Memory Flogger
When I was a kid in Canton:
I played kick the can in the street until the street lights came on, then it was time to go in. Dinner would be ready and a bath followed; then I could play around the front porch until bedtime.
Usually that meant everyone would gather on the front porch. Some would sit on the swing; usually Grandpap and me. Grandma and Mom each had their own rocking chairs. Aunts, Uncles and cousins would be on banisters, railings and steps, when they came over. Mom would play the ukulele and we'd all sing and rock. Dad was in the Army and I didn't get to see him until he got hurt and came home from over seas, so Granpap, Tom Sr. was a fill in and so were my 4 Uncles: Tom, Jim, George and Robert. Each of these men were characters in their own right.
Uncle Tom, a featherweight pro-boxer, was tall, dark, handsome, and just a little silly at times. Once I offered him some Bazooka bubblegum. It came in a red, white and blue waxed paper package that was long, like a cigar: and had markings where you could bite off a hunk. When you were all finished with the gum there was a comic on the inside wrapper. I especially loved these; because, "I wasn't permitted to rot my brain out reading comic books"; somehow they overlooked Bazooka Joe comics in the gum.
Anyway, Uncle Tom asked for a piece to try when he saw me blow a great big bubble. Once he caught on, we were going to see who could blow the biggest bubble. We chewed and chewed until all the sugar was out of the double-the-normal wad sized gum we each took. Finally, we started blowing. I got mine the size of my head and it was getting reeeeeeaaaaally thin. But, I kept blowing ever so carefully. I could see Uncle Tom through the gum. His bubble was a match to mine. Now the contest turned into who's is going to pop first?
It was difficult to keep from giggling after so long holding our heads back. Our mouths were coaxing every last piece of available gum to join the beach ball sized bubbles. Neither of us was going to give in; our honor was at stake. "A Pox on Quitters!"
"Puff!" A hole appeared in mine and the giant sticky ball deflated covering my entire face and hairline. When I blinked the gum stretched and relaxed; stretched and relaxed.
On one of my blinks I was able to see Uncle Tom's bubble had burst as well and engulfed his face: bushy eyebrows, handlebar mustache and in raven black hair as well. Ha! Ha! Ha!
We laughed and plucked at that mess for hours. We used ice cubes, baby oil and even soap and water; nothing worked completely. Even the old stand-by, of using the gum to clean off the gum, didn't work.
Finally! Uncle Tom came out of the bathroom surprising us all. He had shaved off his eyebrows and half his mustache. My sides hurt so badly from laughing I could hardly stop. We enjoyed the sight every time we saw Uncle Tom every day until the hair grew back.
He never challenged me again. To my knowledge, he never chewed gum again; so I guess you could say, "I won!"
I played kick the can in the street until the street lights came on, then it was time to go in. Dinner would be ready and a bath followed; then I could play around the front porch until bedtime.
Usually that meant everyone would gather on the front porch. Some would sit on the swing; usually Grandpap and me. Grandma and Mom each had their own rocking chairs. Aunts, Uncles and cousins would be on banisters, railings and steps, when they came over. Mom would play the ukulele and we'd all sing and rock. Dad was in the Army and I didn't get to see him until he got hurt and came home from over seas, so Granpap, Tom Sr. was a fill in and so were my 4 Uncles: Tom, Jim, George and Robert. Each of these men were characters in their own right.
Uncle Tom, a featherweight pro-boxer, was tall, dark, handsome, and just a little silly at times. Once I offered him some Bazooka bubblegum. It came in a red, white and blue waxed paper package that was long, like a cigar: and had markings where you could bite off a hunk. When you were all finished with the gum there was a comic on the inside wrapper. I especially loved these; because, "I wasn't permitted to rot my brain out reading comic books"; somehow they overlooked Bazooka Joe comics in the gum.
Anyway, Uncle Tom asked for a piece to try when he saw me blow a great big bubble. Once he caught on, we were going to see who could blow the biggest bubble. We chewed and chewed until all the sugar was out of the double-the-normal wad sized gum we each took. Finally, we started blowing. I got mine the size of my head and it was getting reeeeeeaaaaally thin. But, I kept blowing ever so carefully. I could see Uncle Tom through the gum. His bubble was a match to mine. Now the contest turned into who's is going to pop first?
It was difficult to keep from giggling after so long holding our heads back. Our mouths were coaxing every last piece of available gum to join the beach ball sized bubbles. Neither of us was going to give in; our honor was at stake. "A Pox on Quitters!"
"Puff!" A hole appeared in mine and the giant sticky ball deflated covering my entire face and hairline. When I blinked the gum stretched and relaxed; stretched and relaxed.
On one of my blinks I was able to see Uncle Tom's bubble had burst as well and engulfed his face: bushy eyebrows, handlebar mustache and in raven black hair as well. Ha! Ha! Ha!
We laughed and plucked at that mess for hours. We used ice cubes, baby oil and even soap and water; nothing worked completely. Even the old stand-by, of using the gum to clean off the gum, didn't work.
Finally! Uncle Tom came out of the bathroom surprising us all. He had shaved off his eyebrows and half his mustache. My sides hurt so badly from laughing I could hardly stop. We enjoyed the sight every time we saw Uncle Tom every day until the hair grew back.
He never challenged me again. To my knowledge, he never chewed gum again; so I guess you could say, "I won!"
posted by Jan myrz @ 9:40 PM
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