Sour Pickles, Anvils, and Union Suits

By Ted Atoka

Ted Atoka writes about things that people have forgotten about, and he recalls the circumstances that made them so memorable. Some of these are fictional stories and some border on genuine authenticity. Reading this material may cause you to giggle, recall something you thought was forgotten, laugh out loud, and even say to yourself, “Well, I'll be.” The author hopes that his storytelling leaves you with a new zest for living and just a bit of magic in your heart.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Huntington House Press
• Release date: Sep 3, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386056683

Ted Atoka

Ted Atoka lived the first half of his life in Boston, MA. He made a Christmas visit to friends in Oklahoma in 1981, and fell in love with country life. Five weeks after returning home—to a raging snow storm, he packed up and moved to OK. He and his wife live on a piece of land on the side of a dirt road. They share the fresh air with a peacock named Penelope, two dogs, a small herd of deer, and a feral cat.

Book preview

Pickles

My lips get all twitchy when I think about just how sour a sour pickle is. They always react like that.

I grew up close to a major thoroughfare that funneled traffic toward the center of the city. Buses stopped, on my side of an intersection, in front of Carbone’s store. This was the go-to place for pedestrians to buy newspapers, fresh fruit, magazines, candy bars, cherry Cokes, ice cream sundaes, and other treats. Bus riders bounced down the steps of the vehicle, and most filed directly into the store. The odor of diesel fumes hung around the outside of the shop, and the smells of fresh apples, oranges, and bananas greeted you the minute you stepped through the door.

Mr. Carbone lined up small sacks of peanuts in the shell, in a gleaming brass and copper peanut steamer, just outside the entrance to the shop. When the temperature inside the contraption rose to a certain point, pressurized steam carried the yeasty aroma of hot peanuts through a shiny brass whistle. Everyone within earshot of the screeching whistle knew that the peanuts were ready, and most of them bought a sack.

I really liked the store