June 14, 2006
Dear Everyone:
I don’t know if anyone else noticed, but today was Flag Day.
When we were little, bitty kids, Flag Day was a big deal. Before leaving for work, Dad would put up the American flag. After dinner, before dark, of course, he would take the flag down and carefully pack it away until next time.
We kids would always ask, “When will we put the flag up again, Daddy?” And he would always reply, “On your Mother’s birthday.”
And, sure enough, we would put the flag up again on Mother’s birthday. In fact, everyone would put their flags up on Mother’s birthday. And unlike other people’s birthdays, we would also watch fireworks and play with sparklers on Mother’s birthday. Because, for anyone who doesn’t already know, Mother’s birthday is on July Fourth, as in Independence Day.
And who could forget that memorable Fourth of July when our brother “Byron” decided to teach his younger siblings the proper way to make a Molotov Cocktail? His first question was: “Where are the parents?”
Our answer: “Gone. It must be some grownup thing because they took 'Frankie' with them.” In fact, as near as we could tell, there were no parents anywhere in the general neighborhood.
So “Byron” demonstrated how to siphon gasoline out of the lawnmower into a glass soft drink bottle. (All the soft drink bottles were glass in those day.) Then stuff a rag into the bottle’s neck and hold the bottle upside down until the rag absorbed some of the gas.
We were very responsible little hooligans, so we made sure we had the garden hose turned on and ready, just in case. “Byron” lit the rag and threw the bottle at one of the bigger boulders at the foot of the backyard. It made a really great fire. The boulder burned merrily until it occurred to us that someone might see it and call the fire department. So we turned the water on and drowned the fire out.
After that, the boulder had a big crack down its middle. Every once in a while, Dad would look at the rock and wonder, “How’d that crack get there?”
To which we always responded: “Gee, Dad, we don’t know.”
It was one of the very few times that we got away with something. As far as we know.
In other news…
“Jeannie” came down last weekend and helped me shop for next week’s ARMA Silent Auction. We picked up some nifty things that I think people will like. I might even bid on some of them myself. Also, this means that next week’s Letter will either be early (Tuesday) or late (Thursday) because Wednesday is ARMA Night.
Love, as always,
Pete
| Previous | Next |