When I was a kid there were a stream of men that came to our door, they were always called by the job then MAN.
You see age makes me wonder
where did they go
all those men
that came to our door
like The Rent man,
the Gas Man,
the Electric man,
and there's more that knocked at our door.
Well like the Coal man,
the Milkman,
alright alright he is still around
as is the Postman
and the Dustman,
my Mum had the Club man,
sometimes the Insurance man,
then we had this fella
who emptied a box on the telly
he was the TV man.
Makes you wonder where did they go
all these men knocking at our door,
though some shouted out
as they went past
like the Rag and Bone man
never took bones though,
there was a Fish man
something fishy about that
Mum used to buy his left overs
for the Cat.
Occasionally we would see a Taxi man
but down our council street
that was a blue moon.
That's just a few
of all these men
that knocked at our door when I was a kid,
memories of a time long ago
no longer around
hold on a minute
do I hear THE ICE CREAM MAN.
A wonderful trip down memory lane. The postman still cometh, with a heavy package, he rings twice. In the day you speak of, the tramp also came to the door. If you fed him and gave him a little spending money before sending him on his way, he would mark the curb outside indicating that you were, "an easy mark," for other tramps to follow.
A new kind of man is coming. The con man. He will knock on your door with a likely story and maybe even a uniform. Once inside the house, he will either, rob you blind, most often with an accomplice, or more slowly, gain your confidence in the way that he can put his sleazy paws on some of your money, one way or another either through shoddy or unfinished work, investment schemes, or downright confiscation through subterfuge.
That's why it's become wise to beware the man at the door.
Jamie was a healthy, active 12-year old who loved to skate and played hockey as well as any boy. Then one afternoon during a game, she suffered a stroke that changed her world. Her memoir takes the reader through her ordeal and her journey out of the
(Richard M. Feldman) Ever since I was a young boy, the only thing I wanted to be was a cowboy. I wanted to own and work on a real ranch, with cattle and horses. Especially horses.
While I never became a cowboy, considering everything I have done
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A new kind of man is coming. The con man. He will knock on your door with a likely story and maybe even a uniform. Once inside the house, he will either, rob you blind, most often with an accomplice, or more slowly, gain your confidence in the way that he can put his sleazy paws on some of your money, one way or another either through shoddy or unfinished work, investment schemes, or downright confiscation through subterfuge.
That's why it's become wise to beware the man at the door.
Ron