Amusing Anecdotes by Glenn Mosley

PLUNDERING NATIONAL HISTORIC SITES ...a Mosley Tradition

Grandson David and I spent about 4 hrs. today visiting the Mill Springs, Ky. Civil War Battlefield area .


 We were fortunate in that we arrived just as a tour bus was departing the visitors center, leaving the place almost deserted. We ended up with a private tour of the museum. The tour guide told us that in 1999 (I think) they had allowed some professional metal detector guys to come in and scour the battle area. They got lots of "hits" with their detectors but were not allowed to dig. The "hits" were marked and a dig will be done at a later date. The most exciting thing to David and Me was this old musket on display that the guy showed us. The rifle had the firing mechanism missing and had been found under a rock ledge during the search with the metal detectors. He told us of the speculation that the firing mech. may have been hit by a shot from the opposing side and blasted away from the rifle and had (maybe) wounded the soldier carrying it, who had (perhaps) crawled under the rock ledge and died from his wounds. At any rate that old rifle had been under that rock ledge for around 137 years while (maybe) the unfortunate soldier's body returned to dust.
David and I spent most of the trip home talking about the old gun and how, being metal detector guys ourselves, it would be so cool to find something like that. By the time we got to Manchester, David had figured out that we needed to get a new set of batteries for the detector and the pin-pointer. We could then "get Mom or Nanny to take us back over there on a moonlight night so we wouldn't have to use flashlights and let us out of the car near the rock ledges and come back and get us before day break".


I'm so proud of my Grandson. His mind works a lot like mine.

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What the Old Boys talk about 

I've been asked by a coupla' folks what the Old Men who sit on the benches in front of the courthouse of an evening talk about and thought this would be a good time to address the subject.

We talk about things like Quantum Physics, Einstein's theory of General Relativity, whether a 1949 Hudson will shift smoother if you double-clutch it and whether or not a Possum will taste better if micro-waved, not simmered. We once had a pretty serious argument about the old music masters and whether Vivaldi's '"Four Seasons" was easier to understand than Earl Scrugg's written version of "Foggy Mountain Break Down" for five strang Banjer. We never could agree on that one but personally, Scrugg's composition looks more complicated to me.

We've talked about how friendly and respectful the younger generation seem to be, waving at us as they drive by, respectful of their elders....and how the older women used to never acknowledge us and stare straight ahead while concentrating on driving their big four door Tank like vehicles.

Coupla' months ago, one of the guys mentioned that he'd seen on the news that 'they' had developed a female version of Viagra. We've noticed lately that those 'Little Old Blue Haired Ladies in their Big Black Oldsmobiles' whose heads you can barely see above knuckles gripping steering wheels, have started blowing their horns, waving and seem to be distracted to the max when they notice us. (One of them ended up on the wrong side of the street and danged near hit the curb in front of Red Light Café   


before she got straightened out and back in her lane on 421, South bound.)

After much discussion, we have concluded, By the numbers;
1. "They" have released the new 'version' for Women.
2. Bench sitting has become a hazardous sport.
3. It's getting too cold to sit out on the street anyway.
4. We'll see you all next spring, or at least some of us will. (Hopefully)

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Being "Neighborly"

I spent my growing up years in Jason's Branch on Rock House Creek. Our neighbor, Willie Combs was an excellent gardener. He grew the worlds best water melons in the sandy soil along the creek bank and also keep a pretty good watch on his produce.

 I remember slithering into the patch once, snatching me a melon and crawling back to the shade of a big willow tree to enjoy the spoils of my foray. I took out my trusty knife and "plugged" the melon, only to discover that it was green. That's when my conscience started bothering me. I started thinking about things my Dad had told me, like, "If you give your word, stick to it, treat others as you want them to treat you and most important, don't ever take anything that isn't yours." I crawled back into the patch, put the melon back in as near the place where I'd found it as I could......and got me a ripe one.

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Stories:  Glenn Mosley

Edited and illustated:  Goliath

Note:  All proceeds from this post for the benefit of the Lou Diamond Phillips  Retirement fund.