Noon Exchange Club of Garland

JIM BOB’S HIGHLIGHTS

Hello Exchange Heads!  Yep, it’s me Jim Bob, back after a little bit of R&R out in Forney, Texas in my doublewide.  I decided to write this little article after some prompting by the High Sheriff’s of the Noon Exchange Club who were complaining that subscriptions to the Nooner Special Communiqué were dwindling.  Of course the reason that that has happened is that the Nooner has not been published in regular intervals for some time.  It’s probably some communist plot to ensure that my articles wouldn’t get published even if I was still writing them.  It just ain’t like the good old days when we had the most dynamic service club in North America.  So with this in mind I would like to take this opportunity to reminisce on days of yore.

I remember old exchange members like Bob Archibald--a steadfast women’s rights activist, Bucky Brown--our local drug dealer, David Culwell--he was always Quick-to-Fix for our banquets, Bob George and Ron Holifield--they were always good for a dollar on Wednesdays, Rev. Richard Plunk--a former head prayersman, Kyle Webb--who only showed up once a year and that was to take kids to camp, and Neal Holford--the guy that knew everyone’s address but couldn’t tell you how to get there.

I remember the time when the Nooner was the subject of much debate ‘cause someone felt that the term “Nooner” threw off negative connotations.  I also remember that Herb (you remember my sidekick Herb don’t you)? and I had a twenty minute discussion on the true meaning of the word “connotation” before we realized that a problem was brewing.  Things like that never happened before we let bimb--I mean women, in.  Yeah, those were the days back then.  Exchange lunches were more of a burp and belch than a social event.  But me and Herb are sure glad we did let them women in, ‘cause now we have someone to sit next to that smells good!

I remember the Belly Ruben Avelar article that appeared right here in this publication that was misinterpreted as a political message when it actually was only an attempt to save good old boys from undue harassment.

I remember when Bill Holmes used to suck craw-dad heads in the middle of our induction banquets and Joe Cooper referred to everyone as Dr.

I remember when Tom Cooper dropped Ancelyn Smith’s induction pen down her blouse during the ceremony and actually tried to retrieve it.  That Tom, he is a man with guts.

I remember when Brian Bosworth, the Oklahoma football star, started cutting his hair like Dale Yarbrough.  That was the same year that we experienced a guest speaker named Ironbelly, the flying trampoline lady.  And to think, ol’ David Wright drove all the way back to Garland from Las Colinas for that one.  He’s still griping.

I remember those civic projects like painting the New Beginning Center and erecting those flag poles at EHCC and Jerry DePharaoh’s house.

I remember when DePharoah wrote those dang articles when he was president that no one really understood.  At least they gave me ammunition for my next article.

I remember when Jim Spore joined the club when he became the new city manager and he was still excited about the city of Garland.

I remember when Ron Holifield joined the club when he replaced Jim Spore and he was excited about having concerts in the forest.

I remember the first time I met Grandma Lewis and how surprised I was to learn that Jim and Ron were temporarily staying with her.

I remember the time that James Miller was president but DePharaoh was still in charge.

I remember when I interviewed some of the original Exchange Club members in hopes of finding the true meanin’ of Exchange.  I asked Joe C. why in the world would he want to start a Noon Exchange Club in the first place--”’Cause my wife won’t let me out at night and I’m too lazy to get up early in the mornings” was his reply.  I understood that, but “Why start an Exchange Club” I asked again.  “Well, me and my relatives need something to do since we are too old for Scouting."  I asked DePharoah what motorvated him to join the club and he said “I really needed to fill all that empty space on my trophy shelves and my wife was after me to get a big red sport coat anyway."

I remember when Dennis Stueker-whatever played smackey mouth with Debbie H. at the Christmas party.

I remember when Scott L. left the club speechless with one of his emotionally draining opening prayers prior to one of our regular lunch meetings.

I remember when Russell H. dated 20 year old girls named Bambi and Sugar and how surprised he was to learn that Joe D. had dated them first.

I remember the club meeting where the membership voted down pursuing Bingo as a possible fund raiser due to its connections with gambling.  This was done on the bus on the way home from Lousiana Downs.

You know looking back on the past like this is good in several ways.  Let me list them for you:

Numero Uno:  It gives me a chance to poke fun at those who deserve it, (or those I just want to)!

Numero Two-oh:  It lets the newer members of the club experience the glory of the days gone by.

Numero Three-oh:  It reminds us of how much fun it was to be involved.  (Do something interesting and I‘ll immortalize you forever.)

Numero Four-oh:  It reminds us that we need to renew our commitment to serving the community before DePharaoh starts writing those dang articles again.

Looking back I see that we had a lot of fun.  Let’s keep it up.