NNAOPP
May 2014
C- Grandfathering
A few weeks ago Lucy asked if I
would be interested in accompanying 5-year old Waverly and her pre-K classmates
to an event at Royal's stadium. I
quickly accepted the welcomed task.
There would be a morning educational weather program at the stadium
followed by an afternoon game against the Rockies. Lucky me, thought I.
Here are two different versions
of what transpired. First, from my
vantage:
At the appointed hour, I picked
up Waverly, and we drove to the stadium.
It was a chilly blustery morning, but we were dressed for the
occasion. We chatted amiably on
the drive, and arrived to see hundreds of busloads of children from all over
the metro area. We walked into the
lower level and began searching for our group. Finding no one, and since it was open seating, we sat two
rows behind the visitor's dugout.
We snuggled under a blanket and watched four skillful skydivers land gracefully
in the outfield grass. We doffed
our hats, held our hands over our hearts, and sang the national anthem. We were well situated when a local
weatherman started the program.
Then I received a text from the
Mom of a classmate telling us where to rendezvous with the remainder of the
class. We relocated, and that was
problematic. Waverly does not like
loud noises and crowds, both conditions now being prominent once removed from
our preferred seating. She
whimpered as we were greeted by one of the pre-school teachers. She comforted Waverly and said,
"You can sit in my lap if you like."
Waverly said, "I just want
to go with Papa." And we
left.
Walking out of the stadium I
encountered a disheveled man who said, "Got any extra tickets?" I said, "sure," and gave him
our two soon-to-be-unused ones.
Then Waverly and I went on to
spend some quality time, breakfasting on waffles, going to the grocery store,
having a tea party, reading stories, picking flowers in the backyard, and
taking a big hike.
I returned her to the bosom of
her mother around 3 in the afternoon, and felt pretty darn good about a day
well spent.
I called Lucy the next day to
check on Charlie's earache and learned of a differing view of our time
together:
"What did Waverly have for
lunch yesterday?"
Her censorious tone made it
perfectly clear she already knew the answer, thus rendering prevarication worse
than useless. So I replied
truthfully, "If memory serves
me, I believe she had a donut with chocolate icing and multi-colored
sprinkles. I know she prefers
vanilla icing, but none were to be found.
What can you do? Why do you
ask two dogs?"
The response was an exasperated
sigh followed by a micro-lecture on the importance of a healthy diet.
"Why did you leave the
stadium so early?"
I explained how the crowd and the
amplified environs upset the little tyke.
"Dad, she just played
you. That was a school day
activity. You don't just abandon
ship because she manipulates you.
We paid good money for those tickets, what did you do with them?"
And I told her.
Even more exasperation,
"Great, you enabled a homeless bum to sit in the midst of a group of pre-K
kids. The other Moms will be
so pleased."
"I'm certain he was a
scalper, and he was going to sell the tickets, surely to some fine
citizens."
Ever the teacher, she said,
"You get a C- for the day's grandparenting."
Ouch.
*****
I was apparently forgiven for
these shortcomings, and a few days later I was once again entrusted with the
care of Waverly. We were walking
back to our house from a nearby playground. We crossed a creek, walked up a steep sidewalk through a
tiny forest, and encountered a very lightly traveled side street. Waverly was holding my hand and said,
"Papa, you're kind of old, and I'm kind of young, so I'm going to help you
cross the street!" And she
did.
*****
In late April we attended a small
family gathering in Carlsbad, CA.
My cousin, and our host, is a retired Marine Corps Clonel and was
formerly a fighter pilot with 300+ carrier landings (60% at night) to his
credit and a Topgun instructor. He
served as our private docent when we took a tour of the decomissioned aircraft
carrier USS Midway located in San Diego harbor. He shared the following tidbit that I found amusing,
"Every pilot on a carrier receives a grade for each landing. There are five possible
ratings. The highest and best is
'OK'. The fifth and worst is NAFOD
(no apparent fear of death).
Receipt of the latter shortens ones' flying career, one way or
another."
*****
I sent a copy of last month's NNAOPP update to the banjo maker who
graciously spent the day with me.
I had earlier mailed him a copy of my book along with a thank you note
and received the following in reply:
I finished
your book shortly after receiving it.
It was very well written, entertaining, and very informative to someone
like myself who has never had the desire or courage to travel as you have done.
I seldom know
the background of the many visitors who stop by the shop, so I try to keep my
approach to them as simple and common as possible. Had I not read your book I
would never suspected the degree to which you have accomplished so many things.
One correction
is in order. My advanced schooling
was in electronic engineering.
When you
travel through Tennessee again, please stop, and we might talk about some of my
favorite characters that have graced the world stage, such as Warren Buffet,
Armand, Hammer, and Will Rogers.
*****
Sales of NNAOPP continue to
trickle in, now eclipsing 1,308 copies.
At the current pace I should reach the 1,500 level well before my 100th
birthday.
Chuck
