Tuesday, December 20, 2005

Location: Christmas

Come on, stop crying.

It can tear your hart out when you realize you aren’t needed - He can manage on his own. This was not his world. He should be among his own kind. He had become increasingly independent and at times aggressive. He could feed himself. He foraged when he ventured into the night, away from the camper. His solo trips grew longer in duration. I didn’t know what to do. Leelee could make him laugh with a smooch on the cheek and a tickle. My ”Got your nose” earned only a look of disdain and he would not eat his favorite dinner - mashed potatoes and Snicker bars.

Go! . . . Go now; you can’t stay here, crap flinger!

300 pounds of tattooed flab scampered through the turn-style to The Two Headed Abominable Snow Goat. We set Freak Show Roy loose in the carnival, singing a teary-eyed “Born Free”.

Before that nasty late-afternoon scene, he hit me up for $50. He said his mission was to finish Christmas shopping and visit some friends. Tater and I set out on a reconnaissance mission of our own. We were on the trail of a classic set of wheels. I wasn't certain how this deal would work out. I hoped this could be a present for the whole gang, a project that we could all enjoy. Just in case, I did have a Plan B stashed in the back of the camper.

Miles clipped by and the carnival glow changed to houses festooned with holiday lights in the snowy crisp evening. The sky flushed with wisps of blue, green, yellow and red, probably reflection from the clouds. I did not like looking at the bike after dark but, if you're going to take advantage of a sweet deal like a 1972 Rupp Roadster you have to strike like a commando. We followed a creek across the bridge and turned into the first driveway. Our headlights panned the property revealing several motorcycles half-buried in a circular pattern in front of the house. We knocked on the door and encountered a shorthaired fellow with thick glasses. I apologized for showing up late and he took us to the garage, sans coat. I quizzed him about the yard art and he explained that he watched a program about Stone Hinge on the Discovery Channel and became a born again artist and Druid.

You have seen this guy before. He is the one who could drive to school during the second semester of the eighth grade. You know the guy who, after watching eight Bruce Lee movies, made his own “nunchucks” from two bits of broomstick and a short length of dog chain. Then he beat the crap out of himself learning home styled martial arts. Yeah, he had the Rupp for sale, but it wasn't exactly stock. He said, "Runned it out of oil and blowed it up. Don't worry though, she's better than new because he swapped engines with an old rode-e-tiller”. There is a fine line between genius and insanity. This guy's line must be drawn with peanut butter.

I wasn't concerned about a stock engine because I had plans to "pep it up" and after strategic barter we cut a deal. He told us a Shriner owned the Rupp. He said they would parade the bikes and keep them in their hotel rooms for safekeeping. I envisioned a bunch of booze happy revelers, in fez and boxer shorts, running the gauntlet and setting hallway speed records. It had the Shriner's crest on the rear fender and some paperwork. It looked legal.

As Tater and I drove back to town we noticed the sky still aglow. We arrived at the now dark carnival to find Freak Show struggling on an icy sidewalk. Try herding a giant, drunk, boneless chicken into a motor home while it screams 'Jingle Bells'. " I asked what happened to him and he broke into tears. He blubbered something about a bearded lady lap dance, winning at poker and Brittany Spears T-shirts for everybody. He lamented about 'Good will towards men' and going to the nudie bar instead of Christmas shopping. It was best to distract him but there was no way that he was going to understand the new purchase of the mighty Rupp. I had to implement ' Plan B '. I foraged through a few packages and presented Freak Show and Tater with brand new, crisp orange and blue KTM T-shirts. The looks on their faces would give anyone the 'Warm and Fuzzies'. Freak Show exclaimed, "We can be shirt buddy's just like I wanted! "

Later, the guy on the radio said that the glow in the sky was the Aurora Borealis, only to be seen in this part of the world about every 100 years. I watched the light show and reflected upon our purchase. I imagined the fun we would have. Tater sat quietly drawing on the frosty window. Freak Show, tucked away in his bunk, clutched his new T-shirt and between snores would mumble 'shirt buddy's'. . .


At 10:41 AM, Blogger josh williams said...

I cried when I read the shirt buddies part.Maybe you could talk to Len about his Rupp, I'm not sure which one he has but two heads are better than one, maybe.

At 12:08 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Johnny's Cussing Problem

Little Johnny had a cussing problem and his father was getting tired of
it. He decided to ask his shrink what to do. The shrink said, "Since
Christmas is coming up, you should ask Johnny what he wants Santa to
bring him. If he cusses while he tells you his wish list, leave a pile of
dog poop in place of the gift or gifts he requests."

Two days before Christmas, Johnny's father asked him what he wanted for

"I want a damn teddy-bear laying right beside me when I wake-up. When I
go downstairs I want to see a damn train going around the damn tree. And
when I go outside I want to see a damn bike leaning up against the damn

Christmas morning, Little Johnny woke up and rolled over into a pile of
dog poop. Confused, he walked down stairs and saw another pile under the
tree. Scratching his head, he walked outside and saw a huge pile of dog
poop by the garage.

When Johnny walked back inside with a curious look on his face, his dad
smiled and asked, "What did Santa bring you this year?"
Johnny replied,"I think I got a dog but I can't find the son-of-a-bitch!"

At 10:27 AM, Blogger Roscoe said...

That’s a good story…

At 1:55 PM, Blogger madman said...

LOL--Have a Merry Christmas!


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