Larry Fullington has a spring in his step at 87 and a witty retort that brings a smile to your face. I had an inkling that he could write.  This piece gives us a chance to see what this funny guy is really about. Enjoy!

Recollections of J. Sweetpants Goodbody
By Larry Fullington

I’ve been asked to give some information about what it was like growing up in the deep South, and how it helped shape who I am.  Also, how it may have been different from other parts of the country. To do this, it will be necessary to begin at the beginning.  As a child all I knew about other areas of the country, say the Yankees up North, was that they talked funny.  It was also rumored that they taught propaganda in their schools and actually claimed that the North won the Civil War.
Growing up during the Great Depression (born in 1930), there was considerable financial hardship all around; however we kids had an enormous advantage against the times.  That asset was the unquestioned love of our family for each other.  Dad and Mom taught us responsibility and the value of personal integrity.  They also taught us the warmth of enfolding arms when needed, and tears are okay by both boys and girls if so moved.  Mainly, there was an awful lot of fun and laughter going on.
As kids, we did some pretty nutty things. Although I personally almost always maintained dignity and the proper decorum, I remember the time as youngsters Tommy Jeffords and I went to the railroad track and climbed the two tall lookout/maintenance ladders and platforms that hung out over the track.  We would wave to the engineers as the train flew past underneath us.  One time as the train was approaching, the engineer tooted his horn at us.  The problem was this released a huge plume of smoke that enveloped Tommy and me.  When we looked across at each other, we had instantly gone from white to black from head to toe!  When we finished laughing, we tried to clean ourselves up.  However, the smoke was also greasy, and it took considerable scrubbing to clean away.  Happily, Mom and Dad never found out what we had been doing!
We also swam in Village Creek, and did not find out until later that it was where one area of the city dumped their sewage.  One time, I had just gotten out of the water, and heard a splashing sound about 15 feet around the bend.  When I looked, I saw a large Cottonmouth Moccasin snake enjoying a swim.  That was my last swim in the creek!  Somehow we all survived such travails in spite of ourselves.
Christmas in the ’30s was a time for mostly practical gifts because of the financial situation.  I remember one year I got only underwear and socks.  I was so excited, I ran through the house in my undies a number of times to show them off.  (One of the rare times I dropped my dignity posture, but not my undies)
High school was a great time with football games and other sports, weekly dances for the entire city schools, hayrides, picnics and other outings. Everybody in my group gave each other nicknames.  There was “Monkey Belly” Simmons, BB ears for my brother, Smut Smith, and Blowhard Wilson.  For the girls, we did not need to make up names.  One of our girl classmates was Orlawaga Goodykoonz, and one was Chrysanthemum Muckinfuss.  We called her Chris for short.  In my case, I was so sweet and fine and good in all ways, they called me J. Sweetpants Goodbody.
My brother Bill met and fell in love with a freshman girl who was fourteen years old.  He saw the one for him, knew right then he would marry her, and that was it! They married when she was 15 and they had a wonderful marriage for over 50 years before she passed away.  I felt it was my duty to date a number of girls so as to “spread it around”.  One girl of special memory was from another high school.  Her name was “Foo Foo” Finley.  She reminded me of Dolly Parton before Dolly was Dolly Parton.  Woof!
In Birmingham, there is a huge iron statute called “Vulcan” that sits atop Red Mountain south of town.  It is the largest cast iron statute in the world, and looks down on the city of Birmingham from a height of 600 feet.  Vulcan weighs 60 tons.  It is a beloved icon celebrating the city’s steel and iron industry.  It has been there many years, and we kids used to take our high school dates up there.  We would climb the steps inside Vulcan to get to the top and enjoy the view of the city at night from the highest point.  Some years back, one of the mayors was cutting the budget, and did not want to spend money to do some badly needed repairs and upgrades required for Vulcan.  He lived right down the hill from Vulcan, and did not like having to look up at him from his backyard.  It became very contentious.  While the budget battle was going on, Vulcan had been rusting away both inside and out for some time and was closed to the public.  As a result of all the rust, some while back Vulcan had gotten a hole in the top of his head.  He had been filling up with rainwater for some time, so he had quite a reservoir already built up when a huge rainstorm hit the city.  Naturally, water had gone to the lowest points in Vulcan, including his “credentials” area.  At one point, the lower tip of Vulcan’s credentials gave way, and a deluge came gushing forth.  The flow went straight for the Mayor’s home and seriously flooded it including bringing debris in the yard, and damage inside the house!  Although just a large hunk of iron, Vulcan showed the mayor what he thought of him, and the majority of the people in the city cheered!   Soon after, the City Council unanimously approved the repairs to Vulcan!  The work was done including the upgrades, and today Vulcan looks majestic.  Also, the people swear if you look closely, he now has a grin on his face.  (My brother Bill told me this story and Bill wouldn’t lie.)
I am a Southerner, and growing up there we revered our southern belle women, and learned to treat’em with respect.  My sweetheart is a Yankee however, so it has been a learning and adaption process for us both as to what constitutes respect, etc.  The following excerpts are from some of our experiences along that line:
While growing up and seeing farms in operation, I learned a lot of just plain good common sense lessons.  These apply in a number of areas.  For instance, in dealing with my sweetheart Kate, I find if I keep her watered and fed, she gentles down real nice and is easier to handle.  I just yell “time to feed” and she comes running!
A few years ago, I helped teach Kate how to ski.  After a few lessons, I told her I felt she was ready for the intermediate slopes.  My mistake was I took her to a slope that was far too narrow.  Part way down she fell and started sliding down the hill on her back.  As she was gaining speed on her slide, and fast approaching me, I was barely able to get out of the way as she whizzed past.  I was thinking, “I could try to stop her, but why should we both get hurt!  She could have struck me, and I could have been harmed.  Besides, as she windmilled by me she was shaking her fist at me.  I was just trying to be nice, helping her learn to ski.
Sometimes Kate is a “caution” (that is another southern term meaning “mercy, mercy, I do declare”).  However, when it comes to her, this old southern cracker got lucky!  All I will say about Kate being my life companion is…….Yee Haw!
Whether school days or adulthood, the fun of good friends teasing each other is part of the joy of relationships with people you really care about.  When you are lucky enough to find those people you are blessed indeed.  Back to the young years, I guess other folks can tell similar stories of the early and high school times, but I like to think ours were special.  Actually, I hope everyone feels that their growing up and high school years were special too.  Basically on the inside we are all very much the same, and are connected no matter where we come from.  As for me, when I think back on those years, I always smile.

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