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"The Wondering Jew"

2000-04-23 - 22:38:30

April 23, 2000

Current Events

Every year the reunion of close family members has fewer attendees. Some of us die off, some of us are tied to our homes because of illness or handicaps and some of us no longer seem to care.

This old crock enjoys them to the utmost. The people who I held as babies and handed to their mothers when they got drippy and / or stinky, who I watched grow into thinking, intellegent individuals. All are now grown, and have kids of their own for me to hold, and cuddle.

The people I saw cope with the terrible troubles attendant to growing up, especially the traumatic era of their teen age, are now well adjusted, responsible people. You know the ones who were afraid of grown people when three of four years old and resentful of grown folks when they are in their teens. The ones we were wondering how on earth they could ever be the type to grow up. They did manage to do it mostly on their own, with a little help from their parents.

Some of us older poops have had to do a bit of attitude adjustment to calm us enough to see that these kids are swell people. It is so nice to sit and talk, hearing the younger ones recount the events we saw as grown people as seen through their eyes when young.

The talk will turn to past times, "the ago's" events at different family get togethers and picnics. Much laughter and good humor about these ridiculous, usually overdrawn tales.

My oldest, the third (poor guy), usually tells about the time I took our Boy Scout troop camping, and how the first night things went well with even the kids new to camping going to sleep peacefully. Comes the dawn, the formalities of rising, washing, preparing breakfast and eating it all went beautifully.

The Scoutmaster's Camping lesson was to be centered on the safe use of the knife. With a demonstration of the right way to use a Scout knife. The boys had been reading in their manuals, and I had been over the road many times, having used jack knives and various other sharp-edged tools on various jobs I had worked. I had also refreshed my memory on how things were stated in their manuals so that the demonstration would go in a linear manner

Hup ! demo begins, "now boys, this how you safely open your knife, always cut away from your self. I will show on this Palmetto frond how to cut one off." I have no explanation or excuse except the sudden loss of brain power for what happened. I whacked off the frond and down to the bone on my left index finger. Whoops, Mr. Scoutmaster keeping his dignity, calm and still in a teaching mode, said, "O.K. guys, this is how not to use a knife, you have to pay attention to what you doing always." All the while trying to muffle the profusely bleeding finger. The older boys in the troop were practically rolling on the ground laughing. That event was a feature of many skits the boys put on at various time, each time I became more of a cartoon character than before.

My wife drove up with a load of ice cold soda for us about that time and trying to keep it cool so she wouldn't come unglued, " I said, "Say hon, would you have a clean towel, washrag or cloth in the car ?" She threw me an old soft towel and said, "What is that for ?" I told her, "we have to make a quick trip into town just as soon as I put my second in charge for a while, this is sort of an emergency and I will tell you about it on the way to town.

As we stopped and waited to enter the highway, I opened the towel a bit and said I think I need to get a stitch or two, it just isn't a big deal.

A trip to the local hospital, four stitches and a tetanus booster and we headed back to camp. On my arrival back there I had the patrol leader quiz the kids on knife safety and point to me as the baddest example in the world. We spent another night out there with the boys being as helpful to me as they could, teasing me all the while. The third has developed a hilarious script of his own that leaves us all laughing.

From there on the schedule is set for that time and one younger person will tell the story about his dad or uncle and a particularly comical episode. To be followed by another, and another. Finally, we older folks will tell funnies on the younger ones, receiving the retort, "Aw, I didn't do that, did I ? Then the women take over and whip it on us about things we thought they didn"t know about.

Eventually as the visit nears it's end the talk becomes fondly reminiscent of times past and how things were when we were younger. My feeble old group has quite a few of the young people listening about how things were as we grew up. It usually ends by one or another of us old guys telling a long, sad story of struggling to school five miles through hip deep snow drifts, carrying our pitiful little sack of pancake and lard sandwiches, to be whipped by the mean school teacher for tracking snow into the classroom. It grows from there until one or another of us just can't hold it in any longer and begins the big Haw-Haw and the younger ones realize they have again been sold the Brooklyn Bridge.

Things mellow out and taper off to the, "well, I guess we better get going, tomorrow's another day." And the gathering begins to break up with little groups standing and talking until someone's knees grow weak or creaky and the departure is made. To joyfully be done the next chance we have.

It was a superfine, dandy day. I don't know exactly why, but I am tired and sleepy, and so to bed.

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