And, yes, my name really is "Buck". Last name is "Wheat".
My parents purposely gave me the middle name of "Buckner" so that I could be "Buck Wheat".
I never really recall being teased about it.
Still, whenever I go home, I'm "Buck" to everyone who knows me.
And "Uncle Buck" to my nieces and nephews.
Recently, my Aunt Dixie emailed me and asked if I had some family photos on hand.
This one in particular: It's the only one of all four of us grandchildren with our paternal grandfather, Poppy. I do remember him offering me Life Savers assorted candies from a roll. I kept wanting him to get to the white one (pineapple) because it was the most unique. That's the only memory I have about Poppy. I do remember his funeral and my Aunt Dixie holding me by the hand and pointing out a purple flower to me. Here I am with my younger brother, cousins and Poppy on the family ranch.
Circa 1963.
I'm thinking, "Why did my parents give me such a horrible burr cut?"
With our paternal grandmother, probably 1965 or 1966. She was an incredible musician and was my first piano teacher.
She left Texas upon graduating from college back in the late 20s, -- almost got dis-owned by my Big Daddy and Big Mama -- hopped a train to San Francisco, then a steamer to China, to teach English and music to missionary children for several years. -- Didn't come back to Texas and start a family until she was almost thirty years old. This was probably the Summer of '69.
The little one in the diapers was the youngest of our generation. Her name is Jaci, but we tried pinning the nickname of "Mini" on her.
For just a short while, she was "Mini Wheat".
The name never stuck.
Since this was the Summer of '69, I had probably just watched the Apollo moon landing. I could definitely sing every note of Simon & Garfunkel's "Mrs. Robinson" when this photo was taken, including the harmonies. (I'm the pensive little guy in the green shirt.)
So, that's the childhood saga of little "Buck Wheat".
. . . It's a little secret, just the Robinsons' affair;
Most of all, you get to hide it from the kids . . ..
Dude, you are pensive-looking in all old pictures--why is that? :) :)
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