He ain’t heavy

Fule for Thought

 

An old saying goes something like this: “you can pick your friends, but you can’t pick your family.”  

There were many times growing up that I’m sure my brother would have wanted a “do-over” in picking out his kid brother. I am two years younger than him, and I made up for it by learning to be quick with a comment, and even quicker with my feet. I often tagged along with him and his pals, and I loved to tease them! Most of you know I can’t swim, and on one outing with my brother and his buds, my teasing of one of the bigger guys went sour. He literally grabbed me, and since we were on the edge of the Bow River … he held me over the current! Of course, I stopped the teasing, and upon release, ran far enough away to start another verbal attack. I think the day ended with a camp-out in our back yard. I’m not sure what I said then, but it was enough for my brother to drill me in the head with a “D” battery. Actually, the way he threw, I’m surprised he hit me between the eyes! Oops there I go again, with the sarcasm!

Growing up in Canmore, none of the Fules could swim. No, that’s not quite accurate, our dog Rusty could swim great. He was a border collie mix, and looked like a miniature “Lassie.”  

I tried everything, but Rusty always liked my brother Gary more than me. I would be bringing him food or treats, and then he’d bail on me as soon as my brother got home. Gary and I would build things with Lego often, and Rusty took a liking to these pieces. Now, if you’ve built with Lego before, you know there are different sized pieces, and you need certain ones to finish a project. It never failed, I would need a specific Red one, and Rusty would be chewing on it in front of me. The ONLY way I’d get a chance to see that piece again, was to wait a day. Sure enough, there on our back lawn would be a mangled, chewed Lego piece IN one of his droppings! No matter what you were building, or how long you’d have to wait for allowance money … it was not worth it to try and get back that piece!

My brother had an adventurous side … I did not. He now lives in Vancouver, and after selling his business, hopes to retire and have a large sail boat for the ocean. This must’ve been in his blood back in his Grade 4 year, because he and a pal had secretly been building a raft. On the last day of school for the summer, he left his report card on the table, swore me to secrecy, and went rafting with his friend. Now strangely, Gary’s rafting location was one of Canmore’s large sewer ponds! If you’ve never been near a sewer pond, it is absolutely the most strong, horrendous smell imaginable … you can almost TASTE it! My dad was home from the mine and asked where Gary was. Now in my version, I sweated out hours before I told Dad. In Gary’s (version), he feels I threw him “under the bus” in minutes! My dad as the typical, gentle, nurturing 1970s dad spanked ME for not telling him right away! Sniffling, I watched him lumber away in his 1948 F-150. I hoped it was loud enough for Gary to hear it coming … but no such luck. I do not know the particulars of my dad catching Gary rafting on the open sewer seas, but I do know he was back pretty fast. Again with the spank … only THIS time it was Gary! I had slunk away by now, being the accomplice to this major crime. When I did walk by, my brother was kneeling in his soccer shorts on popcorn seeds! Yes, my dad must’ve been reading some new parenting book (probably in Hungarian) … and he had come up with this ingenious punishment. Gary never rafted in the sewer lagoon again, and also did not confide in me much, either!

My brother and I shared a room as kids … big mistake. We fought often, and would then not talk to each other for long periods of time. One of our favorite games however, involved simple things. Nowadays, kids need gadgets, organized sports or activities … but not us 70’s kids, we MADE our toys (weapons). We had a great light, dead center in our room, and it hung by a rubber cord, so that it could be at different heights. It also swung really well, so we decided it would be a great addition to our pillow battles. The rule of the game was that you had to stand on your bed and fight, BUT we pulled the light down to forehead height and swung it hard. You’d have to battle with the pillow, not give up ground, all while ducking the swinging light! I did not have a strong sense of peripheral vision at this young age. The swinging light and NOT the pillow hit me RIGHT between the eyes! There seemed to be a bright glow on impact, I swear I heard bells, or was it angels singing? I don’t remember falling … but I did. There was a fairly large gash in my forehead, so luckily, having longer 70’s hair, I plastered it over the cut.  I had HEARD my dad spank Gary for rafting, SEEN the popcorn seeds … I did NOT want to live through what my dad had learned in Chapter 2 of his parenting book!