I love Phil, but of course; it is frowned on, by many; for a man to say that about another, so I will just say; I deeply admire and appreciate my good friend Phil Ashcraft. We differ in many ways and are alike in others.
First of all, Phil will eat anything, and I mean anything; not necessarily in large quantities, but he is the ultimate omnivore. I know because I have visited places with him where vendors sell food and he is drawn to the most exotic meats, cheeses, savory concoctions or sweet confections. I, on the other hand, do not eat meat nor anything with lots of fat; and I have even recently started curtailing my salt intake. From that, you might conclude Phil and I would not hit it off; but you would be wrong. In the words of my immortal late baseball coach, Charles Duncil: “Phil, whatever turns you on just tickles me to death.”
Another difference between us is that Phil drives the speed limit and I, well let’s just say I am a little like Sammy Haggar when it comes to speed limits. If I drove the speed Phil drives, I would still be back in New Jersey (where we lived in 1985). Yet, when I have ridden with him driving, it has relaxed me if anything; and it certainly has not frustrated me. Go figure. As Coach Duncil answered when I asked him in the hallway one day what he was up to: “Just riding around, hop in.”
I mention coach Duncil in a piece about Phil, because they are no doubt alike in that young people look up to them and can remember things they said years later. I wonder how many of the thousands of young people who have sat in his classes, who are now grown; could quote you some “Mr. Ashcraft”.
Another difference between Phil and me, is that Phil knows more about movies and TV from this past year than I know about movies and TV from all of history. You would think we would have little or nothing to talk about, since if he starts talking Star Wars or Gunsmoke or some of the more recent shows; I am pretty much relegated to nodding and listening. But such is not the case, because there is always Kentucky basketball, the Cincinnati Reds and all the good times we have had together over the years.
There are some ways in which Phil and I are quite alike, however. For example, he has kissed my wife; actually, even before I did (I would assume so, since they dated before we married and who dates without kissing?) So, that’s one person we have both kissed. I am not aware of another. On this matter of us having my wife as a friend in common, I went to him in his dorm room late one night and asked if I could take Tanga, my wife, out for a date; knowing he and she were dating off and on at the time. He said he was fine with it. So, he did not exactly make us a match but he didn’t stand in the way of it either.
Phil and I first saw Niagara Falls, the old Cleveland baseball stadium, lake Erie, Cedar Point and the Blue hole; together, and I ate my first Chinese food with him; way back in 1979 or 80. I can still remember the shrimp Rangoon. We ordered family style in St. Louis where we also went up in the arch and visited Six Flags over mid-America, and where he loaned me forty dollars; which to my knowledge, I never repaid.
Phil is a far better swimmer than me, has a much better memory for facts than I do, and takes a charge better (not electricity, basketball). We should all be thankful he never discovered body building, since his physique is naturally reminiscent of a car from the year he was born, 1955. I wrecked one of those cars when I was ten years old, so I can be trusted when I say his shoulders are like the front quarter panels on a 1955 Olds Super 88.
Phil read and collected comic books as a boy, a collection so large he financed a few family vacations decades later by selling them in large batches. His love of reading and acquiring knowledge led him to study and teach middle-school history and the other social studies. He still reads voraciously and remembers most of it, giving him something of the aura of a sage when you talk to him. This love of knowledge has been passed to the next generation in his two sons and countless other young people from Ripley, Ohio.
Comic book super heroes fly, stretch, flame or scale buildings with webs; but although he can do none of those things; Phil is one of hundreds of unheralded teachers of this nation’s children who inspire, inform and encourage our young people without recognition or pay commensurate with the value they add to our society. In a just world, Phil could have inked a large signing bonus out of college and a few years later declared himself a free agent with schools bidding for his services all over the land; with the winner paying him what, in unjust reality; only athletes and movie stars get.
He grew up without his biological father, who was killed in a helicopter crash before Phil was even in school; but he was heavily influenced by his mother, Blanche; who was as devoutly religious as my father.
In my fantasy they know each other in the afterlife and are able to make the connection their sons are friends.
Paul McCullough – It’s a beautiful day the lord has made isn’t it mam?
Blanche Parsons – It sure is. I don’t believe I know you.
Paul – I am Paul McCullough, formerly of Beattyville, Kentucky.
Blanche – I am from Kentucky too, a little town called Falmouth.
Paul – My son Mike married a girl from that town.
Blanche – Oh yea, what was her name.
Paul – Tanga Turner.
Blanche – That was one of Phil’s good friends in high school.
Paul – Then I bet they know each other.
Blanche – Maybe, but I never heard Phil say anything about a friend named Mike.
Paul – I believe I have heard Mike mention Phil. By the way, if you are not doing anything later this evening why don’t you come to our prayer meeting?
Blanche – You mean you are still having church even here in heaven?
Paul – Oh sure, I would rather burn out for Jesus than rust out for the devil.
Blanche – Amen brother. I’ll try to be there. I can tell I would like the way you preach. I will bring you an application for membership into a group I started called: Former saints of the commonwealth for the advancement of the kingdom.
From one son of a Kentucky saint to another, Happy Birthday my good friend Phil.
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