(For decades, local historian and paranormal investigator
George “Buster” Singleton published a weekly newspaper column called “Somewhere
in Time.” The column below, which was titled “Waterbeds are just not Fonderoy
Fishue’s thing” was originally published in the Sept. 12, 1991 edition of The
Monroe Journal in Monroeville, Ala.)
This is a letter written by my friend, Fonderoy Fishue, to
his Cousin Slim about Augusta Jill, his wife, who used his timber money to
purchase a waterbed. It appears that something has gone wrong at the Fishue
home, or waterbeds are just not Fonderoy’s thing.
My Dear Cousin Slim,
I take pen in hand, really not knowing how to explain my
situation with my plump wife, Augusta Jill. As you know, I love that big woman
dearly, but there comes a time when one has to draw the line, and now is one of
them times.
As I told you earlier, there is nothing that I wouldn’t do
for my adorable wife, Augusta Jill. I don’t think that I have talked to you
since I sold the timber on the old home place.
Well, I did, and when I was paid for the timber, Augusta
Jill started then and there about us getting one of them new-fangled waterbeds.
She said that she had read where after sleeping on one of them waterbeds, a
person who would feel as much as 20 years younger. After the trouble that we
have had, I believe that it put an extra 20 years on my life.
Well, Cousin Slim, we took that timber money and got in our
pickup truck and headed to that store where them fancy beds are sold. I tried
all the way to the store to talk Augusta Jill out of that thing. But she wouldn’t
listen. She was determined that before another night had passed, she would have
slept on the water.
I even suggested that we just go back home and get my skiff
boat and go to the river. She could sleep in the skiff, and I could wrap up in
a quilt and lay down on the bank until morning.
Cousin Slim, that woman got mad. She hit me so hard on the
left shoulder until I could hardly drive my pickup into town.
When we got to the waterbed store, this funny-looking man
met us at the door. After talking to Augusta Jill, he just smiled a crazy-looking
smile and carried us all the way to the back of the store to show us one of
them waterbeds that was already set up and ready to be slept on.
I wasn’t about to get to bed right there in that store in the
broad open daylight and let everybody look at me laying there in my underwear.
And, I wasn’t about to go to bed with my clothes on, Cousin Slim. You know my
mamma taught us better than that.
After seeing that I wasn’t going to get on that funny
shaking bed, that funny-looking man told Augusta Jill to just kinda stretch out
on that bed for a minute. That big woman jumped right up in the middle of that
bed, Cousin Slim.
You would have thought she had jumped up on a sleeping bull
yearling. All that water started to slosh around in that big rubber-looking
balloon, and Augusta Jill was almost slung off that waterbed thing.
I saw right then that we didn’t need that thing, but that
big woman of mine told me in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t going back home
with me unless I bought the contraption.
I knew that I couldn’t leave her there, remembering them
wedding vows and things that I swore to when we got married. But, Cousin Slim,
I was almost tempted.
I sure hated to pay my good money for that thing. After
counting out almost all my much-needed timber money to that funny-looking man,
he said that he would deliver it to our house and set it up, I was glad,
because I told him that I wasn’t too good when it came to reading instructions.
He said he wanted to get out and see our part of the country.
Well, he was true to his word, Cousin Slim. He and another
fellow set that funny bed up in no time flat. The only work that I did was to
hand him the water hose through the bedroom window and turn the water on when
he hollered.
I’ll bet my water bill is going to b $50 this month. Since
we got on this rural community water system, it costs like heck to pay for just
the water Augusta Jill uses just to take a bath. I’ll be that big
bladder-looking thing held over 500 gallons.
Yesterday was the first day that I ever went to bed at 3
p.m. in the afternoon. But Augusta Jill insisted that we go to bed, just as
soon as that man and his helper left. I sure got a tongue-lashing from that big
woman when I started to bed with my life jacket on. You remember the one that I
carry fishing with me. She also told me that I wasn’t about to sleep in her new
waterbed with them rubber boots on.
Last night was the first time in my life that I was ever sea
sick. If someone had told me that I would get sea sick in my own bedroom, I
would have called them crazy. I’m sure glad that I didn’t ever join the Navy, Cousin
Slim. I would sure have been buried at sea. That sloshing water almost killed
me last night. I lost everything that I had eaten for the past three days. That
didn’t set to well either with Augusta Jill. I tried to walk to the kitchen
this morning. I couldn’t keep my feet on the floor. Augusta Jill’s sister,
Gussie Maude, said that was known as having sea legs.
Things don’t look too good right now, Cousin Slim. Gussie
Maude plans to spend the night with us. Says she can’t wait to sleep with us on
that waterbed thing. Might just slip out and sleep with Ole Blue (that’s my dog…
Ole Blue).
Yours truly,
Fonderoy Fishue
(Singleton, the author
of the 1991 book “Of Foxfire and Phantom Soldiers,” passed away at the age of
79 on July 19, 2007. A longtime
resident of Monroeville, he was born to Vincent William Singleton and Frances
Cornelia Faile Singleton, during a late-night thunderstorm, on Dec. 14, 1927 in
Marengo County, graduated from Sweet Water High School in 1946, served as a
U.S. Marine paratrooper in the Korean War, worked as a riverboat deckhand,
lived for a time among Apache Indians, moved to Monroe County on June 28, 1964
and served as the administrator of the Monroeville National Guard unit from
June 28, 1964 to Dec. 14, 1987. He was promoted from the enlisted ranks
to warrant officer in May 1972. For years, Singleton’s columns, titled “Monroe
County history – Did you know?” and “Somewhere in Time” appeared in The Monroe
Journal, and he wrote a lengthy series of articles about Monroe County that
appeared in Alabama Life magazine. It’s believed that his first column appeared
in the March 25, 1971 edition of The Monroe Journal. He is buried in Pineville
Cemetery in Monroeville. The column above and all of Singleton’s other columns
are available to the public through the microfilm records at the Monroe County
Public Library in Monroeville. Singleton’s columns are presented here each week
for research and scholarship purposes and as part of an effort to keep his work
and memory alive.)
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