healing properties of Vicks VapoRub. She has told me that this marvelous ointment can treat/cure anything.
Because of this, I was most interested in a Facebook post concerning the uses for Vicks VapoRub. I did a quick Google search on Vicks VapoRub and will relate below from memory some of the interesting things I discovered. You can do a Google search for more detailed information, but the Facebook post listed the following uses: