“That’s my-Grandson!”---Don’t-laugh!...Not-funny!
Once-upon-a-time---
When our grandson was about 2-years old,
we took a trip to my home-town of Nashville, Tennessee to visit my
Uncle-Randell and his family. Now, Uncle-Randell was an all-American “Good”-guy
with a heart as big as all out-doors; extremely-generous and very-likable! Great!
Not unlike-me, he found humor in nearly every-situation;
perpetually laughed and teased.
So---Uncle-Randell and I take ward-Z. Tyler
grocery-shopping with-us; Z.T. is only “2”, adding the maturity-level of his
grandfather to that of Uncle-Randell and Z. has us beat by a mile!
Why? I will never know, but, the store
had a kid’s “Ride-the-horse” machine and next to it was a blood-pressure
machine for patrons to use to get a reading. Now, I never hunt “trouble” so it was extremely rare to sit down and put
my arm in a sleeve and let it capture me. But, I did!
As I am getting trussed-up by the
“grabber”-machine, Uncle-Randell hoists Z. Tyler on to this absolutely-wild buking-bronco and inserts a
quarter---and…off goes Z. on a “rodeo”-from-hell ride as I try in-vain to
reach-out to my little-Grandchild to save him from a terrible-fate.
As I lunge toward the wild-bronc, just
out-of-reach, the tether-band of the evil-machine
jerks me back into my seat; Uncle-Randell is bent over with laughter at the
hilarious sight! Funny!?
I don’t recall the blood-pressure
reading when all that was over---all I heard was…Bingo!
Thank-God! Z. T. is a “natural”-athlete;
he rode it-out, unscathed! Wish I could say the same!
Until my old-heart acted up some
20-years later, I avoided blood-pressure machine, doctors…
Another “Thank-God” is called for here.
Thank-God Uncle-Randell was separated from me by some 13-years chronologically
and by 3–states geographically! He is one of 5-people I have known who should never-run with the likes of me; wild as
they-are, I need-discipline, not encouragement. I’ll bet, if we had been contemporaries, I’d probably still have 5–7 to go!? Hmm!
And, while I am “Thanking”-the-Almighty
for His myriad-blessings---Cousin-Kenny Farrell yonder down South Carolina
Charleston-way…would have rounded out our Tennessee-Trio---and…that would have been throwing explosive-gasoline on an
already raging-conflagration!
Even today, 30-years later, everybody finds that story
so-“funny”---but…I still do not concur!
“Getty-up! Ole-Stormy! But, not too-wild!”
Amen!
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