GRANDPA SANCHO MISSES DON ANDREW!

Now, be honest! How can I just go on and on about Don Andrew when I haven’t even seen him since August? It is difficult for this befuddled old laborer, squire as I am, to keep up this column of verbiage without new fodder with which to work.

You see, it gets to the point that all I have is memories and they are quite in the past. For example, on one occasion I picked this young knight up after school and we decided to go see the big bird. Now Fort Stockton has this big Road Runner, which I now find out is the second biggest Road Runner in the world. Once it was the biggest. My late friend Gene Cummings came up with the idea, originally.

Don Andrew and his faithful sidekick Sancho Grandpa got to the big bird just as a busload of tourists arrived. Now they all wanted to get their picture taken in front of the Road Runner. His name is Paisano Pete, which come to find out is a mistranslation of a Spanish word. That doesn’t matter anymore since it is only the second largest Road Runner in the world.

Don Andrew was a real trooper. He held cameras for the visitors and helped out in any way he could. He even had his picture made. But, our young knight’s mind was not on pictures. It wasn’t even on the Road Runner. You see, across the street there was a gigantic mud puddle. Guess where our young knight’s mind was focused. You guessed it: right on the mud puddle.

Don Andrew and Sancho Granpa threw everything in that mud puddle except the kitchen sink. It is amazing what will place a 3½ year old knight into the attack and fight mode. It is too far back for me to remember but there were bound to be dragons and perhaps even worse things in that mud puddle. By the time Don Andrew and his faithful sidekick Sancho Granpa were through there wasn’t much mud puddle left. It was full of rocks, sticks, and who knows—perhaps a kitchen sink.

Fond memories! They are many but just about all I have left. What’s wrong with that you might ask? Absolutely nothing! I would reply. This befuddled old laborer, squire to the great Don Andrew will take the memories and be proud of them. They are treasures stored in time. I have many more. Stay tuned.

P.S. If you think throwing rocks in a mud puddle is silly you might be suffering a little Fun Dementia. This disease can set in at any age. It hasn’t made the DSM-IV-TR yet but I plan to submit an article for The National Institute for Trauma and Loss in Children. If it is published I will send you a copy; if not, oh well!

NINA MOONS AND OTHER PHILOSOPHICAL ISSUES!

Sometimes Don Andrew and his faithful squire, Sancho Grandpa must enter the think tank mode. That’s when Grandpas and grandsons inter into a realm that involves long times of uninterrupted thought and conversation about the very deep meanings of life. I’m not sure anyone else could handle such depth of meaning and understanding.

On one of these evenings we were bouncing a huge ball back and forth. This is when the much younger knight has an opportunity to learn wisdom of the ages from this ancient old befuddled laborer.

Look Grandpa, a Nina Moon. Although everyone should know exactly what a Nina Moon is, I’m wondering just how many have complete and unique understanding. Do, you see, Don Andrew can say banana quite well and, most anything else that needs saying—sometimes even things that might not need saying. He doesn’t say Nina in front of the Duke and Duchess because that would be improper speech.

When Grandpas and Grandsons get together it’s a Nina Moon simply because that is all it has ever been, a Nina Moon. Our discussion immediately takes a deeper turn into the realm of the unknown. Grandpa, what do mosquitoes do? Of course, this befuddled old labor tried to give a very scientific answer befitting a 3½ old. Grandpa, do mosquitoes ever go to school?

Now, a question like that one is far beyond the understanding of this befuddled old laborer. That’s a real stumper. I really need clarification to answer that question. But, I don’t dare bother the young knight with trivial questions. He is too deeply entrenched in thought at the moment. Seriously, what is one to do? Does this young knight want to know if mosquitoes go to school to learn or is he inquiring whether or not he should be concerned about the mosquitoes either biting him or otherwise bothering him while he is at school? This question was too complex for this aging squire. But, young knights are capable of such questions.

This period of deep and thoughtful meditation, and sharing of great philosophical wisdom was interrupted by the dinner bell. There were of course even deeper issues to be discussed and solved that very evening but the ordinary person wouldn’t understand—not to say you are ordinary in any other sense than to say you are a normal person. You would fully understand only if you are the grandparent of a very highly imaginative 3½ old.

Incidentally, just this week Don Andrew got on the phone and said, Hello Woody, this is Buzz. Grandpa, guess what. I got a big mosquito bite. To this I really don’t know how to reply. I could try to explain how sorry I am Don Andrew Buzz, that the Duke and Duchess had to take you away from the paradise of West, TX and take you to that terrible wasteland infested with trees, green grass, water, fish, golf and otherwise, beautiful scenery—and mosquitoes. But, I must admit, Don Andrew, We have mosquitoes, too, here in this West, TX paradise. So there! What else can a befuddled old laborer say?

DAZED AND EVEN MORE BEFUDDLED!

I don’t know about you but sometimes life presents itself with problems that are absolutely too perplexing to even contemplate. I mean, you go to bed and you know the world is okay and all, and you wake up and everything about your world has just turned over. This is really a problem I may need help with in the long run. I am glad I have a great psychology professor that could even help me if I get in too far over my head.

Let me try to explain my dilemma. Here I am, just a befuddled old laborer who is going through life having this most exciting chivalrous adventure and all of a sudden I wake up and I am Woody. I went to bed a knight’s squire, ready to go to the ends of the earth to protect and defend the honor of my knight. This befuddled old laborer, squire to Don Quixote de la Mancha, 21st century edition, is now much more befuddled than before. How can one go from being Sancho Panza to being Woody?

The answer to that question lies in the very creative mind of a 3½ old who can transform himself from being Don Quixote back to being Buzz Lightyear about as quickly as he changed from Buzz to Don Andrew. Wouldn’t it be great to be able to do that at this ancient age? But, you see, I can, because I can be anyone he wants me to be. That’s the magic of Grandpas and Grandsons and only they know that.

Of course, he did reveal some rather enlightening information to his mother, Doña Duchess. This befuddled old laborer was quite taken back with this bit of information. I can hear him now, Guess what Mommie, I am Buzz. Grandpa is Woody. You are Zurg. Daddy is the Prospector. Grandma is Jessie. Matthew is Bulls Eye. Jeff is Mr. Potato Head. Stephanie is Little Bo Peep. Bad buzz Light year is Kobe Gage. Sean is Rex and Summer is Barbie. It’s really enough to leave this befuddled old laborer bedazzled and confused.

Here is my issue. What will happen the next time we find a stick? What will we do when a tree needs attacking? How can Buzz and Woody possibly handle all that? My guess is that we will have to enter the World of Reciprocallity. It’s a dimension not even the dictionary has caught up with yet. Only Grandpas and Grandsons understand this World. Some might call it the World of Transition but they are a little less informed. I mean, this little guy is 3½. He understands all those things. How do you think he went from being Buzz to being Don Andrew and then back to being Buzz? Along the way he wanted to be Pirate Larry for Halloween but decided on some Prince Philip of Disney (with a sword, of course). Ah ha! Sounds to this befuddled old laborer that Don Andrew will return for many more adventures. What do you think?

Hello, Sancho Panza

Sometimes Don Andrew just skips the Grandpa (on the phone) anymore and goes straight to, Hello, Sancho Panza. He called sometime back to tell me about this very special rock he had found for me. He had to tell me every little detail.

When we arrived in East, TX (Somewhere in the vicinity of Lipan—wherever that is—and, don’t believe that Fort Worth is really Where the West Begins! That’s nearly as absurd as Abilene being the Key City of West Texas! Boy I got off—anyway, I think Lipan is even west of Fort Worth but East of Abilene, which is still not in West Texas.

After arriving in East, TX, we played around a little, ate, and otherwise enjoyed family fellowship together. I finally asked Don Andrew where this special rock he had for me was hiding. You guessed it! He had hidden it very close to some sticks. He ran out into the backyard. Now, in this backyard there are at least 1 kazillion rocks, some are quite beautiful I might add, as is the backyard.

You should have seen this little very special rock he had found for me. The only identifiable thing was that it was sort-of flat. Given a good tank (some folks say stock tanks while people up north of the Red River call them ponds; people down south call them pools. Can you imagine any on that? Anyway, I can’t wait to show Don Andrew how to skip rocks in a tank or lake someday.

Look, Grandpa, sticks! With one in each hand we were off on another adventure. There are many trees back there that must be attacked. This befuddled old laborer has yet to find Don Andrew a windmill. But, you just wait. Now that Don Andrew has seen that cartoon, he will end up having to fight one. He is extremely inventive and quite a brilliant little man. It’s easy to tell he took after his befuddled old sidekick.

We started this number with a phone call, didn’t we? Generally we talk for only a short time because he gets distracted by something else (something else he got from this befuddled old laborer), whereupon he will say, Do you want to talk to your daughter? I love you too Grandpa!

That’s the way he ends every message anymore. I can tell you it surely makes this befuddled old laborer a happy man to talk to Don Andrew.

LET'S DIG WORMIES!

One day, Don Andrew said, Let’s go dig wormies, Grandpa. We get a very special kick out of doing that together. He’s not quite like his mom Doña Duchess who used to take the worms out of the worm box and clean them off, stretch them out and put them back in the box to watch them descend into the peat, only to start all over with another worm. She did that while youngest son and I fished and older son was trying to figure out a way to fall in, wherever we were fishing. I really think old Chad liked to swim instead of fish. Brett would fish for hours. Doña Grandma Sanchette (to Don Andrew) would mostly endure the glorious moments of this family outing. She would really rather camp out at the Holiday Inn.

I was telling a story, wasn’t I? After Don Andrew asks to dig wormies, this befuddled old laborer Don Sancho, gets one of Don Andrew’s shovels. You see, grandsons get more than one shovel. His first was from Home Depot and was in this little plastic plaything kit that has the lawnmower, rake, and shovel. Did you ever try to dig West of the Pecos dirt with a plastic shovel?

So, we broke out the A shovel. Why is it an A shovel, you might ask? Well, logically it’s because this befuddled old laborer went back to Home Depot and bought Don Andrew a real shovel just big enough to fit him. A little white tape to make an A on it and you have an A Shovel. Of course, you understand that. When we recently traveled the long distance to East, TX, Don Andrew called this befuddled old laborer and said, Grandpa, bring my A shovel. We can dig wormies at my house.

I was telling you a story, so be sure to reread the first line and we will get back on track. That particular day this befuddled old laborer and Don Andrew took the A shovel and went out under the tree. I sunk the shovel in the ground and told him, Andrew, you can turn it over, dump it, and see if there are any wormies. To this he grabbed the shovel and propelled the dirt straight up into the air, whereupon it landed on our heads. He often does this. It is very funny to Don Andrew.

Guess what was next? Look Grandpa, there’s a stick. Once again we were off into the world of chivalry. He told me he really wants one of those fighter things (a sword). Well that’s better than a light saber. So, here we are off again, Don Quixote and his faithful sidekick Sancho Panza.

I remember my second time through World Lit, one of the things I learned was that all Sancho was for was to protect Don Quixote from himself. The third time through, I discovered real meaning. So, Don Andrew goes forth to slay whatever is in the way, whether a sage bush or a big tree. He is afraid of nothing. But, whatever happened to the wormies?

Be looking forward to even bigger and better adventures. I really don’t know how it could get any better unless it could involve all my grandkids. I hope it can one of these days really soon.